Salute to bravery, resilience and sacrifice United in song . . . Part of the members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association (ZNLWVA), members of the Zimbabwe Liberation War Collaborators Association (ZILWACO) and the Zimbabwe Ex-Political Prisoners Detainees and Restrictees Association members (ZIPEDRA) sing revolutionary songs at First Lady Amai Grace Mugabe’s Mazowe Children’s Home last week
United in song . . . Part of the members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association (ZNLWVA), members of the Zimbabwe Liberation War Collaborators Association (ZILWACO) and the Zimbabwe Ex-Political Prisoners Detainees and Restrictees Association members (ZIPEDRA) sing revolutionary songs at First Lady Amai Grace Mugabe’s Mazowe Children’s Home last week

United in song . . . Part of the members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association (ZNLWVA), members of the Zimbabwe Liberation War Collaborators Association (ZILWACO) and the Zimbabwe Ex-Political Prisoners Detainees and Restrictees Association members (ZIPEDRA) sing revolutionary songs at First Lady Amai Grace Mugabe’s Mazowe Children’s Home last week

Hildegarde The Arena
THERE is nothing new under the sun. Attending the First Lady Amai Grace Mugabe’s “Meet the People” tour on October 23, where she met with members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association (ZNLWVA), members of the Zimbabwe Liberation War Collaborators Association (ZILWACO) and the Zimbabwe Ex-Political Prisoners Detainees and Restrictees Association members (ZIPEDRA) at her Mazowe Children’s Home was one such incident.

It was refreshing: just to meet these thousands of men and women gathered at one place. Contrary to common belief, there are still many of them around. Refreshing also because these are the living heroes and heroines who fought the gruelling liberation war against the settler colonialists.

Thousands have since departed and many more are leaving us on a daily basis, but to see this collective body together was a moment to cherish.

However, despite the electric atmosphere that characterised the meeting, it was also a moment to introspect, a time to ask why thousands of these comrades, most of them now middle-aged and elderly did not represent the desired picture of a Zimbabwe they struggled and fought for. For they looked too ordinary, just like the parents they left when they went to Mozambique and Zambia.

Why did they also complain that they have so many unattended problems despite the existing structures and the War Veterans Act (Chapter 11:15) of 1992, whose goal is “to provide for the establishment of schemes for the provision of assistance to war veterans and their dependants; to provide for the establishment of a fund to finance for such assistance; to provide for the constitution and functions of the War Veterans Board . . .”

They might have been very happy to meet with the First Lady, but were the many questions, claims and counter-claims being made by some irate war veterans answered? They wanted to be afforded an opportunity to articulate the myriad of socio-economic challenges they are facing — a one-on-one with the First Lady. They wanted her to take those “personal” grievances to their patron, the President.

Some were in wheel chairs and others looked unwell, while others painted a picture of poverty, but the most amazing thing was that they still have hope that the Zimbabwe they fought for as zanla and zipra guerillas will bequeath them the recognition they deserve apart from badges of honour they wore.

They also want a better life for their dependants and to leave a legacy about the role they played during and after the liberation struggle. One of them quipped: “How can I be called ‘son of the soil’ when I don’t even have a job, house and a piece of land to farm?”

This desire was summed up in one of the Chimurenga songs they sang so passionately, a song also full of unanswered questions, and a song that poses questions to some of their fellow cadres on why there is now a wide gap in terms of wealth between the comrades that “have” and those that are struggling to eke a living. These are some of the lyrics of that song:

Ivhu rababa, munogovana sei? (How are you sharing our father’s land?)

Ivhu reZimbabwe, munogovana seiko? (How really are you sharing land in Zimbabwe?)

Nyika yeZimbabwe, munogovana sei? (How are you sharing land in Zimbabwe?

Kana iri ngoda, ndoidawo! (I also want a share of the diamond minerals!)

Kana riri goridhe, ndoridawo! (I also want a share of the gold resources!)

Kana riri ivhu, ndinoridawo! (I also want a share of the agricultural land!)

This protest song reveals the disparities that have been associated with the land reform programme and the indigenisation of Zimbabwe’s natural resources.

These people left the country, a majority of them at a very tender age and went to Mozambique and Zambia to join the liberation struggle. They fought and they won, but the questions they posed through song were not directed at outsiders. They were asking their fellow comrades-in-arms who are controlling the means of power why they have been left out when they were the people who sacrificed to ensure equitable distribution of Zimbabwe’s resources.

As this writer observed the day’s events, she realised that the Chimurenga songs from the days of the liberation struggle were not randomly picked.

When they sang about discipline and transparency in the struggle and in how issues should be handled, it was another reminder that there were some among them who had fallen by the wayside, maybe because their massive wealth and the senior positions they hold in both the public and private sectors meant that they were not accountable to anyone:

Kune nzira dzamasoja,
Dzokuzvibata nadzo.
Teererai mitemo yose
Yamunenge mapihwa.

They also reminded one another of the spirit of resilience in their quest to see a free, prosperous, peaceful and united Zimbabwe.

Then, they did not give up until final victory and last Thursday, those shots rang true again when they seemed to say that they will not give up until what they fought for is fully realised, not only by them and their families, but by the generality of Zimbabweans:

Mwoyo wangu, watsidza kufira Zimbabwe!

Kuzadzisa basa randakasiirwa.

Mumakomo, nomunzizi tichararamo!

Kudakara pfumo rangu ramutsa Zimbabwe.

Rufu rwangu, rwuchava rweZimbabwe!

Yuwi-i, yuwi-i vakoma vapera!

Yuwi-i, yuwi-i hama dzapera!

As pointed out above, they took us back and dared us, lest we forget, as some have done in the past 34 years. They did not fight the settler colonialists in order to become the new underdogs in the land they freed.

The present scenario was a self-fulfilling prophecy, which they were given while they were still fighting, that is the revolution will be hijacked by the bourgeoisies, intellectuals and the elites.

How will the national conscience be reoriented so that people who are busy fighting the future realise that it was shaped by the past — which included the men and women this writer met at Amai Mugabe’s Mazowe Home, although they were just a fraction of the whole revolutionary ethos.

They got that future when it was still non-existent?

What will be their epitaph and how will their time and the struggle they fought for be remembered, now and beyond? As some of the luminaries of the revolution Fidel Castro Ruz and Mao Zedong have said, respectively: “A revolution is not a bed of roses. A revolution is a struggle between the future and the past,” and, “A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another.”

You Might Also Like

Comments

Take our Survey

We value your opinion! Take a moment to complete our survey