Today I awoke filled with grief
Jackie said she had finally resorted to one of the dog tranquilizers!

after a largely boycotted/rejected election
last night there were calls everywhere for ‘safe’ houses
the South African Embassy evicted 300 families who had been displaced from their rural homes
into the cold unforgiving streets of Harare
This morning we heard that the UN Security Council  ‘regretted’ the election
but were barred from calling it ‘illegal’ by the sole voice from South Africa

and as the politicians juggle with their own restrictions of ‘consensus’
Zimbabweans, who have done all the can to peacefully and democratically
to choose their freedom
are still, today, being beaten and displaced and killed

I am part of a vision
A vision that has been held by hundreds of Zimbabweans
as they have sat in healing circles over these last 5 years
a vision of groups held together by their own chosen agreements
of love/equality/trust/truth/non-judgment/diversity

I am part of a vision of peace
where we can exist in our diversity with dignity and respect

In these dark times
these things have become illuminated in ourselves
it is the darkness that has called us together
connections that we would never have made

I am part of vision
where others have shown such courage and love
that I am humbled and honoured to be a small lens

where women, young and old
under the banner of love
walk the streets calling for the rights of their children – to schooling and food

where doctors work day and night with battered and beaten bodies
and still have the courage and dedication to go on

where lawyers have struggled out of bed
to follow up thousands who have been arrested
and still walk with trust that there is a place for truth

I am part of a vision where people have put their lives at risk
to rescue others more vulnerable
moved by courage and love

I am part of a vision where people cross barriers and boundaries that held us apart
in a common search for the freedom

to be the most wonderful parts of ourselves

In a way I feel safe and much comfortable to support soccer than politics. But surprisingly soccer and politics are all games. There must be a game plan for the team to win, also there must be a game plan for the party to win.

However, supporters of either sides should feel safe and much more open to each other. It’s high time I think Zimbabwe should have that feeling for accommodating each other, just like soccer players moving from one club to another without being victimized. Playing for Dynamos this season and for Caps the next season. Supporters feeling the same freedom of choosing and discussing freely which team is doing well and worth supporting.

Politics also should have that freedom of accommodating players of different parties into the system to develop the nation. What is important at the end of the day is to have a vibrant nation. Otherwise the nation will remain a developing nation until kingdom come. A national team is composed of different players from different teams, all with different ways of attacking or solving a problem.

At the height of the violence in Kenya, it is reported that, the madams in the suburbs were upset that the maids were not turning up for work. On the BBC world service Outlook programme, there has just been a report about a till operator in Paris, with a degree in literature, who has published a book on how customers have become more and more rude to supermarket employees. This got me thinking about Zimbabwe. This topic may seem trivial and frivolous in the light of what we are going through but a society must be judged by its treatment of all of its citizens whether at a political rally, at an SPCA meeting, a parents assembly at school or in front of the tills.

The people who ring the sales in your favourite supermarket wake up at 4am because they live so far away from the area where they work. They then light a fire so that they can have a hot bath in a basin of sorts. After that, they have to wake up hungry children and get them to take a bath before heading for the kombi bus stop to wait an hour or so for transport. They have, at this stage, no idea what the transport fare is going to be and more often than not, they have to catch two sets of buses to get to work. When they get to work, they will be confronted by broken down visa machines through no fault of theirs or the supermarket. They are also already physically tired because they may or may have been invited for a political meeting the night before.

Who walks in at that moment? Madame Surburban Housewife, who rightly demands the best in service because she happens to travel to Cape Town on holiday and is therefore used to international standards in countries who inflation is a mere 10%, where the transport runs on time and the employees are paid a living wage. Madame suburban housewife, should perhaps pause to think about these poor souls and greet them first? Of course they are paid to greet customers with a smile, but at the rate things are going up how can a lowly paid till operator afford a smile when he cannot afford breakfast for his children and when he sees how much Madame Suburban Housewife is spending on olives for Sunday lunch?

Is it perhaps time to acknowledge that at times we take better care of our pets than we do fellow human beings – in terms of common decency towards employees who deserve a break from the pressures of their daily lives and the coal face at the check out counter? So next time you go to the supermarket, how about you greet the till operator warmly and with a smile, even if you are not paid to do it? “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Have a great day!

Zimbabweans, wherever you are,
whatever you are doing, or thinking of.
The only smart way of exercising your right
on the 27th June 2008, and in future
is your X, and not your Axe.

However, violence, can be stopped
In this beloved country Zimbabwe today
And in future if we all mark X with a pen
And not with an Axe.

An Axe is used for destruction, taking away
Life from our natural resources and humans.
A pen is used for nation building, making records
For future generations and future office bearers
Let’s all be wise, to use a pen to save lives.

An Axe doesn’t have records, hear me Zimbabweans
It only destructs nature, kills lives just like fire.
Wherever you go today, in prison, offices, schools,
Hotels, at a dip tank, even at a pre-school
You find a pen because it reflects peace and stability.

So, take the pen to stop violence, take the pen
To make records, take the pen to make history.

The history of Zimbabwe, was recorded with a pen!

Read/sing to the tune of Bob Marley’s ‘I shot the Sheriff’

I won the Presidency
But I didn’t say I beat the President, oh no oh!
I won the Presidency
But I didn’t say I beat the President ooh o-ooh o-ooh!

Yeah! all around in Zimbabwe,
They’re trying to track me down;
They say they want to bring me in guilty
For winning the Presidency,
For the office of the Presidency,
But I say:

Oh, no, no. oh!
(I won the Presidency.) – the Presidency.
(but I swear the people chose me.)
Oh, no! (ooh, ooh, oo-oh) yeah!
I say: I won the Presidency – oh, lord! -
(and they say it is a capital offence.)
Yeah! (ooh, ooh, oo-oh) yeah!

Chef Bob always hated me,
For what, I don’t know:
Every time I plant a seed,
He said kill it before it grow -
He said kill them before they grow.
And so:

Read it in the news one day:
(I won the Presidency) oh, lord!
(but I swear the people chose me.)
Who said I beat the President? (oo-oo-oh)
I say: I won the Presidency,
But I swear the people chose me (oo-oh) yeah!

Freedom came my way one day
And I started out of town, yeah!
All of a sudden, I saw Chef Bob
Trying to cheat me,
So I declared – I declared – I declared that I had won and I say:
If I am guilty I will pay!

(I won the Presidency,)
But I say (but I didn’t beat the President),
I didn’t beat no President (oh, no-oh), oh no!
(I won the Presidency.) I did!
But I didn’t beat no President. oh! (oo-oo-ooh)

Justice had got the better of me
And what is to be must be:
Every day the bucket a-go a well,
One day the bottom a-go drop out,
One day the bottom a-go drop out.
I say:

I – I – I – I won the Presidency.
Lord, I didn’t beat the President, yeah!
I – I (won the Presidency) -
But I didn’t beat no President, yeah! no, yeah!

* Tribute to Tendai Biti, Eric Matinenga and all political detainees in Zimbabwe. Adapted by Alex T. Magaisa – for the known and unknown victims of political repression in Zimbabwe – wamagaisa [at] yahoo [dot] co [dot] uk

Masi, Jamu and I
wave our hands to the President.
The windows of his limo
are tinted
and are always closed.
The motorcade travels fast
but Masi and Jamu say
the President waves back.

We wave our hands
every time the motorcade passes
in the hope it will stop
to drop a coin.

But we hear
the chauffeur does not know
the ‘Give-way’ sign
nor the ‘Stop’ sign.

~ Julius Chingono, Zimbabwean poet, 1996