The rainy season is upon us.  Zimbabwe is a country whose prosperity is dependent on this time, so everyone is focused on the rains.

For instance, our esteemed Minister of Agriculture advised farmers recently that in their preparation for planting, they must pay attention to, and use weather information from the Met-Department.  While on the face of it the Minister’s advice could be considered as stating the obvious, looking at the questionable productivity of our new-farmers, perhaps counsel is warranted.

In churches too, services and prayers for a good rainy season are being held.  Being quite religious myself, I’ve also decided to seek divine intervention for a good season of rain.

Once again, like we have done for many years,
We come before you kneeling, eyes filled with tears,
That in your merciful kindness you please help us out,
Without your intervention we’ll surely suffer more drought.

We implore you to send us seasonable rain,
Rainfall that will mark the passing of this dry period of pain,
A cloudburst which will sweep across our beloved land,
Washing away our withered past into the sand.

As it is now, the fields lie fallow, robbed of their life.
And amongst the people is despair; poverty is rife.
But a chance to start anew will your welcome showers bring,
A change much needed, giving greenness and hope to everything.

So with the rainy season upon us, we repeat our request,
And pray that you cleanse Zimbabwe of elements that cause hardship and unrest.
Quench this dry place; bring this era to an end.
Your precipitation is needed; abundant rains please send.

CHIWONISO at The Mannenberg: Modern Spirit, Ancient Soul
The Mannenberg, Fife Ave Mall / 6th Street, Harare /  Thursday 4 November 2010 at 9pm

Pictured above is Chiwoniso in Japan with Peter Solo (Togo) and Erick Wainaina (Cameroon)

So many times people sit at a bar, or family gatherings or even stand in supermarket aisles and complain. It’s almost as though complaining is the first thing we were taught at school.

We complain that it doesn’t rain, and when it does, we complain that it’s raining. We complain about the economy, we complain that there aren’t enough jobs. We complain about the banks, we complain about having to bribe the police. We complain about poor service from ZESA, ZINWA and City of Harare, and when we feel there isn’t anything left to complain about we complain about the government.

So much time and energy is put into articulating these complaints to anyone who will listen. It’s always someone else’s fault, never our own that we let things go so far in Zimbabwe. And we take it further, expecting someone, anyone to fix our problems. We have become so passive as a nation it’s no wonder that corrupt politicians and businessmen feel that they can get away with anything, who is going to stop them?

What would happen if all those complaints, those endless hours spent complaining about how terrible everything is were translated into action? What if instead of passive complaining we collectively did something about our complaints?

Mahatma Gandhi said ‘You must be the change you want to see in the world … In a gentle way you can shake the world.’ No one has to start a revolution in order to be a revolutionary. People like Wangari Maathai, Mother Theresa and Rosa Parks created change just by being – doing the little that they could. They were committed to their beliefs, and defended them when necessary, even though they didn’t have the loudest voices.

It doesn’t take very much to do the right thing every day. Every step taken, every word spoken and written, counts.

The language of fear once again echoes through our lives
new elections

the shadow of violence creates
once again,
separation in our midst
intimidation
young boys with large guns training on the streets
the threat is wherever we give it room to shake our trust

I sit on the rim of many circles
and watch in awe
as the edges connect

On a random morning in a Harare tea garden:
1 table of people talking about communication and the big picture
2 tables of healers talking about healing and coordination
1  table talking about healing and community self-help
1 table talking to the world (on email) about healing the environment

Circles of connection and action and focus
…………..born in the dark

And in different places, under different trees
communities edge beyond the fear
and talk about co operation and sharing of resources
talk about their young men and the damage we are doing to them
and of football games and peace

Small healing organizations talk about networking
small circles of widows,
and mothers of handicapped children
and AIDs carriers
and orphans
talk about healing and sharing what they have learned

Circles on an eastern mountain bring together traditional leaders and young thinkers
to talk about new ways of working together
calling on old traditions and new dreams
…………….born in the dark

I sit on the rim of many circles
circles that connect across communities and colour and culture and gender
circles that stretch across the country
across the planet
and I wonder:
Is there enough room for these webs of light to emerge
and bring something new into being?
has the long dry journey sucked and sapped our spirits?
do we have the resilience
and the trust
to walk this next part of our journey?

Transformation
The rains came this week and touched the long-dry earth with its magic
seeds of delicate grasses push tiny roots into newly wetted soil
and chongololos
lying in wait coiled in circular cells under dry earth
push their way to the surface
to greet the new-wet world
waiting above ground

The cell tower
Monavale community has taken the challenge of protecting its  biodiversity centre
from the invasive presence of a 50m cell tower being raised in its midst

The  story has many twists and turns
but an underlying message has there been from the start :
We are facing a bigger power than a group of concerned residents
Corporate business and the city council bent on ‘development’
pay no attention to our requests and petitions
-and building continued whilst the matter was in court

Our voice doesn’t count and we felt impotent in the face of the abuse of power around us

but then……….
a new twist
the judge ordered a temporary halt to the building
and brought the court to visit
our indigenous tree nursery
our bird sanctuary
our community clean-up and conservation and tree planting
and the cell tower outside our bedroom windows

once again we wait…..

The Southern African Young Women’s Festival ran between 25 and 28 October. Young women were brought together to share experiences, energise each other and celebrate their youth and the potential they have to advocate for social justice in their respective communities. The Festival was a platform to equip young women with the practical skills they need for effective advocacy for women’s rights and included many exciting activities including the launching of the 16 Days national campaigns of activism. The Festival was supported by OSISA.

Probably the most conspicuous element of the sex, sexuality and HIV/AIDS session held on the third-day session of the SAYWF was the energy and enthusiasm of the young-women, aged between 18 and 30 years. The discussions followed a talk-show format, where young women from all over Southern Africa uninhibitedly shared, celebrated and sang their experiences and insight, occasionally punctuating discussions with their pro-sister catchphrase “Sister, sister. …Sister!”

The freedom and openness of expression was exactly the result the organisers of the SAYWF wanted to achieve. The author, activist and moderator of this conversation, Luta Shaba pointed out that the spaces where young women can speak freely on issues of sex, sexuality and HIV/AIDS have become limited. These spaces either no longer exist or have become sanitised and usurped by other agendas. The space that SAYWF created for self-expression was fully appreciated by the sisters gathered together.

In general the discussions demonstrated that situations and challenges surrounding sex, sexuality and HIV/AIDS are more alike than dissimilar for young women in the region.

Societies still widely disapprove of premarital sex and the subject of sex itself is even considered taboo. Openly discussing sex in public is frowned upon whilst young women who engage in such talk are judged as badly behaved or promiscuous.

In addition, societies expect that young women’s knowledge of sex be about using the information to please the man in their life (or more precisely, their husbands). For young women who talk about sex in their work, it is difficult to find the appropriate language or terminology in the vernacular. It is tough to convey their messages without coming across as lewd. The discussion on why young women have sex showed that economic exchange is a common reason, whether as prostitution or simple survival. Anny Modi from the Democratic Republic of Congo explained that young women in the DRC are even willing to have unprotected sex with an HIV positive man, in order to earn more money, knowing full-well the man’s status.

Read more and listen to audio from the festival here

In his book, Keywords, Raymond Williams describes culture as “one of the two or three most complicated words in the English language”; yet I am going to have to rely on this word in my very short discussion, especially the second of the five definitions given in the Concise Oxford Dictionary (Ninth Edition): “the customs, civilization and achievements of a particular time or people”.  In my discussion I shall particularise the vague word “achievements”, first into the word “arts”, next into two names connected with the arts, both names currently in the news: Munyaradzi Chidzonga and Charles Mungoshi.

In my opinion, Charles Mungoshi is Zimbabwe’s greatest living writer.  This award-winning, internationally respected author of novels, poems, and short stories – in Shona as well as in English – is desperately ill, and almost destitute.  In cultural terms, he is one of Zimbabwe’s most precious jewels.  His voice, even in English, is quintessentially African, never pseudo-European.  He is our collective treasure.  And yet, the so-called guardians of our heritage, our culture – those in high government office – have done nothing, as far as I know, to assist Charles Mungoshi in his hour of need.

Along comes the handsome actor, Munyaradzi Chidzonga, who was outvoted in the finals of the peeping Tom television show, “Big Brother”; unfairly outvoted, according to some of our Government Ministers who watch the sordid programme on their plasma screens when they should be attending to potholes, and housing shortages, or reading Charles Mungoshi… along he comes, this born free son of the soil, trailing, not clouds of glory, but dreams of one day meeting His Excellency, the Head of State, First Secretary, Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces…er… where was I?  Oh yes, this darling of ZANU PF heavyweights, bringing Zimbabwean culture to the furtive voyeurs of the African continent… what does he get?- a reception at State House where His Excellency etc, etc, shakes his hand and proffers him a cheque for an obscene amount of money.  No wonder Munyaradzi was over the moon.

None of this really has anything to do with culture.  It’s all about political opportunism and, God help us, it works.