I cannot help but notice, in great wonder and sometimes exasperation, how some politicians, who are now well past their sell by dates, now spit out the phrase ‘regime change agenda’ with all the  innuendos and insinuations that it is either treacherous or outright treasonous for a Zimbabwean to even think of regime change.

Recently, when confronted with a quite innocuous question from a journalist, the Head of State and Government, and Commander in Chief of the Defence Forces, His Excellency, cde Robert Gabriel Mugabe angrily cut him off, “now you are asking a regime change agenda,” he snapped.

The basic idea underpinning the concept of democracy is that ordinary Zimbabwean citizens have a fundamental right and should be entitled to freely decide who should govern them. In other words, the right to change a regime if they so wish. The process of translating that choice to reality is accomplished by way of voting, which is often done periodically, to enable ordinary people to make a clear statement about their leaders.

Another tenet of democracy, consistent with the first above, is that potential leaders must be able to, through various – peaceful means, present themselves, and their ideas through manifestos to the people – marketing themselves as the best leaders to govern and make policy decisions for the country. In this noble battle of ideas, whoever has the better idea should, ordinarily, following a vote to confirm them, be the new leaders of a new regime taking the country in a new, and hopefully better direction. The primary purpose of an election is to change or renew leadership. Even in situations where the incumbent is retained, the process of an election would have offered the public an opportunity to reaffirm his leadership.

This vital process, which I will, with Fungai Machirori’s recent, brilliant blog in mind, refer to as the nation’s shedding off of its old skin of failed policies and broken promises to reveal a new skin of hope and expectation, has been suppressed in Zimbabwe for the past 3 decades. Leaders are in denial – attempting to do the impossible – to defy nature. They vainly attempt to banish all evidence of the passage of time, tucking away strands of white hair and sagging skin, tragically locking the nation in a time warp. Imagine the snake clinging to its old skin, refusing to shed it off and make way for newness, for rebirth and revival?

For these leaders, elections are but a mere formality, their objective must never be to deliver regime change, but to endorse the status quo. Since elections are not really meant to deliver regime change, then it follows that it is not necessary to ensure free space for the contestation of ideas and free space for leaders of different political formations to market their vision for the country. The very concept of democracy would become, as a colleague is fond of saying, anathema to defenders of the indefensible status quo.

To ensure that the ideals of genuine democracy are defeated various instruments are deployed by incumbent regime. When the risk of losing power is deemed low, then the regime would simply fiddle with figures, rig here and there and ensure and outcome that restores prevailing balance of power. For good measure associates of the regime are deployed to oversee the counting of votes. For this reason, in African politics the counting of votes is much more important than the actual voting itself.

The bottom line for all these shenanigans being that power must be retained at any cost. While alternative democratic voices are denied space in national media to articulate their views, the incumbent regime is granted full coverage to propagate its ideas, which, often enough, it does not do but devotes its attention squarely to denigrate, demonise and abuse those advancing alternative views.

Where the risk of losing power is deemed greater, then there is no hesitation to deploy the threat of violence and violence in an attempt to alter the workings of democracy in the incumbent regime’s favour. On June 27, 2008, the day of the ill-fated one-man presidential runoff election, I offered a lift to a ‘war veteran’ who gave me an insight into this thinking. Quite unbidden, he commented on the election process,

“Holding elections is utter madness, how can people think that, by merely putting an ‘x’ on a piece of paper they can remove a president from power? How can a pen and paper have such an effect? We (presumably talking on behalf of so-called ‘war veterans’) will not allow people, just with the index finger (the one dipped in indelible ink as an indication that one has voted), to effect regime change. If that happens we will take our guns and go back to the bush.”

I believe the ‘war veteran’ gave and accurate diagnosis of the disease plaguing Zimbabwe – that the incumbent regime does not respect the concept of democracy and its corollary of regime change. After realising that indeed the wish of the people, as reflected in the March 29, 2008 elections, was for the country to renew its leadership and try fresh ideas, patrons and benefactors of the old regime quickly moved stop any peaceful transfer of power. Instruments of coercion were quickly activated to crush any dissent and ensure that the status quo is maintained at all costs.

The present arrangement, which primarily retained the status quo, albeit with a modicum of space at the high table for the true victors in the elections, derives its authority, not from tenets of democracy, but from undemocratic negotiations that the main political parties entered into in order to deal with a crisis triggered by a refusal to peaceful transfer power in accordance with democratic principles.

Although this arrangement dealt a severe blow to the development of our embryonic democracy, it by no means crushed the ideals of this enduring ideology. Even within ZANU-PF the institution, there is now a realisation that chickens of authoritarianism are now coming home to roost. Media reports indicate that elections in both ZANU-PF’s youth and women’s leagues were characterised by chaos and violence. Quite ironically, reports indicate that Mugabe pleaded with the youth league to respect election results and appealed to losers to magnanimously accept defeat in polls!

The creature called power-sharing government is only transitional; it can never replace the concept of true democracy and the right of every Zimbabwean to fully participate in the election of leaders of their choice. This fundamental right to regime change is recognised in article 13 of the African Charter of Human and Peoples’ Rights and in the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights whose article 21 provides that Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives, and more importantly, further that, the will of the people (as expressed in periodic, genuine elections) shall be the basis of the authority of government.

Relentless propaganda against regime change seeks to create the false impression that it is wrong to seek regime change, or to seek leadership renewal. It is not. It is a natural process that cannot be stalled indefinitely. It is a reality that, though it is temporarily denied, will surely come to pass.

Despite the hype about the liberation struggle and all, ZANU-PF came to power through the ballot box. In 1980 people were free to make a democratic choice. Likewise, Zimbabweans today should have the freedom to choose whosoever they wish as their leader. The right to regime change is a fundamental right that must be respected and be cherished by all.

Temporary setbacks and spanners being thrown in the works by elements resisting change cannot be reason enough to lose faith in the enduring power of the idea of democracy. Rather, it these challenges should spur activists on and strengthen their resolve to ensure that they exercise their right to vote, defend their vote, and ensure that the vote is counted and counts.

I positively detest snakes. To me, they are slithery, slimy and plain creepy creatures.

But right now, as I write, they are the only things that I can think of.

No, I do not want to dwell on their flashing forked tongues or hissing venom – that could give me nightmares for the rest of this week! Instead, I would like you to consider one of their most interesting attributes:

The fact that they periodically shed their skin.

According to the experts, this activity takes place due to hormonal responses and is associated with growth. And usually, snakes shed their skin 4-8 times per year.

In case you didn’t know, we humans also shed a load of skin. But unlike our reptilian friends, ours doesn’t come off in the perfectly intact shape and form of our old selves.

Maybe if it did, we would look with more awe and amazement at our ability to grow out of what we once were, and into the new beings that we continually change into.

This explains my current fascination with snakes – the fact that they leave their old confinements to grow into something bigger and better (and of course, scarier!).

And also, the fact they can keep a reminder of that activity, which is the cocoon shape that trails them as they undergo the process of renewal.

I am in that same process of renewal, shedding away who I once was to become bigger and better. And when I look back in my mind at who I once was, at what that cocoon shape I am leaving behind looks like, I see all the errors, trials, tribulations and sorrows that I do not want to experience as I grow into a new wiser version of myself.

As I shed the old and grow into the new, I am excited and scared alike.

Will I fit into my new skin? Will it wear and tear and cause me to bleed? Will I want to run back and fit snuggly into what I once was?

I do not know the answers, but I know that growth into self-awareness and enlightenment is well worth the effort.

Instead of growing a thick callous uncaring layer, why not shed that and open yourself to growth and revival?

It has often been said that the greatest battles are fought in the mind. This is certainly true in the case of Zimbabwe, particularly in our tortured struggle for democracy, good governance and human rights. If the struggle is approached with a mind already defeated and not open to possibilities, as is often the case, then there is small wonder how a very small group of predominantly old and frail men can subjugate millions of people for decades without as much as a whimper from the long-suffering masses.

Much like a bird caged and kept in captivity for most of its life, even when the cage is removed, the bird refuses to fly away, because, in its mind, the cage remains, making the physical absence of a cage irrelevant.

The Zimbabwean education system further compounds the crisis of a defeated mindset by lacking the ability to produce people who are critical and analytical, but perfect academics who regurgitate what they are fed by the teacher who is supposed to know all, but remain blinkered to the world around them. I will explain, lest one take offence at what, at first, may seem a reckless statement.

Our education system and socialisation has broken our collective spine, and prepared us to be meek subjects who shall obey authority without question and not empowered citizens with rights and ability to challenge authority. The MDC in government should seriously consider putting forward a proposal to inject civic education and critical thinking into our educations system from primary school level.

Back in the days as a student activist at the University of Zimbabwe I was often exposed to this attitude that to question authority is sheer madness, foolishness or utter stupidity. Whenever I pointed out the shortcomings of the then ZANU-PF government, often I would be dismissed with the following words: Ndivo vafana veku univhesiti vanoitira weti mumafiriji, havatendi hurumende inovapinza chikoro, musavatevedzere (These are the university boys who urinate in fridges, they are an ungrateful lot, do not listen to them) – this was in apparent reference to a students demonstration at the university of Zimbabwe where some students had, according to the State run Herald newspaper, overturned fridges at the institution and urinated in them in protest against poor catering services there.

To be fairly critical of authority’s misdeeds is to label oneself a pariah. Everyone must conform to the norm. Do not put your head above the parapet, or it will be chopped off, or so the advice goes. To many in Zimbabwe, decency is about being careful not to rock the boat, not to ruffle feathers, but to avoid any confrontation and get through life quietly, meekly.

The late iconic Zimbabwean singer Leornard Dembo, perfectly captured this mindset in one of his songs entitled Manager, where he admonishes those who confront the manager at work because they forget they have families to feed. A relative of mine also reflected this mindset during my days at the university when she advised me thus: “Don’t you forget your background. Your parents struggled in abject poverty to send you to school, and you have seven siblings – don’t you start trouble at university. The moment other students start demonstrating, take the first bus out of campus and come home and lie low until it’s over.” It is advice I gladly ignored, but which, I am sure, was not uncommon.

This mindset focuses on short term gains of being safe in the crowd but, sadly, compromises on the bigger picture. It normalises the abnormal and celebrates fear and mediocrity. The few people who keep trashing our rights can do so with impunity because the majority have accepted as normal that which is obscene. Joseph Chinotimba can boast, with all the audacity, that he “farms people” and no-one bats an eyelid. Muchadeyi Masunda, Harare Mayor on a Movement of Democratic Change ticket can use government resources, in such difficult times, to buy himself a US$152 000 luxury vehicle – and that is normal! To make matters worse, there are people within the purportedly progressive democracy movement who will be upset when the issue is raised. Why? Because leaders should not be questioned, they are always right! Or some such load of rubbish.

But what I find most astounding about this mindset that has crippled Zimbabwe’s democracy and human rights movement is the quite illogical expectation that someone must fight on their behalf to bring about change. In beer halls, in churches, in schools, at work, Zimbabweans analyse, they know exactly what is wrong with governance, they are fully aware of the root causes of our multilayered crisis. But that is as far as it goes. A learned colleague has found a term for this phenomenon: paralysis of analysis. They do not want to take action themselves, at an individual level. But moan that not enough is being done to liberate Zimbabwe! Of what use is your thorough and superior understanding of the crisis if you are not prepared to act on it?

Sometimes I come to the conclusion that we get the leaders and type of governance we deserve. Do we honestly believe that ZANU-PF, so comfortable in the seat of power, will voluntarily give up power? Or that democracy and fundamental rights will be presented to us on a silver platter? To entertain such hopes is to dream in broad daylight. We must say, “Enough is Enough,” and then, at an individual level, commit to playing each his or her part to liberate the country. I will borrow this statement from the English and say, “Zimbabwe expects each man to do his duty.” Be the change that you want to see in Zimbabwe. The mantra should be, “None but ourselves!” If not yourself, then who should act on your behalf while you remain in your comfort zone?

For democracy, good governance and a culture of respect for human rights to thrive it does not just happen. There must be a critical mass of people prepared to advance and defend these ideals at all costs. The collective mindset must accept that it is right, a sacred duty even, for one to defend principles and ideals of democracy and to openly declare that position without having to look over the shoulder. The collective mindset should focus on the greater goal of justice and freedom for all ahead of short-term personal security which, in any case, cannot be guaranteed even if one thinks that the safest way out is to collaborate with the oppressor.

Unless there is a radical transformation of the mind, individually and collectively, which leads to action from within Zimbabwe, then victory for democracy and human rights will be postponed indefinitely. Even if new leaders or new political formations come on board, without a change of mindset, which catapults us from meek subjects to bold citizens with rights and who know and stand up for their rights, the result will be the same. That is, a few people in power will continue to trample on the dreams   and rights of the majority and get away with it.

Already Muchadeyi Masunda, the rogue Harare Mayor, has shown that his MDC jacket does not stop him from taking people for granted, but, is it not with the implicit consent of Harare residents?

As you reflect on our individual role and contribution, to either aiding or resolving the crisis in Zimbabwe, ask yourself: Am I a subject or a citizen? What action will I take as my personal contribution to the development of a new Zimbabwe?

Just when you think you have got something, it goes away. I tell you I thought I had it but that was not so. I could almost see the ten thousand strong crowds at various venues around Europe cheering for more. When I first auditioned for the Daughters of Africa European tour, that was my hope and dream. Forgive me but that is like the dream of every performer in the world – to be applauded for something that comes so natural to you but that is so hard to sustain and maintain. Maybe that was my problem; that I forgot that it’s a full time job to always be calm as a performer. So when I made the next stage of the auditions, the top 10 in fact, I was sure this one was coming to me. My turn came and boy did I shake like I hadn’t ever sung in my life before. I was very aware of this feeling but I tried so hard to impress the judge that I did not take the time to persuade myself to calm down. And to tell myself hey you, you have sung before . . . Yes not in front of a big shot arts promoter, but you have sung before. But I guess if it’s not yet time things don’t always go the way you want. So as I write this I don’t write with a heart full of pain but full of lessons learnt; one of them being always come prepared to feel that one person in front of you might feel like ten thousand, and also be prepared and aware of the nerves running through your body.

rustle of dry wind in dry grass,
sucking moisture from every pore
heating the earth to a dry crust

it is the beginning of the hot dry season
the time of flowering
of insects awakening
and bees collecting
and a bird sipping nectar held in a scarlet petal

. . . no rain for 2 months still

what trust is it then
the masasas lend to the future
flushing in heart-stopping gold,
painting crimson,
grey-granite-kopjes
what source of water
invisible beneath the earth
do their searching roots touch
to feed these new shining leaves

overhead the skies are broken by fighter planes
demonstrating the power of dictators
to the crowds at the agricultural show
- where the farmers are absent
- and the farms are abandoned
and the empty words of politicians hang heavy in the air

out there,
today,
on some granite kopje
a group of councillors from both parties
share their stories of hurt and shame
walking the path where light and shadow meet
interchange
interact
interconnect

today
out there on some granite kopje
courageous people explore the possibility
of a new way of being
of seeing
of hope

of trusting the future
and sending roots down in search
of invisible deep water

walking the dry earth
trusting the journey

There’s something that makes many people who don’t know me think that I am not a Zimbo upon first meeting me.

No, it’s not the Bohemian dressing and my propensity to mix colours that should otherwise never be assembled together within one outfit (although some say that that is why they think I am Jamaican/ Kenyan/ Brazilian etc.).

It is actually more about my jelly belly and all those other spongy bits on my body.

“Hawu sisi, but you can’t be a Zimbabwean,” a South African woman once argued as we rummaged through clothes in a boutique in Polokwane together. A few minutes before, she had tried to engage me in a conversation in Xhosa and I had politely informed her that I didn’t understand what she was saying.

And so she asked, “Are you Kenyan?”

“No,” I said.

“Mozambican, Malawian, American, Jamaican?”

“Zimbabwean,” I finally said to stop her from reciting all the nations on the global map.

But she didn’t believe me.

With a look at me from my head through my middle and then straight down to my toes, she concluded, “You are too healthy to be Zimbabwean.”

This was at the peak of the cholera epidemic when it seemed that the whole Zimbabwean population would be wiped out by the scourge.

And what she meant was that I was too fleshy, too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to be coming from a collapsing country.

She is not the only one who has said this to me.

It seems everywhere I go, people have a perception that Zimbabwe is just a sorry pit in the ground infested with starvation and disease.

And why wouldn’t they? Any international news about us is all doom and gloom, horrifying statistics and depressing facts – no images of smiling healthy people.

So when you are the only Zimbabwean a person has had the opportunity to meet, the shock that yes, you do wear clean clothes, look well-fed and articulate – is all too much for them to bear. You should actually be half-way to dead and completely dejected.

Now that CNN, BBC and all the other foreign media stations have been allowed back into Zimbabwe, I truly hope that they will begin to beam messages of hope and happiness about this dear nation once more. One of my favourite sayings states that in the world, there is great suffering; but also great overcoming of it. That saying could have been written for the plight of Zimbabwe and its people.