Thursday 8 October is a day that I will remember this year with bitter memories. This is what happened on the night of October 8. I was coming from a neighbouring township with my mzukulu at a round 2015hrs, and as we were about to cross the street that joins the two townships, a speeding car suddenly stopped in front of us. An armed cop apparently dressed for peace keeping duty in Kosovo jumped off the back of the vehicle with the agility of a ninja. He approached gun in hand, and boy was I stunned.

“Get in the car now!” he barked without giving us a second to understand what was happening. I obviously tried to protest, and the enraged cop further barked: “You are the people who go about raping women and killing them.” I thought, this is becoming surreal. Maybe I’m dreaming. Is this the Zimbabwe we want? There is GNU for Gods’ sake and should we be subjected to this treatment, I mused in the privacy of my thoughts – and under the cover of the dark night that managed to camouflage my obvious rage.

We were then shoved at the back of the truck where about twenty bitter men sat huddled like those miserable illegal immigrants trying to sail through the Straits of Gibraltar. “I was picked up when I was coming from church. Look, here is my Bible.” “I was picked up right in front of my house.” “I was picked up when I was giving way to the police car.” Their grumbling went on and on, and one female cop who proved to have been particularly miffed by something that some guessed had nothing to do with carrying out her duties went into action.

She liberally lashed her sjambok above our heads in the dark and I saw grown men wince in pain. “You think because I am a woman I cannot use this sjambok on you?” she snarled. Soon we were at the Nkulumane Police Station. I told myself, we are leaving this wretched place soon as we explain we were on our way home as law abiding citizens, but then I was to learn later rather painfully that you cannot reason with an unreasonable man – or worse yet cop. Soon, were told to line up. As we were led to the holding cells, the baton stick was again recalled and each of us got pretty violent and very painful lashes on our buttocks. I actually asked one stupefied cop to add more as he had no clue what the hell he was doing and for what reason.

These cops did not bother to tell us why our rights were being violated like that. Then we were told that anyone who did not want to spend the night in the filthy cells must pay USD5! For what? Are we living in a police state and not aware of it? Wrong question! As we were pushed into the cells, a visibly – and understandably bitter guy said: “I am not paying for a crime I did not commit you can bet on that.” Then the cop said something I still recall today and wonder what the hell he was talking about: “So you think you are the Prime Minister? You will rot in there if you think we are here to play.” He spoke in Shona and appeared aggrieved by something which only some seer and someone blessed with ESP could have deciphered. I wondered like everybody else where the Prime Minister fit in here and in what context. But then it has been said the GNU has many enemies! The cop just let the sentence hang and it was up to the crowd to fill in the gaps. Spend the night in the cells we did, 20 of us.

I wondered about my two young boys back home. They were obviously waiting for their dad to tuck them in, but they were to spend the night with their young minds wondering where the old man was. Talk about feeling like an absentee dad! In the morning, we were asked if we had the money to pay a fine. Again back at the “charge office” we were subjected to more ridicule. So we were being offered our freedom, but we had to tell the cops what we had been arrested for. “You tell us, isn’t you are the one who arrested us,” I said to the cop who sat on a high bar seat literally feeling high and mighty.

“If you do not know why you were arrested then we are returning you to the cells so you can wait for the cops who arrested you to tell you why you were arrested. Or even if you still insist you did not do anything, we throw back in the cells so you can go to court and plead your case.” I instantly hated the guy. He was enjoying it, and in his own warped mind he was doing us a great favour by offering us an option to pay a fine. I wondered: is this the Zimbabwe the GNU is promising us? It certainly isn’t the Zimbabwe we want. “So you think you are the Prime Minister” those words kept ringing in my angry mind. “We cannot just accept your fine when you do not know what you are paying for,” the cop reasoned. To a cut a long story short as I was increasingly being infuriated by someone, others in the cells had already called a “Border Gezi graduate,” I said fine we were arrested for public drinking. That seemed to rile the cop.

“We are not playing here. We will throw you back in the cells until you tell us why you were arrested.” “Okay,” I said. “We were crossing the street about a hundred metres from here (meaning the police station) when we were picked up and thrown into the cells.” “Okay then. You were arrested for loitering.” Boy was I stunned! Then my nephew asked what I still think was a clincher. “So there is a curfew then?” “Huh?” the cop was baffled. What the heck is he talking about? I saw it written on the bamboozled cops face. “So there is a curfew then,” my nephew repeated. “Huh?” Turns out he did not know what a curfew is! “Asivanhu havatshavumidzwa ukuhamba ebusuku?” the young lad asked, lacing his broken Shona with Ndebele. It was only then that the cop responded, but only to expose the nature of the intellectual aptitude of these people tasked with protecting law abiding citizens. Another guy on the other side of the counter asked: “So the curfew is that no one moves around after 9PM?” “Even 8PM,” the cop replied. And we all burst out laughing despite our circumstances. So as you may imagine, we parted with USD10 and for what? I still do not know. But I did tell the cops who rained that sjambok on my buttocks: “God bless you.”

Even as I write this I have difficulty sitting as my backside is still painful. It also got me thinking about something: when you are assaulted or mugged, doctors always ask for a police report before they treat you. Now, I was sjamboked by cops, who do I get the police report from for me to get treatment? Great country ain’t it? But then this is not Europe or the States where you can sue these cops and expect to be awarded damages. After all, these are the same chaps who over the years have literally got away with murder. For me the least I can do is tell the world about it. Perhaps we are living a lie under this GNU animal. These are times we are living in when so many of us had imagined police brutality was confined to the pre-GNU years. Two weeks later I read in the Chronicle newspaper (Wednesday 14 October 2009 p.2) that the country’s Number One Cop Augustine Chihuri had urged promoted officers in the Midlands province to respect human rights. I laughed bitterly.

The trouble with trying to be clever is that you run the risk of idiocy. This maybe complete nonsense, or it could be a good blog. Let me know.

A very long time ago, before I was born anyway, Bob Marley came to Zimbabwe and sang ‘Get up stand up’ in front of thousands of Zimbabweans. Locks bouncing, his backing band doing their very best to keep up with his energy, Mr. Marley gave our country a soundtrack. The atmosphere was electric. Anything was possible. We had gone from telling all the mothers ‘No Woman No Cry’ to ‘Stirring it Up’ in the ‘Uprising’. But the ‘Buffalo Soldiers’ had returned and this was a new beginning. This, after-all, was the new Zimbabwe. For a few hours that night, there was no black, no white, no man, no woman, no child, just Zimbabweans. For a little while that night, and even after that, we were all one, united in singing ‘Songs of Freedom’.

Independence came, and went, but we were ‘Jammin’ together. Our President was hailed as a one of the great African Statesmen, a ‘Legend’. Zimbabwe couldn’t be prouder. Some of us had settled into a wonderful way of life. The ‘Sun is Shining’ we thought, as we happily braaied and drank Castles. Then the cracks began to show. All of a sudden the people started murmuring that we needed to ‘Stir it Up’ once again. The ‘Exodus’ of the best and brightest began in earnest, the word ‘Survival’ on their lips.

They left; the skilled, and the unskilled. Going to ‘Babylon by Bus’. And we who remained ‘Caught a Fire’ and became ‘Soul Rebels’. They resisted the lies, the bribery and finally the violence, quietly. ‘Time Will Tell’ we said. Those who dared rise up, ended up in the ‘Jailhouse’, while more and more people began to hum the notes to ‘Trenchtown Rock’. Abroad, the Diaspora yearned to know the ‘Real Situation’ and often they were told it was ‘War’.

‘So Much Trouble in our World’, quasi-fiscal became another word for instant impoverishment. Zimbabwe was weary, and hopeless, until the Global Political Agreement was signed. Until then we thought we had been ‘Waiting in Vain’, but, our ‘Redemption Song’ seemed to have been written at last.

Bob Marley died in 1981, a few months after we celebrated the first anniversary of Zimbabwe’s Independence. His music still lives, as do the people of Zimbabwe.

When I was offered the opportunity to work on Inzwa I was excited. I believe that using mobile technology to disseminate information, civic or otherwise is ingenious. With its high usage among people in general, the mobile phone is the easiest and cheapest way to reach any target audience. More than that it meant that I could go out and do what I enjoy: listening to people talk about what’s important to them.

I learnt a lot interviewing the various activists for Everyday Heroes. My favourite interview was with Eleanor Alfred, from whom I learnt that you don’t have to have done anything extraordinary to be extraordinary in yourself. I think she set the bar as far as interviewees go, and while I did enjoy the ones that followed she helped to change my perception of the world. Many of my interviewees helped to dispel my misconceptions about government and the way in which it, and civic organizations, work. One of these was George Makoni. He showed me that politicians are not just found in politics, but everywhere. While he raised the question of activists for hire, it occurred to me during my interview with him that, like those he criticized, he wasn’t doing his work for the Youth Forum because he believed in the cause, or the values of the organization. It was more because he hoped someday to be in the same position as the politicians that are currently in government.

There were two interviews that gave me insight into who I am. The first was Tsitsi Dangarembga. I’ve been a fan of hers since I picked up Nervous Conditions and couldn’t put it down until the last page, ten years ago. She creates with such relative ease, something that I labour to do, that I find myself awed by her. I also enjoyed that she was honest in her appraisal of her self as a woman with many roles. I wouldn’t call Charity Maruta unorthodox, but she has a way of looking at the relationships in her life, and life in general, that I found refreshing. My insight was that neither of these women’s view of themselves was coloured by what was expected of them by anyone. Since I’m trying to get there myself, I think it very admirable.

I don’t think there were very many challenges associated with gathering content for Inzwa. Although at first, it was hard to wrap my mind around packaging detailed news items into sixty seconds. In doing the interviews for Everyday Heroes, getting change from the whindi on a combi was the biggest and most frustrating issue.

From helping out with the survey, I think Inzwa will face a challenge in being accessible to people. The most frequent criticism of the project was the money spent in listening to the programmes. I’m not certain if there was a target audience for this pilot, but in future it will have to be defined. From that, issues of giving free access or paid access can then be addressed. Further to that, if Inzwa were a paid access service, then it could be made to be self-sustaining.

I really hope Inzwa out lives these three experimental months. Unlike any form of media that is currently available to the public, it provides an alternative source of unbiased information, which is becoming increasingly important to people. From the very beginning I expected that Inzwa would take a lot of time and energy. I will admit to having underestimated exactly how much energy was required. As time went on, I found that I had to suspend my other projects so I could dedicate more energy towards it. I feel that it was time well spent.

Somebody said to me “clever girl you are paid to teach yourself” and I was too modest at that time to say yes. So today I would like to actually agree because that’s the plain truth. I went out there interviewing artists asking those questions that I had no answers to myself and some that I did. I was really trying to find out what the people in my industry think and what their intentions are concerning the industry I so love. I educated myself all right. I learnt so much that I would otherwise not have learnt in the music industry. The arts industry in Zimbabwe right now does not teach half of what I have learnt at Kubatana. This experience has not only changed me as an artist but as a person as well. I am not the same person I was three months ago I can tell you that much. This person also said “so you are now a double agent” meaning I was now on the other side of the mic not being interviewed, but actually doing the interviewing. Yes I have had the chance to live double lives thanks to Kubatana. As a result of these three months it’s up up and away for me. I have realised there is much in life that can be done and that this is not the end of the road for me but the beginning of a journey. Who could have thought that I would have the guts to write my mind on paper and be content with it being read by anybody, anywhere? One thing that amazes me about these three months is that I have just developed this sponge attitude, to absorb and learn so much from the interviews I did, the office work and the day-to-day happenings around me. I have grown to appreciate the little bit of information I get and wonder how it affects me and what part I need to play to change things or to enhance a situation. By the way this is not a goodbye note but a hello note to a completely different me. So hello everybody!

The Mass Public Opinion Institute conducted round 4 of the Afrobarometer survey in Zimbabwe in May 2009. The purpose of the survey is to compare public opinion about various economic civic and social issues across African countries.

The survey was supposed to have been undertaken in 2008, but the political instability prevalent in the country at the time made this impossible. Further, the sample size is based on 2002 Census figures, which are projected to 2008 figures with consideration being given to issues such as mass migration and displacement.

Despite many criticisms at its formation the majority of respondents expressed a belief that the Inclusive Government was the best way forward. Added to that 57% of respondents said that they would vote for MDC–T in the next election, as compared to 10% for ZANU PF. The popularity of the MDC is also mirrored in the high approval rating for Morgan Tsvangirai and his work in the Inclusive Government. Interestingly, Mr. Tsvangirai’s job performance is viewed positively by members of both parties.

It may be inferred that hope was restored to the public because 71% of respondents expressed satisfaction with the way government was managing the economy. Despite this, day to day issues were also seen in the survey, with the majority of respondents ranking management of the economy as the most important problem facing the country. Second to this were the issues of unemployment and education. Interestingly, a majority of respondents expressed greater satisfaction with the current state of the economy as compared with other years including 2004, 2005 and most notably 1999.

Issues of contention which arose during the survey presentation included the survey sample being based on 2002 census data; the fact that more respondents expressed greater satisfaction with the economy in 2009 as compared to 1999 and what the terms ‘economic policies’ and ‘economic management’ meant to the respondents.

What is most evident from the survey is that the formation of the inclusive government has restored hope in people. While many acknowledge the challenges in their own lives, they are optimistic that the country’s fortunes are on their way up.

Only time will tell if this hope is well founded.

I am sorry if you will think that is vulgar, but I believe it has to be said, especially for all those young women falling prey to the idea that ‘turning a man on’ means that they love them.

Recently, a young lady, just about 19 years of age, approached me to talk about a messy situation that had befallen her. As she sobbed through the story, she told me about a man, 12 years older than her, who had wooed her for a few months and told her that he was desperately in love with her.

When she finally gave in to his sexual requests (because apparently, the guy kept telling her that his spontaneous erections meant that he was seriously in love with her), the relationship suddenly came to an abrupt end.

She says this man just stopped calling her and told her he had lost interest.

Sadly enough, this girl claims that this was the first man she had ever slept with.

Now, I can’t be 100% sure that her side of the story is the whole truth as other factors may have led to the ending of the relationship, but I must say that it is not the first time I have heard of women who confuse male sexual arousal and responses with love.

Those in the know say that an erection occurs when the nervous system activates a rapid increase in blood flow to the penis, thereby making it hard and ready for penetrative sex.

But almost any stimulus can cause these, whether a man is in love with a woman, just physically attracted to.

And that’s not to say that all men fall into this general category. Some genuinely combine physical attraction and emotional affection to their responses to their partners. And that would be the best kind of combination in a healthy relationship.

I am no expert but the best advice I gave to the young lady was to be sure next time that the man she was with was with her for genuine love.

If he won’t wait for you to be ready, or respect your decision to abstain, then he is not worth your time, or the tears you will cry in retrospect.

In this world where physical attributes – such as money, good looks, status and yes, erections – are equated to love, it is important to dig deeper beyond those to see what lies within the heart of the one who claims to love you.