Under the shadow
Every effort is being directed at putting out the light . . .
MDC have been banned by the ‘ruling party’ from campaigning on local TV
People have been told to take down their satellites as they are picking up ‘outside’ news reports
wind up radios have been declared a tool of opposition
NGO’s have been banned
recharge cards are unavailable for many cell phone networks – no ‘juice’
many land lines are down – cables stolen
Biti is still in jail
militia camps have been set up in all high density and many low density suburbs in Harare
Zanu youth roam the streets at night
forcing people to all night rallies
to join the ranks of the destruction
E’s old father left his rural home last week
threatened by Zanu youths for voting wrongly
last night he had to return
called back by the invaders to face them
‘or we will burn the whole village’
an old man held to ransom
showing such courage
his fate is still unknown
it is a dark curtain that has been pulled over the land
and yet . . .
the light still shines
in small bubbles
in the back yard of a mechanic’s garden
where they celebrate work completed on his minivan
by sitting in the back
and imagining the places they will visit
the mechanic, his wife, their 2 large dogs, the assistant mechanic, and the old sekuru who cleans the yard
all crowded into the back
imagined what they were seeing
a wonderful escape
all without moving
out of the isolation of having the home fires broken
they gather in an old woman’s small kitchen at night
a mother with her 3 children from a house in the next suburb
an old woman who has brought 2 girls in from the rural areas
a man who has his arm in plaster from a police beating in Marondera
all have walked through the fire
new found friends at a new fire
gently praying for this to end
in the circle at Kufunda
when they dedicate this time to gathering their gifts
and holding their spirit
in a suburban garden
where an activists sits – alone
at the foot of an oak tree
watching the leaves fall
listening to its wisdom
in a suburban garden where 70 young children
left behind in the invasion of their villages
are being cared for
awaiting their scattered parents return
on our veranda at night
watching the gold of the sunset through masasas
and the bush babies at the feeding tray
and the acrobatics of two joyful jack russels
and our back door in the morning
counting the new flowering of the sweet peas
from this place of such beauty and courage and grief
to a web of light out there that holds us
I wish you a golden sunset