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When is the old man going?

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An old woman asked me the other day: “What is happening my son? When is the old bugger going?” I almost lost my step, but quickly recovered as it occurred to me that this was one election whole generations had not seen in a long time. But to have an old woman who has since retired from her vending outside the local pub and is looking after a brood of grandchildren asking about the hottest news story at the moment meant “the old bugger” had indeed stepped on the toes (some say hearts) of people who in the past would not have been bothered about the politics of this House of Stones.

Then I remembered the women who had been battered by riot police as they marched across the country taking the regime to task about issues ranging from starving children to sanitary ware to a new constitution. Some of these valiant women had indeed met their death as they marched for a better Zimbabwe, and it got me thinking. This old woman concerned about post-election Zimbabwe, and evidently concerned about her own future and that of her grandchildren, could easily be one of those many women who in the recent past took to the streets to have their voices heard. But by the belligerence we have seen and heard with the pugnacious veterans of the 70s bush war declaring once again they will not allow imperialists to take over the country, the poor old granny could just find herself on the receiving end of booted feet, clenched fists and spiked cudgels.

And for what? For daring to demand their inalienable right to choose the political leaders they want. Does this man ever sleep? If he does, we can only guess what he dreams about. But the granny proffers a clue about what SHE dreams about. She still has hope for a better Zimbabwe.

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