On Thursday I saw Jimson (not real name) in a drunken stupor struggling to stand his feet swaying from side to side like a candle in the wind.
Clad in tattered jeans, a black oversize overcoat and military type boots one who did not know him would mistake him for a patient in the psychiatric unit. His emaciated partner, a member of the canid family circled around him wondering what had gotten the better of its master. Poor dog!
On his head he wore a woolen hat which made him look senior even to most of the patrons at the Chimuti drinking spot. Wore is decent, the hat was just placed on his head like that piece of cloth put on the head of a scarecrow.
Even the village headman and my own ‘homeboy’ VaMbizvo looked younger than my peer Jimson. Everyone listened to him like children listening to their white haired elder chronicling about his teenage days. Jimson would even tell the elders about their childhood.
Such has always been Jimson, even during those days we used to gather at the Neshuro bus rank, turned to a makeshift boutique waiting patiently for the relief teaching posts ‘that were never ours’ at the old BSPZ building.
Jimson would tell us a lot of stories ranging from the domestic front up to the wild wild west. He would take us to the liberation struggle days as if he was there. A Dambudzo Marechera type.
Back then, he was all sober, a devout Jengenisheni Church guy who would not utter a paragraph without making a reference to one of the prophets at his church, Amos. Now his voice is feeble and he has grown thin and weak.
His weak voice coupled with his statements one day would have him relegated to a psychiatric centre believe me you. You can’t make head or tail of them. He now even smokes weed and drinks opaque beer like his last day on earth. He has seemingly given up on life.
I bemoan the economic downturn and how it has literally killed the young man. All the days he spent chasing the white men’s education have gone to waste. He couldn’t find a job.
He tried venturing into petrol dealing playing hide and seek games with law enforcement agents and got to an extent of owning a car but he lost everything when he was busted and all his fuel taken. He had to sell his Nissan Liberty car. He was resident in the Neshuro township then after this he had to move back to Zvirikure Village a bitter man.
He now has a lot of bruises on his face, on this Thursday he had a fresh cut on his lip, visible scars of a wounded bull. What of the scars deep in his inner self. He has lost the battle with life in a country in such a state of economic haemorrhage.
He is not alone, he is a just a template of many of the thousands youths roaming the streets and speaking English at drinking sprees much to the amusement of their fellow patrons abusing drugs to swallow all the shame and pain of having their wickets down despite trying everything. Such is life for a student who had not embraced education 5.0 the new education model which makes one resilient and sustainable.
This is a belated awakening by the government but thanks to the 2nd Republic. As the man at the helm of this Republic always says, these ills cannot be corrected overnight. Its a process indeed thats needs to be done, ‘brick by brick.’
The education system inherited from the white colonial system created people meant for the office who couldn’t do anything to remain afloat in the face of economic downturns like these. An educated system that created employees and not employers. ‘I no longer befriend humans, they are a disappointment.
They let you down. The very people you trust will speak ill behind your back. Chana iwe you understand me. Ndine mureza wandoda kusumudza paMachingo. Pane vusabhuku hwedu ipapo…’ The inconsistencies in his conversations pop up. I feel sorry for the dead dad. He feels life has cheated him.
Like I said he is not alone. Thousands of unemployed youths are roaming the streets, dead men and women walking. Their faith in the system is gone because of a foiled education system. These ‘dead men’ do not see logic in entrepreneurship projects all they think of is drugs.
The female gender on the other hand have turned into sexual psychopaths selling the sacred fruit on the streets like bananas. Even the church is slowly giving up on the very principles of its founding.
On a Sunday or any other church day women go there scantily dressed. The music itself has moved from the decent hymns to electric music, women wriggling their bottoms in seductive dances. The level of immorality is pathetic. Pity humanity!
As some dead dads have thrown away their lives to the dust bin others are excelling. They have defied all odds to remain relevant in spite of the raging economic storm.
Tafadzwa Mlambo, a former Chingami Primary School student, is an example of such, a guy from a poor family, is now pursuing a Doctorate after completing a Masters in Cyber Security.
I was listening to his interview on Capitalk FM on the show Secret Ingredient hosted by Savious Sibanda, as he chronicled how he used to be sent back home for fees.
How he would brave the weather in a tattered green jersey, the colours of Chingami Primary School. Mind you, this Chingami Primary School is close to one of the largest dams around Neshuro, Chipiri dam.
The chilly weather in shorts and barefeet helped create this genious. Hammering hardens the iron they say. In his early 20s he is still raring to go and has already achieved what his seniors haven’t in their three or four decades on this mother earth. Most of the ama2000 quickly give up.
Yes, the economy is bad asi ‘toramwira makudo munda here?’ Students need more career coaching not just to be part of a university enrolment pursuing courses which will leave them roaming the streets cursing, lashing out at government for all their woes.
Gone are the days when securing a place at University guaranteed you a job. Fathers boasting to their mates at beer drinking spots that, ‘Wangu mwana ari kuMidlands State Invest of Zimbabwe.’ These tertiary institutions themselves have grown into ‘money making machines.’ Potential students need to be really careful so that they dont return after four years with heads filled with knowledge that cannot help them sustain their livelihood outside an employment cubicle.
Jonas Gudhuza, a psychology practitioner had this to say, ‘The way to go these days is polytechnic colleges rather than becoming an academic. Being an academic unofa nezhara.
Even law students are roaming the streets speaking all sorts of legal abracadabra and mathematics students speak in algebraic form arguing about vectors and volume at bars. It’s not always about government, we as individuals need to rethink this.’ These remarks from someone who has been there needs to get even to the guys at Boterere down there in Maranda. Its not just about being at University. No! It is about you as an individual making the right choice. There is more to it.
I have seen graduates shunning what they say mabasa evasina kudzidza, they even laugh at those who do while they spend time politicking and criticising the government. Well life aint a bed of roses, no government will come with food at your doorstep.
Surprisingly, these cry babies also have voter apathy. Dead dads with empty heads.
In the beautiful game of soccer the Etihad blue machine walked away with the silverware after beating Chelsea with a solitary goal. Arsenal who were tipped favourites during the course of the league went weak towards the finishing line and have suffered the consequences.
Probably they became complacent. Masikati, the Neshuro based staunch Arsenal supporter with his colleague ‘Wemanyatera’ vakasafamba vachitaura voga vanenge vahwigwa nyasha.In La Liga the Catalans were also celebrating clinching the most sought after silverware in the Spanish football league.
In arts upcoming writer, actress, script writer and philanthropist Tichamupei Comfort Nyandoro is on the verge of releasing a short stories collection bleeding hearts.
Could the bleeding hearts be those of characters like Jimson. Readers are highly anticipating this piece from this upcoming literary canon. Lets keep our fingers crossed as Masvingo rises to stamp its authority on the arts national grid.
For views and comments. Contact Chana CheMasvingo the Wordsmith 0775125488
johannesmikemupisa11@gmail.com
