LIFE IN THE RURAL AREAS.........

Life in rural areas........

The night John visited Rosewitta at Manana Village, Majozi and Hattie staggered back home from the village, singing their favourite tune.

“Ndi-cha-hurega hwa-hwa-hwahwa, ndi-cha-hurega hwa hwa-hwahwa.” It was like their commitment to stop drinking beer, but everyone knew it was just a song and they would not stop.

Rosewitta had not come home yet.

Very early the following morning, Majozi stormed into the girls’ room. His breath smelled foul from the previous day’s drinking, like he had eaten a rotten egg. Hattie followed behind him.

“Put something on, now!” Majozi barked to Rosewitta as he snatched the thin blanket from the girls.

Rosewitta managed to grab an old T-shirt of Jaya’s, but before she had finished pulling it over her head, she felt a lash on her back. She screamed, but this seemed to send Majozi into a frenzy. He delivered lash after lash on her half-naked body, and she had no time to escape. She slumped onto the floor as Majozi whipped her.

Rosewitta’s position on the floor seemed to fuel Majozi’s anger, and it seemed like he would never stop. He was shaking with fury as he flogged Rosewitta with all his strength. He lifted the T-shirt which she had tried to put on, striking her bare back continuously. He only paused to grab another whip when the one in his hand broke into pieces.

“This will teach you a lesson, Rosewitta. African girls need to respect their parents, and I’ll pull you into line, even if it means I have to flog you hard on a regular basis.”

Melissa, Rhona and the younger girl cowered in a corner of the small room as they watched Rosewitta being flogged. Majozi beat her everywhere – under her feet, on the palms of her hands, and kicked and punched her in the stomach. She started bleeding through the nose, but Majozi did not stop. Rosewitta gathered enough strength to kneel down and beg for forgiveness, but this did not help, and Majozi beat her even harder. She tried to escape, but Majozi caught up with her in the family yard. This was not the first time she or her sisters had got a beating. Majozi regularly used corporal punishment on his daughters, but never lifted a finger to Jaya, Reginald, Saimon or the other younger boys.

*

After that incident, Rosewitta could not wait to return to Santa Maria to finish her ‘A’ level examinations. She hated her father for all the things he had done to her, but it made her more determined than ever to complete her examinations. The hard work paid off and she did exceptionally well. At school she told John that she never wanted to see him again. She soon put him behind her and was ready for university. At home she received a letter confirming she had got a place to study, and the university would open in a few months’ time.

*

My novel comes out on the 30th of November 2013. If you have enjoyed reading these extracts from my novel, I hope you will be able to grab a copy soon; and help in spreading the message.

ROSEWITTA GOES ABROAD......

ROSEWITTA GOES ABROAD........

A year had passed since the incident at Rosewitta's home. That incident was still fresh in her mind, and she always thought about Donald's death. She always remembered Donald's aunt's last words on the day Donald's relatives had grabbed her household goods and furniture, and kicked her out of her home.

“Munotadza kubereka vana, mouraya varume kuti musare nedzimba. Ndiwe wakauraya murume iwe Rosewitta,” Donald's aunt had said. These words haunted Rosewitta everyday.

Rosewitta failed to recover from the ordeal, she had sleepless nights and this began to affect her health in a negative manner. One August evening Rosewitta called up her other cousin Nora who lived in the nearby Northwood suburb. Rosewitta told Nora that she was leaving for the United Kingdom the following day. Rosewitta had already applied for an entry visa and saved a little bit from her meagre civil service salary. She was determined to leave the country with her daughter, and leave for good.

It was a long 12 hour flight to England, Rosewitta was excited that at last she was leaving behind the madness in Waverly. At the main International Airport just outside London, the route towards the immigration official looked long. There were endless conveyor belts and this confused Rosewitta. Rosewitta could not wait, her heart was pumping with excitement. She had heard from her friends who were abroad that she could get a job as soon as she landed at the airport. Rosewitta followed the signs but a sniffer dog followed behind her heels for a good 5 minutes. This made her feel uncomfortable until a security official stopped her. For a moment Rosewitta froze, wondering why the sniffer dog singled her out. She complied with the orders, though, when she was told to stop. Rosewitta was carrying a bag of mufushwa (a dried vegetable) which her cousin in Milton Keynes had ordered, but the sniffer dog was not familiar with the smell of mufushwa. The security official conducted a thorough search. Rosewitta was at pains trying to explain what mufushwa was. After the official was satisfied with what she saw, Rosewitta was given the all clear after a good one hour. Rosewitta kept praying in her heart to be let through.

At the final gate, the lady who was manning the desk asked her several questions and Rosewitta was puzzled why the immigration official was asking her so many questions. Her passport was finally cleared, and deep in her heart Rosewitta was relieved to be let through. She knew of a lot of people who had been sent back home before they even set foot in England. “Phew! Zvangu zvaita hamheno vakasara,” she sighed as she wiped her sweaty brow. When she finally left the airport terminal, it was a bit grey and raining outside. Rosewitta proceeded to the station anyway and boarded a coach to Milton Keynes.

In Milton Keynes, Rosewitta could not believe what she saw. She and Mia were shown to a very small box bedroom which they would use for the time being.

“Mainini motokasika kutsvaga basa, muEngland makaoma muno, mabills ndoo anobaya muno umu plus mudzimba umu havabvumidze overcrowding ma-local councils iwaya!” (Her cousin was explaining about exorbitant bills which they paid and why Rosewitta had to get a job fast)

“Ko mabasa acho tomawanepi?” (Where do I get a job then?)

“Moto typer kuti rese rese pa internet apa mainini plus muno muEngland munoda chiMcGyver. Motobatanidza batanidza.”

Be that as it may, Rosewitta soon found 3 part time jobs where she worked for 12 hours a day, on the stipulated minimum wage. Rosewitta hopped from one job to the other, and soon she had found her own place with Mia. She enrolled Mia at a nearby school and Mia was old enough to go to school on her own. Rosewitta did not have much time for Mia due to her very busy schedule. The two rarely saw each other.

Soon Mia joined a group of friends, and she always told them she hated school. Everyday Mia got ready to go to school, boarded the local bus but got off at the newly constructed shopping mall which was two miles away. At the shopping mall there was always a group of friends who were showing her the ropes. Those who were old enough would then smoke cigarettes and a bit of weed before the group eventually got to school. Their favourite brand of cigarettes was Mayfair. Rosewitta thought Mia was attending school but wondered why Mia did not eat at home or no longer fancied their favourite traditional 'sadza and matumbu' (tripe) meal. Mia was always full as she and her friends passed through a popular local burger shop where they bought and munched into burgers and fries.

One school day, Rosewitta came home early as she was not feeling well. Mia did not come home at the expected time and did not come home that night. Rosewitta was troubled, she went to the local police station where she found Mia and a group of friends in custody. They had been involved in a gang fight in one of the dark alleys. One of Mia's gang members was badly assaulted during the fight.

Rosewitta was told that after the incident, Mia would be released straight into care and not into Rosewitta's hands. Mia had told the police that her mother was neglecting her. Other agencies would do the work for Rosewitta. After a week, Mia returned to school where she heard that a young man from her school had died from stab wounds. She knew it was one of her gang members, but from then on life was never the same for Mia.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

I support a charitable organisation called Charity Hope Trust. Find them on http://www.charityhope.org.uk

Pink Rose

EDUCATION IN ZIMBABWE .......

My early primary school years

I started my primary education at a remote rural school in Mutoko, Zimbabwe, in the early 1970s. The civil war in Zimbabwe had only just begun and no one was sure where the country was heading in terms of the war.

Most school children came from distant villages and were walking barefoot to get to school. Most ran the danger of running into 'Rhodesian forces' on the one hand or 'guerilla freedom fighters' on the other, in the dark and scary forests which they had to pass through.

At night, I as well as members of my family and many other of my school mates attended overnight vigils where the freedom fighters taught us about the war, and how our lives would change for the better if they won the war. I remember getting excited that after the war and after getting an education we would get better homes, earn a lot of money and avoid a life of working the fields for very long hours. This purged us on - everyone at my school soldiered on with the same purpose. We knew first hand the hard life led by African children - we wanted a better life after the war. Each one of us at that rural school longed for a blissful life.

In that day and age life was hard, especially if you lived in a rural area. It was hard getting the basic things of life – food, water, books, school uniforms, shoes, pens or pencils. That remote part of Mutoko was and still is drought prone, nothing much came out of agricultural practices, so most families were poor. Hardships were evident all over the landscape – hardships caused by persistent droughts, low rainfall, extreme temperatures, poor soils and an ongoing civil war. There was very little hope in the land. During the farming season, most fields had drought stricken crops shrivelling under the sizzling African heat. The only hope laid in getting an education.

Homesteads were constructed on sandy patches of land and built of pole, dagga and thatch. Even the thatching grass was hard to come by in such a drought prone region. A majority of children came from such homesteads to attend school. I remember seeing a few dotted houses built of brick and mortar under iron roofing. Such houses belonged to those with a little bit of money. A majority of school children came from poor backgrounds and some of my young school friends were forced into early marriages because of this poverty.

Some of my classmates doubled as a cattle herders in their spare time. My two friends, Sarah and Rosewitta (names changed) who belonged to a certain religious sect had been married off at a tender age to polygamous husbands. Even though the two girls had been forced into early marriages they were still attending school. What future did Sarah and Rosewitta have? I wondered. What future did did we all have in this war torn country?

I had started my first year of primary education in 1973. Two years after that my siblings and I left the school because the civil war had intensified. I left behind all my classmates who had nowhere else to go. I left behind Sarah and Rosewitta. Years later, the war situation turned for the worst, and that school was closed. I don't know what happened to most of my school mates, whether they continued with their education or not.

(written in support of the work done by Charity Hope Trust. Find them on www.charityhope.org.uk)

BEING A WOMAN..: ROSEWITTA WAS NOW WORKING ......

A few months had passed and Rosewitta got accustomed to doing her job and using elevators. She was now confident negotiating her way round the capital and avoiding some of the crazy drivers in the city. At first she hated passing close to speeding cars as she feared for her life. She had to adjust quickly and soon she enjoyed going to work, doing her job and in no time had adjusted well to her new job. 

One cold morning, the phone rang and at the end of the line was a male voice. Rosewitta quickly recognised that it was her head of department where she worked. “Come to my office immediately” the voice said with a sense of authority and urgency. Rosewitta panicked but abandoned everything that she was doing and rushed for the head’s office. “Office protocol,” she reminded herself.

She went past the boss’ secretary and went into the office which had self locking doors. “Sit down, sit down,” Mr Jona said in a calm, smooth and seductive voice. “Sit on the sofa Rosewitta, and relax” as he motioned the sofa, “I know these sofas are more comfortable than those you have at home.” Rosewitta sheepishly sat on the sofa not sure of what was going on. She sat herself uneasily on the edge of the sofa. 

“Rosewitta, you know you are a beautiful young woman. How about you and I go out together for a candle lit dinner and later satisfy our needs. I know a beautiful girl like you got needs” Mr Jona said lifting his eyebrows and drawing himself close to Rosewitta and playfully stroking Rosewitta’s shoulder. Rosewitta became confused. Mr Jona chuckled and continued “I will give you all you need, I’ve got lots of money to spare, Rosewitta, and all I need is you to be by my side. I'm really starved of  …... of …. you know what I mean, Rosewitta. I will give you all you need, money, a quick promotion, what do you say hey sweet, sweet, Rosewitta” he continued in his seductive manner and went ahead to explore and undress Rosewitta’s body with his eyes, not giving her any chance to respond. Just as she turned her head, Rosewitta saw a bank statement in Mr Jona's name on the sofa where she was sitting. She was not sure of what she saw, Rosewitta stole another look to confirm what she had seen. The statement showed a lot of money. 

“You won’t have to work hard ever again in this department if you say 'yes'. Look at the famous couple in this department, the Ibwe's, they’ve been married for a couple of years now but the wife used to be a junior officer.” Mr Jona paused.

“How about that, how about booking a posh hotel tonight, so that we have a night of passion? I need you tonight” the man said licking his lips with burning desire. Mr Jona was now pacing up and down in the office. Rosewitta looked at Mr Jona and could not see anything likeable or attractive about him. “If he was the last man on earth, I would not fall for him, he is ugly, and has the features of a hippo. How on earth can he even suggest this?” Rosewitta looked lost in thought for a moment but realised that she had to think of something quickly. She quickly came back to her consciousness. 

Rosewitta could see that Mr Jona was now uncomfortable in his trousers and that made her uneasy. An incident about her rape ordeal years back flashed back into her memory. She remembered how long back Goliath had raped her in full view of her sister Melissa. She remembered how Goliath had at that time pushed her to the ground with so much strength so that he would rape her. Such an incident did not easily come off her mind. “Are all men like this?” she wondered, painfully reflecting on what had happened years back, with a teary eye. Rosewitta recalled what her childhood friend Hannah had gone through all those years with Mr Chokunyanya. She felt a lump in her throat.

********

Thanks everyone (from around the world) for your readership! I have a story to tell and I hope you will keep reading!

PINK ROSE

Chief Tula- just for laughs, still under construction

Chief Tula became so powerful, he became proud of his conquest. He began to oppress his own people and treat them harshly. His people disliked him further and complained a lot behind his back. Chief Tula discovered from informers that he was becoming very unpopular among his own people, and with those whom he ruled. This made him very angry against his own people - that they were not grateful. Chief Tula wanted his people to be forever grateful that he had taken the land from the animals for them. “They are an ungrateful lot, after all the fighting we did for the land,” said Chief Tula shaking visibly in anger. “They will regret that they ever complained against me,” Chief Tula declared. He severely flogged and tortured anyone who wronged him. He took over wives and children, and pieces of land from men who committed serious offences. Women who committed offences were forced to work in the fields and flogged at the same time. Tula forced young boys and girls who committed offences to marry at an early age. No one was allowed to speak against Chief Tula. Chief Tula had changed.

Chief Tula spent most of the wealth in the country in fortifying his position of authority so that no-one would ever approach him without being screened heavily. He did not want his subjects to see the luxurious mansion he had built for himself and his family, a mansion which commanded a good view of the kingdom. His subjects had to pass through five fortified walls before reaching the chief and were stripped naked to ensure they did not smuggle anything dangerous near the chief and his wives. Male aides strip searched women and detained them for long hours before letting them in, even if the women worked for the chief. Some of the aides occasionally raped the women before releasing them. Chief Tula held a ceremony every year to choose a beautiful young bride. Any woman who refused to be his wife was raped by the Chief aides first then killed. Just like Lion and Tortoise had done, Chief Tula took a wife every year and from any tribe that he wanted. His estate was big enough to accommodate all the women he wanted to marry. His cruelty and greediness increased day by day. He continued to grab some of his own people's wealth to add on to what he had.

Chief Tula bore several hundred children with his many wives. His male children did as he did and married many wives. Chief Tula 's eldest son called Gubba was known to have a fiery temper just like his father and had five wives. He was as cruel as his father and he was the one who executed his father's cruel tasks.

BEING A WOMAN - extract 3

“Pssst, pssst, young lady, what is your name, could I take you for a drink tonight?” they heard a male voice  from behind them. The girls stopped and turned but did not know which of the young women he was referring to. “You young lady, what is your name?” the man asked, gently touching Mary on the shoulder. When Hannah and Rosewitta turned they recognised that it was Mr Dune. “Hello Mr Dune?  We hadn't noticed  it's you. What can we do for you? How is Grace?” Mr Dune stood back as he heard his name being mentioned. He stood near the four young women shocked that someone recognised him. For a moment he did not know what to say. “So you want one of us? You might not know us but we know who you are because you used to pick one of my classmates, Grace, from Santa Maria.” 

“Please ladies, do not tell my daughter Grace that you saw me here,” Mr Dune pleaded. 

“Do you want advice for free? Go and look after your wife and children, they need you more at home, more than we need you here.” They moved closer to Mr Dune almost surrounding him in an intimidating manner, then they left giggling away and laughing at that man's behaviour. Rosewitta had been at the University for about 6 months now.

The scholarship which Rosewitta got took her to the University where she enrolled for an accounting degree. She did not pursue a law degree as she had planned, but Hannah did. At the university she learnt that a lot of female students had got there through affirmative action to encourage girls to get an education, but fortunately Rosewitta had adequate passes and did not need any affirmative action. The male counterparts at University thought most women had gone that far through affirmative action. Due to this widely held view, they did not view female students with much respect. A lot of those female students looked modest and some of the male counterparts thought they were products of affirmative action. Rosewitta knew she was not the only one who came from humble beginnings. 

BEING A WOMAN- extracts

Hattie stood in the middle of the road when she spotted the yellow and brown coloured bus from a distance. She stood in the middle of the road to ensure that the bus stopped. She was nearly run over had the driver not swerved to the left road verge. The driver missed her by inches. “Muchatsikwa! Mugoti kuonda kunge tsono, musoro senge demo!” the bus driver shouted. The bus had stopped on the roadside anyway as Hattie had intended. Hattie saw Rosewitta off on the tatty and puffing Birds-view Bus on the long trip to the central station in the capital city. As the bus left the road verge lifting a whirlwind of dust and taking with it Hattie’s waist wrapper, Hattie shed a tear and kept waving her thin cracked hands to Rosewitta until the bus disappeared on the bend, and engulfed in the thick fumes which it left behind. As Hattie was waving goodbye, she reminded Rosewitta to study hard, to write letters, to remember her background and behave well at school. She kept repeating this to herself and smiling long after the bus had disappeared. A group of cattle herders wearing torn clothes who were passing by stood to stare at Hattie and wondered whether she had lost her marbles. Anyway, they remembered that she came from a rather strange family. Hattie saw them staring, she plucked a whip from a nearby bush and shooed the boys off. “Voetsek” she said to them. Hattie had always been the village spectacle.

The Birds-view Bus was the only bus that Rosewitta could take en-route to her new school. The bus was so slow, Rosewitta thought it would never reach its destination. She only imagined what would happen to her for the first time at that notorious station. A school bus would collect all the students to her new school. The thought of going to that Central bus station on her own made her shiver. She was particularly worried about the pickpockets who plied that bus station and took advantage of people who looked rural and lost. Her mother had tied the few dollars that she was to use for pocket money in a piece of dirty cloth. She made a long string out of several pieces of cloths to make a string long enough to go around her waist. Hattie tied that string around Rosewitta’s hip, and told Rosewitta to tuck the knot with money under her groin where she was sure no-one would reach. The cloths were so dirty that Rosewitta left a trail of foul smell as she walked. Rosewitta felt embarrassed by this, but Hattie had insisted so she had no choice but to comply. Rosewitta did not have a purse to keep her money safe. She could not afford one. At Harare Central Bus Station, a very polite man approached Rosewitta and offered to help her with her suitcase. Rosewitta was grateful for the help. She did not even bother to look at the man closely. She was shy to look at him that close. A well mannered African girl never looked a man in the eye. Rosewitta remembered her manners. The man helped to carry the suitcase and accompanied her to her school coach. He was so kind she even saw him handing over the bag to another man on the roof of the school bus. Rosewitta smiled at such kindness on such a busy place and among such a hive of activity at the Station. She clapped her hands respectfully, thanking the man for his help. She was satisfied that she was now safe. Rosewitta then showed her vouchers to the driver's assistant and quickly boarded the bus to get herself a comfortable seat. She was happy that her journey had been comfortably safe and did not believe that the station was a haven for pickpockets.