DEFLATED, PUNCTURED AND DOWN: CAN THESE DRY BONES LIVE AGAIN? After writing my A Levels, I retreated to Sadza, the place of my birth and grooming. I just wanted to be away from the city, breathe fresh air again and be in the company of grandma and grandpa, hence help them in the field and with the cattle. I was now Holy Spirit-filled and bubbling in tongues but didn’t know much of the word. The three months that I stayed there in the countryside were trying times for me spiritually. Every night I would here some forces with jet-like speeds sweeping over the hut (as we sat to relax after supper) or as I prepared to retire in the other four-cornered by grass-thatched bedroom. The sounds would be heard only once and wait for the next day. Up to now, I can’t explain what that was by the Holy Spirit made me to know that it was some territorial spirits (spirits of the neighbourhood) that were trying to attack by the angelic host was ready to fight them up. They could only come but be given no space to land. I realised that when you become seriously born again, those spirits that have always ‘eaten with you’ at the same table, they will be furious now. How come I had spent the greater part of my life, had never experienced this only for the spirits to start coming now? Nevertheless, this for me became a moment of strengthening in the Lord. I wondered, if ever I decided to step aside and said I no longer wanted to worship God in truth and in spirit, then these forces would have a field day with me. In these days, I learnt to pray, fast and read the Psalms. I went through all the 150 psalms in the Book of Psalms, with tears on my cheeks, crying before God as I read them every day. I realised some of the psalms were scud missiles on their own. You could pray it out and it detonated right in the camp of your enemies and you would never hear about them again. Some were quite solacing and massaging. Others were deep words of appreciation of the person goodness and mightiness of the LORD. Reading and praying them was like me mining, meeting with the ore with precious mineral but also dealing with the useless material. In February results were out. I went to collect the results and they were not as pleasing. I knew the reason: I had just gone complacent and never revised after God, on 21 October 1996 had assured me I would emerge with 15points. So, I could not blame God. I knew from my reading of the psalms that he was a very faithful God. My results were as follows (Shona A, Geography D, History C and General Paper 2). I heard my colleagues (Mercy Magombeyi, Itai Muhwati, Misheck Muchimwe, Desmond Jairosi, Alfred Madondo) from the Arts class were already registering with the University of Zimbabwe (UZ) and the National University of Science and Technology (NUST). I felt so bad and so hurt and vowed that if happened to see them coming my way I would hide or run away. We had been good competitors and now I was somewhere left behind. I could have done other degrees like Political Science for it could take 10 points but I just didn’t know what it was about. I never even went to find out about it. Besides, I had not applied for it so why now was I supposed to go for it (have a degree for the sake of having it?). Those who had said I must not go to A Level had been proved right and I could not get anywhere near them. There I was back to the shack. I would have been at Alfred Hodson Hostel, of NC5 (Bagdad) or NC2, or NC3 NC1 or New Hall or Carr Saunders (students’ residents at UZ). Alas, I was still the same poor and restrained young man, moving out teenage. For some time, I remained in the shack. ************** Anyone knows who is his/her friend or not. Someone can just be not you friend but not become your enemy. I knew these lines well. Nevertheless, I knew people I could call friend, just someone who is neither a friend nor enemy. To me friend was some I cloud ‘play with’ with ease – share a story or a joke. An enemy was someone who showed by word or action that he or she didn’t like me. Then they were those people who were neither concerned nor bothered with my life (the neutrals). I always played my cards very well when dealing with enemies and friends and never bothered with the neutrals. To my anyone who short contempt on my plans or would, in the words of one of my former students, Smart Dumba, “try to put showers” (anokuisira mashawazi), like white old televisions used to do and obliterate the picture to my vision, values and plans. If you were supportive, if you were sincerely assisting or sincerely empathising with me, you were a friend and I would easily offer my allegiance. I learnt, from childhood, to decipher between who was a friend, a neutral and an enemy. I didn’t want whole sentences from your mouth. Just phrases and expressions on the face would tell me whether I had to rely on you or not. This distinction has made me the person I am today, circumspect and suspicious until I got your true values. But people are not static beings. They change or shift positions, so one had to be careful all the time. Your greatest friend can become your worst enemy tomorrow. Most of the times, you have to play the cards very close to the chest. ************** One day cousin Y took me to the Employment Exchange (along Chinhoyi Street but near Magaba). For sure, with A Level, I could not be back to Magaba to roll the drum-sheets for door frame making. No. Y was tight to take me to this pace. We submitted photocopies of our results and my statement of results for A Level. After doing this process we waited in the shed. The place was full of unemployed people seeking work – some with certificates (academic or of attendance), sand others with testimonials for their previous employers which they called “references” for reference letters. So I was there in the camp of ‘marovha’ desperately seeking employment. An potential employer would come, sometimes with a lorry. He would tell his needs to the employment officer. The employment officer would decide whether the job required an expert of experts or it just needed casual labourers. If it required experts he would select from the papers submitted to him and because people had employment seeking numbers, he would come and call the numbers out and the person, if available would come out from the crowd of course with a very big smile. The selection of casual labourers sometimes involved handpicking from the desperate crowd. It depended on whom the officer’s eyes had landed on and liked. It would go, “Yes, you with a bald head, you with a red beret; you with a white and torn shirt; you... you...!” to be picked was the grace of God. For two weeks I was going to this place. I realised that now I only had one trousers, some balack one turning brown whom a certain brother at church had give to Y. Y then had blessed me with it. The other pair of trousers was what used to be my school trousers at Harare High, a grey one but its zip had lost the grip. I would come from the Employment Exchange, take it off, put on the gray one and put on a big t-shirt and even go to the shops. (Imika mukaona vanhu vachifamba kudai, ndivo vanoziva zviri mukati umo!) with my bit t-shirt over it, it was only me who knew that it had no zip. The pair of black trousers I had to wash in the evening so that the following day I would look cleaner; the soils at the Employment Exchange red soils and would stick fast to clothes and in the stampede of seeking to be selected clothes always looked sordid. So every evening I had to wash my only pair of trousers. Early in the morning, I was putting on this pair of trousers, with the waist wet and it would dry up in the course of the day. There I was - a desperate employment seeker. In the two weeks I was going up and down to this place (walking to be there and walking back to home-sweet-home), the only job offer I got was to be a plumber. It was some indigenous company with a name ‘J Rutize Plumbers’. I got happy to be picked but only got disappointed about the package. I made calculations and saw that I would not breakeven. So I turned down the offer! There I was back in the conundrum of seeking to be picked. We were like chickens being baited to be caught (kipukipu). The officers were now leaving me out deliberately, “Some of you we don’t know why you are here. Jobs come and you don’t take them yet continue to want to be selected. Yes, I will pick you just behind that fool!” it was turning so hostile and I was just growing tired of coming to this place. One day, as I wearily walked back to Sunningdale, I met with this guy called Nobert Marange. I had come to know him during my A Level days. He had liked my innocence as I was walking the street in my red jersely, cream shirt and gray trousers (as a sixth former at Harare High). He told me he had also done A Level but at Cranborne Boys High. After learning that I was studying History, he later gave me a book by Agatha Rahm on European History in deep appreciation of me. (I still have the book in my archives). So this day, he saw me and asked me, “Are you through with your studies, now? “Yes, mukoma I finished!” “So what are you doing now?” “Looking for a job, mukoma” “What type?” “For now, I just want any because I just want to sort my things and put my house in order, mukoma? “That is fine, mupfanha. Tomorrow at eight in the morning, come to Interfresh. I am sure you know where it is – Corner Boshoff Drive and Shepperton. Its not very far, just by the junction there. When you get there tell the security guard that you have any appointment with Mr. Makwara. Don’t answer many questions, just say that!” We departed and I smiled. The following day, at 0755hours, I was crossing Boshoff Drive and exactly 0758, I was talking to the guard. “Sir, I want to see Mr Makwara” “Do you have an appointment with him, young man?” “Yes. He said I must come at 8.” “Okay let me call him.” The guard got to the phone and soon he was speaking to Mr Makwara. I didn’t hear what they said but when he hung the phone, the guard, wore a frenzied face. He said, “Young man, why did you lie to me? He said he doesn’t have any appointment with anyone of you stature. Anyway, he said you must come through.” I walked to the beautiful reception. I was shown the office and soon I was talking to the man. “What do I do for you young man?” “I am looking for employment sir and...and ... and I need it”. He looked at me from my check to he head and back to the chest. “So what qualifications do you have?” “A Level sir. I failed to get a place at University so for now I want a job.” I produced my results and he went through them. Then he phoned someone at the Retail Department who came quickly. He was one of the managers there, in fact the head of retail division then in 1997. His name was Mr. Tauri Makaure. “I called you Mr. Makaure. I have this young man. He told me he needs a job and I thought you may need him.” “What qualifications does he have?” Mr Makamure asked. “Nothing professional but A Level?” “And how many points young man?” “Ten, sir,” not sure why he was asking. Did he mean I didn’t qualify? “So why are you not in a university?” “I didn’t qualify sir!” “Young man, I don’t think you are serious with life. I have a brother. He didn’t have even A Level but is studying towards a degree in Europe. Ummm... “ “But situations differ, sir... situations!” I tried to knock some reason into the discussion. Then Mr. Makwara said, “Lets give him a chance and he will sort his mess later.” Mr Makure nodded but still in disbelief of why I was wasting my better chances. I wanted to start there and then but since it was a food handling company they wanted me to first be tested with a doctor on many aspects. I was sent to some place in town where the doctor was. I went and got tested and brought the report and was asked to come and start the following day. I joined Interfresh on 7 March 1997 and this was to house me until 25 September 1999 when I resigned because I was now going to University. The first day I worked at the potato cleaning machine. If you were a new comer you were made to do the hard job by those who worked at the machine. The whole day I was made to open the 15kg pockets and load the potatoes into the machines after being cleaned by water they would be repacked into 2kg, Ikg or 5kg pockets. I had been given a red overall, used though and a pair of gloves. When I went back home around 2pm, 1 was so tired that I could feel pain all over my joins. On the morrow at about 9.o’clock the supervisor came to me, and with a characteristic chirimi said to me, “Yaa, Iwe mufana handiti unogara muSunningdale umu?” “Hongu!” “Saka kubva iye zvino wave kuenda kumadhirivahari. Hauchatanga nasikisi. Wave kutanga nafoo wopedza natwerefu.” Just like that I shifted and Iwas loading a lorry. My first delivery was at Strataven TM. I loved the ride. At least I had time to relax between loading and offloading. The place was very beautiful. (Little did I know I would one day become an urbanologist, diagnosing and writing about cities and towns. Mwari uyu!” The following day I was at work at 4am. The day that followed I arrived at 5 and the despatch officer threatened to fire me. Then I learnt to rely on God. I prayed, “Father, you know how I need this job. I ask you to work me up at 3.30 in the morning”. God is faithful. Every 3.30am, I would get up and I was never late again. I want to thank God who protected me all the days I walked through Sunningdale to Interfresh. There were reports of colleagues being mugged or escaping by the whisker being caught by thieves. When I started I was earning a net of Z$150 per week. I remember that I then learnt to tithe and I used to give just $Z50 and I had to be that I had to do it faithfully before God. So shifting from 50 to 60 was a big job but eventually I managed. I bought myself a few clothes and now could afford a decent meal. I was still in the shack. With Y we decided to be grown up and seek alternative accommodation. Eventually we got it at number 15818, 3rd Circle, paMukoma Mhozi. That was to be my place of residence from May 1997 until 31 November 2005 when I left for Greendale. After I had settled I now had to attend to the unfinished business of schooling. But before that I tried many things. I applied to Gweru Teacher College. I received a letter inviting me to attend an interview. The letter was written SH. I thought this was for Shona and History. When I learnt that it was for Shona only, I got to discouraged. I went into the interview with an already heart-turned upside down. When I received a letter with a regret response, that didn’t bother me much. I applied to the Centre for Distance Education (now ZOU) and wanted to do English and Communication, I could not afford the fees. I applied to the University of South Africa (UNISA). They said the place was there but scholarships might only be found foe some exceptional nationals of South Africa. I applied to some Washington University in the United States, the response was like that of South Africa. I also applied to the University of London. It was a Bachelor of Laws degree programme by distance learning. However it needed so many British pounds that I could not by any chance afford. Then I decided to re-do my Geography. Some time in March 1998 I got registered to sit for the June Exam. I registered for night school at Harare High and negotiated that I work at the warehouse rather that do deliveries. My request was granted. So at five in the evening I would be in class, with the same teacher who had taught with the same methods he had always used. Up to May we had only covered a few aspects of Climatology, nothing else. No Hydrology. No Geomorphology. No Pedalogy. No Bieogeography, No Agric Geo,, no industrial, no tourism, no whatever. However I revised the same notes I had always had. One evening as I was on my own, I knelt down in our little house and prayed. I wept before God for the exam that I was soon to face. After much prayer, I felt convinced that the voice of God was coming to me. The voice was very clear, “My son, you will get an “A””. Wiping my tears, I wrote it in my note book (the notebook is there in my archives). In a few weeks I was writing the exam. If you pick a 1998 June A Level Exam Paper 2 (Geography Syllabus Code 9156) , there is a question on the “Limits to Growth Model”. We never learnt it in class but I just studied the diagram right there, described and explained it and got convinced I hammered it. Oh my God! The techniques and map work I knew I had managed them. Sometime in July I began to wonder when the results would be out. I met this young man called Donny by the tuckshop which was at a place we called paChimbarembare (because they were all sorts of market stall then and was like Mbare Musika). I was wiling up time with Mukoma Regular Nduna after we both had come from work. when I saw Donny I asked him, “Mupfana have you had anything about June A Level results? Are they out?” “Yes mukoma Inno. They are out and I saw the guy who did well. He collected his results. Is it there were only three seaters?” He said with convincing confidence. In our exam, I saw three candidate including me. “And what symbol did he have?” I asked seeing, how already I was not coming in the picture. “He had a “C”, mukoma. Yes, a “C”!” I just tuned to Brother Nduna and told him, “I cant continue with you. Let rush home.” I walked away fast from them. I was just confused. I arrived, opened the door of our room (now with a friend I was staying in a room in the main house). I closed the door, went straight to the notebook with the message I purported to have had from God (ko yacho yekuda kuita chipositori-positorika iyi). I went straight to the page and laid it on the bed (now I had a bed with some mattress of foam rubber and a few clean blankets, thank God). I fingered each word, one by one that I had written and the after the quotation marks put, “Thus says the LORD!” And I began to ‘scold’ God. “So now God you have just become a liar! I heard something and I was convinced it was you! Now what is this news that I hear from Donny? That the best of the students among us 3 was a guy with a C? So now God you have just become a liar!” I tried to sit on the bed but could not. I tried to sit on the flow but could not. I moved to and fro with the bed and the push tray. After that I just thrust my back on the bed with my feet on the flow and looking straight on the asbestos. I wasn’t seeing them only darkness and a bad cloud hanging over my life. When mukoma Joseph Mazuruse (a friend I was now staying with) arrived, he tried to hear the story of what had happened to me but I was just numb and dumb. He cooked and I didn’t take the food). Heaven had disappointed me. The following day I went to work. After work at 2, I braved myself to go and pick my failed results at Harare High. The man I met with by the reception was Mr Mutambwa and in his jocular way he said, “Eh mupfana waingei, kwakanaka here?” “I have come to collect my results!” “Hehede, Innocent!” He chuckled in is characteristic style. “Sir I mean business here, tell me about the results. I want them now.’ He read my rising anger and he softened me. “No. June exams, the makers just finshed marking last week. The results have not been even collated. Who told you? “A certain form four student!” “No. Perhaps he meant certificates for those who write last year. Those are out!” Ah! I went back home with a bit of relief but hardened. Whatever would be the result after this storm I didn’t even bother. On the day the actual results came, I asked my supervisor to please-release-me-and-I –will-come-back-to-work. I didn’t go to seek complicated things. I actually crossed Mukuvisi River to Mbare via Benoni. I arrived in a steady but dignified step. I came to the counter at the admin-block and spoke very well of how I had come to collect my results. I saw the lady take a file. I was just steady. She fliiped though some papers and plucked out one A4-size paper, looked at me straight into the face and with a suppressed smile said, “Are you the one or makanyorerwa?” “I wrote on my own ma’m.” The question was a bit confusing. Did she mean I didn’t deserve wahever she was reading on that sheet? Then she asked me again, “Are you Innocent Chirisa? “Yes ma’m. It’s me” She stretched her hand to me and said, “Congratulations! This is just wonderful” and showing and hand the paper to me, I saw a distinctly marked “A” nicely placed on the paper. I could not help but produce tears of joy. Among the days, which I say I was happy and joyful, this was the chiefest. Oh. It was just the day. Not only was I glad because I had passed my subject but I was happy because God’s word had been faithfully executed. God had been faithful to His world (Oh, I am sorry), He was not a liar at all. (Oh, I am sorry), I had overreacted that time. (Oh, I am sorry), I had rushed to say things with my uncircumcised mouth. Oh God of Grace! Baba Guti had always taught us the “power of writing it down”. I had written it down and it had come to pass! I didn’t bother to look for anyone again, not even my teachers so in no time I was leaving the school campus. I knew definitely that mum was not at home (Matapi) but I just ran (hoping by any chance she might be there) to look for her. I came to Block 7, Room C9, Matapi, Oh my God, it was deadlocked but th door at least noticed that a happy boy had come. I left for work and then went to find mum after work. My friends, “Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning. Now in my prosperity I said, “I shall never be moved.” (Psalm 30:5-6). If God has never done anything for you, I have plenty to thank him. This was a new chapter opened in my life. By counting in now had the following: 5(Shona) + 3 (History) + 5 (Geography) = 5+ 3 + 5. Which is, 5 + 3 + 5 - 2 =13 (points). I qualified to study Law and the University of Zimbabwe then. After some career guidance, I settled for Bachelor of Science Honours in Rural and Urban Planning degree. Champions are not those that never fail but those that never quit! I was to continue to work at Interfresh for the next 12 months, not as a cornered rat but as one with a beaming vision! Hope is always needed. Hal Lindsey has said, “Man can live about forty days without food, about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but only for one second without hope”. Hope sustains. Hope is the in-thing! In Psalm 27:13-14, David says, “I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” On whose words do you stand? Whose report do you believe?
Posted on: Tue, 21 Jan 2014 06:08:23 +0000
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