The soul of the nation has been ripped off and vandalized . .Living behind the rapped ghost of a people unable to look each other in the eye. The Village Chief walks naked .Berefit of garment he struts ,a long ,troubles a throng . His battling feuding sub Chiefs fumble - in -the wrong ,watching each other s moves,drawn daggers hidden in bloodied cloaks.Divided in everything except the demonic desire of the Chief s demise. No one claps,not even the eunuch ,whose lecherous loins are dwarfed by the stench of power gone awfully rotten in the kingdom. The Bishops of chaos ,pontificate no more,shocked by the poison of their progeny.Even vultures swoon ,far ,far away from ,this sodomised carcass . The witches are keeping inside,with their humbled cobras and restless fetishes. This year a miracle happened.A mouse ate a lion.A whole damn lion. Even the village idiot whines no more.He skunks his tail ,in cow dung and scratches his Crown Jewels with the sweat of his conscience . It is that year ,that the hyena swallowed the elephant s liver and found it could not chew the same.The year it rained the saw dust of a nation s shame. Wananchi,I met a senior war veteran yesterday.One of the many ,who on many ,occasions ,invaded my office in the past years send by the many hidden forces of our multi dimensional faces . The comrade ,was so overjoyed to see Wanachi.Lost brother ,meeting another brother.It was touching. But the comrade ,spoke for the Wananchi.This is not what we fought for ,he says to me.We did not fight for one man to own us.We fought for freedom.We fought for every black man.He continues. He then gives me a huge bear hug.But the end is near ,he says.Tell your boss ,keep the peace,they want to shed blood .He wipes a tear from his eye.He hobbles away with his ruck sack.He does not look back. His beard blowing into a cold morning ,hero-less a few days from Heroes Day. A symbol of broken dreams. Wanachi, I also met a dear friend .Like all of you he had invested heavily in the election.He had kept the faith and knew there would be a victory for the Wananchi. He had begged and borrowed to ensure his family scattered across the globe ,having been splintered by the failures of the Revolutionary Party would be back home. Some had resigned,others had already send their goods back home.Now his plans have been jolted into a shocking reality.Keep the faith ,I say to him.Let them come back.Its there country too.They too are Zimbabwean,I say. Wananchi ,there are many out there whose plans have been stolen or put on hold or freeze.As if you were some fancy television that can be paused,rolled back or fast forwarded . They have played little gods with our own lives,rearranging same like some muppets .Reminds me of the clay houses we used to make way back in the townships. For those that will try to understand the true nature of what has happened,in future thesis, let us those living this nightmare tell our story with the freshness of contemporaneity,( Emmanuel Magade did I get your word right) The center pivot of our reality is that whilst the Wananchi campaigned and placed their faith in democracy,others those who control the State ,concentrated on voters roll,on disenfranchisement ,on the courts,on coercion on capturing ZEC and other shenanigans. Millions were invested ,in terrorist organizations like ,Nikuv,in intimidating traditional leaders and in manufacturing illegality. In short ,the simple reality is that while some of us captured the people,others captured the State.The State became the key instrument of subversion. The narrative is very clear ,it is the People versus the State.The State against the Wananchi. Tendai Biti
Posted on: Fri, 09 Aug 2013 16:25:13 +0000
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