My mother always told me when I was growing up
not to look for good or evil by what it looked like, but by its fruit how people act. I
believe our generation in Zimbabwe was the second to experience a wicked
phenomenon that had already swept across Europe and certain parts of Asia and
the America’s over the last century. The sickness itself infected us during the
colonial era with their arrival for such a sickness had never existed among our
peoples but then again it might just have being a matter of time, the
destruction of the traditional family unit which was our strong hold and our
cultural values which were our force field against the attack, infected and
unknown, we started to show clear symptoms just before the revolutionary/
anticolonial wars, and “it” ultimately became a mutating virus at independence,
which reflected in the era’s value systems changes, some we choose our self,
some imposed on us ,it doesn’t matter at the end of the day the people were
sick, but like any strong people some of us developed an immune system a new way of thinking and it was war, we were
drawn into a dog fight with no rules of engagement on either side “just us”.
The sickness I speak of and the fruit we became and were forced to eat is “the
fatherless generation” the strange fruit destine in the future at one point or
another to destroy each other. I think we are doing better than the rest of the
world because of our immune system which would be eons of Culture that stems
back to beginning of the world itself, well… well it simply refused to lie down
and die, “it” our immune system new well the only thing constant in life was
change and although it was not ready for the viciousness of the attack, it
managed to simplify itself because it knew after watching over the ages the
simpler the organism the better its chance of survival and planted this seed in
some of us and somehow we survived, but do not be fooled many us are still
infected.
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