Memories: My Father

Two months ago, on the 8th of March, marked nine years since my father passed away. I did not remember then, only remembering today because of other sad circumstances which I've found myself in this past week.

I realised with a shock that the memory of his physical appearance is fading, it's getting farther and farther away, retreating to the far corners of my mind. It is like last night's dream- hovering on the edge of memory but difficult to recall or grasp. The memory itself seems like a memory of a memory, or, as Robert Jordan would say, 'escaping and spread like dust on the wind', never to be regained. 

Of course I remember that he was very tall and imposing, I remember the after school chats, my obviously boring daily accounts of what would have happened at school- which he patiently and lovingly listened to, the jokes and the walks. I remember too, the deep voice, and the sense of power and immortality dad projected.

More clear are the memories of feelings, the love and the sense of security I got when he was around. The sacrifices he made to make our lives more comfortable, the loving smile and the stern warnings. At least now I am certain that these will never go away and for that I'm grateful.

There are obviously some positives to be gained from my forgetfulness, the pain is no longer as sharp as it used to be. The passage of time eroded memories and pain alike and now I can look back on those dim memories without shedding too many tears.

But the realisation that I'm forgetting made me sad, and I imagined what I'd remember, say, in forty years- nothing. Would it seem like he never existed? At this rate, sad as it may see, that is a possibility.

I wish I could remember more, I wish I could remember everything, but sadly, the memories have, over the years, slipped from my mind. I was almost twelve when he died and that, coupled with the fact that I have been quite busy- and perhaps subconsciously trying to forget- makes it even harder to remember.

So I opened my eyes and saw the world differently. I decided to clutch those faint memories and make sure that they never grow fainter. I decided to fan the flame of those dim memories, to make them burn forever in my heart and mind.

I will try to become the man he wanted me to be.

And I will not forget the anniversary of his death again, nor will I ever forget his birthday.

I will not forget any more of what I remember now. I will gather more about him, things I once knew and even those I never did.

I will retrace the footsteps of my life and renew the memories, go back to the places dad walked, the people dad loved, the people dad talked to and other people with whom he shared his life.

Most importantly I will spend more time with my family, more time with my mother, my brothers and sisters, my uncles, aunts and friends; so that when, one day, they depart from this earth, I will have rich and numerous great memories of their lives.

I will appreciate the living because  I have realised that they can become the dead without warning.

And I will make sure that the memory of my father never dims.

I hope you do the same to the people in your life.

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The days of our lives

It's been an eventful week, and with the way things are going, it certainly promises to be eventful through the next week and beyond. But by eventful I don't mean wonderful or that I enjoyed it, in fact, if truth be told, this past week has been horrible and by the look of things it might get worse.


We had University elections on Thursday and instead of coming first ( which we normally do) we were second. The counting proceeded slowly and that, coupled with allegations of the administration interfering with the process, made some people feel they had to break a few windows and doors to express their discontent and funnily we were the suspects. That was ridiculous because we were counting the votes when the stone throwing began and we, just like the Dean and others, had to run for dear life and seek shelter in a toilet. So, a few broken windows, meaningless allegations and several people fainting later the winner was announced and we thought we had had the weeks biggest news.

Then came the shocker- on Friday morning some friends of mine were summoned by the Dean of Students concerning a newsletter that had been printed and distributed on the day of the election. The newsletter claimed, among other things, that a meeting had taken place between the Vice Chancellor and my friends to discuss "Key reforms". An agreement had supposedly been reached and the "reforms" would be implemented starting the following Monday. There was even a picture of my comrades with the Vice Chancellor just under the headline.

The Vice Chancellor was- and I presume he still is- furious and wanted the head of the writer(s) of the "damaging and defamatory" material. What  he failed to understand is that in their excitement my friends uploaded the pictures on Facebook, not knowing that someone would use them to further their own ends. Needless to say, the Vice Chancellor found them guilty of tarnishing his 'good' name and several other offences and suspended them.. Part of the suspension letter read:

The deception caused defamation of the Vice Chancellor's character by potraying him as engaging in discussions with ZINASU which is currently considered a notorious student pressure group.

Why the VC felt that the biggest, most respected and oldest students' movement in the country is a 'notorious student pressure group' remains a mystery.

Now, to spiritual matters. Prophet Makandiwa has joined TB Joshua in prophesying deaths. Makandiwa has promised a death on Friday morning, a death, he says, that will plunge Zimbabwe into chaos.TB Joshua's prophecy was rather wide and ambiguous, he said the death of an African leader is imminent and urged people to pray for their leaders.

This latest development makes Friday a day to look forward to, not because I expect any death, but because it will serve as proof to the truthfulness of these prophets. If no one of importance dies on Friday then I expect some churches to be abandoned by their followers but if someone really dies then these prophets will double their congregations and, presumably, earnings.

But if it is indeed true, I'm worried about the turmoil and chaos that will follow.

I don't set much store by prophets and their prophecies but sometimes it is prudent to listen- or at least wait.

And I feel sorry for whoever is going to die, if anyone, and I hope the ancestors judge them fairly.

Most importantly, those who might be targeted by such prophecies should mend their relations with the Almighty without delay!

Such are the days of our lives- Like sand in an hourglass.

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