I do not exactly remember where I was when I was old enough to understand much about life! While I was born on the night of 10 June 1977, during the height of the liberation war — there was to be much travelling as we ran away with our dear lives, moving from one part of the country to the other. Most notably was at one time living in Chinhoyi, Kariba, Maumbe, Doro and Magunje.
I still remember a few things about our short stint in Chinhoyi. We lived in a small brown-bricked house in Chikonohono Township, whether it was a two- or three-bedroom dwelling is far away from me now! I, however, have sweet memories of two peach trees that stood behind our house. They bore such good peaches when they were in season! Several years later my mother would still talk about how sad she was to leave the house and these trees behind. We were never to return to this house again. The people that rented the house when we left possibly took over as the new owners! How lucky they were to get a house like that!
At times we would go to the shops with my then very young mother where we bought food stuffs from a supermarket. On one such day, we passed through what was called a Luna Park, a lot of parents brought their children there because there were so many exciting games to enjoy! I remember vividly marveling at a giant doll that was named Joseph Onyango as it swayed and danced madly in the air from suspenders and a man sitting behind it controlling the moves.
It was to be in Chinhoyi at Chikonohono that my elder brother and sister started their primary education. My other elder sister was at that time going to a pre-school. One day as we drove in my father’s small jalopy we saw my sister standing by the pre-school fence. She was possibly shy or had been bullied. I remember my father and mother laughing at her and how I also joined in and called her names.
I remember how I would wave at the local bus drivers as they drove by our house. I guess the buses were called United then. They would flap their arms, mimicking a rooster, and honk. Patiently, I would wait for the buses that passed hourly just to enjoy the drivers letting go of the steering wheel to flap their arms. I believe it was the independence euphoria that I bathed in then, even though I was unaware of all this!
My mind also tells me that it is during this same period in Chinhoyi that I first attended one-man mbira ceremonies! This was to be at our house where my father would play his njari during the evenings. I do not remember if my mother danced too, but I recall her singing, and so did everyone. We would dance to the mbira late into the night and my father always had small presents for the best performer at the end of the show. I am sure he did this to add life to this small family gathering and I remember the disappointment in our faces after missing the grand award at the end of the concert. We never tired of looking forward to the next bira, and to a better display in order to get that award. My other elder sister got these best dancer trophies most of the time. There was also the category for best singer.
Many years down the lane, I regret having had this passion of dancing and singing instead of having to play njari. I am sure it was because of the small gifts that my father attached to dancing and singing. I should have opted to play njari ahead of everything, but I am sure that I had the supposition that mbira was played solely by grown ups. I am, however, grateful that the dancing and singing stuck on me up to this present day!
I also have unpleasant memories of a trip by bus from Chinhoyi to Maumbe. There was a cousin sister who at that time was married and lived in Chinhoyi; whether I cried to go with her or was made to go with her on my maiden bus trip is something I do not recall well, but there we were the two of us on a bus ride to Maumbe! It could be that I had too much to eat but something happened in my stomach and before I could have a chance to voice my predicament I had already soiled myself! She said nasty words to me as she led me to a public toilet to clean off the mess I had made of myself. I was so embarrassed that I kept my eyes down and wished myself dead than face all this shame! I burst into tears as fellow passengers shouted words of sympathy to me as I was harshly dragged away from the bus to the toilet.
The tarred roads, the electricity, the tapped water, and all the glamour that a small town could offer to a little boy like me were soon to be wiped away and disappear as we retreated back to our shop in Doro. As time passed by, I learned that I had been born at the back of this shop which served as our house. I am not sure if it’s proper to call it a township, a business centre, or just two shops and a grinding mill, because it was just our shop — a grinding mill twenty or so yards away and another shop a further sixty odd yards or so away. It was to be at this place that we stayed a little longer and I also began to understand a little bit about life for I was old enough by then to run around on my own without anyone getting worried.
In the meantime we had left my two elder siblings: Netsekai and Forward in Chinhoyi since they were at school there. This could have been due to the fact that it was in the middle of the school term. They were, however, to join us shortly thereafter in Doro. I remember a day when I accompanied my mother to Nyamupfukudza primary where my immediate elder sister was to start school; it was the opening of schools and l cried so much since I also wanted to start schooling! My mother said it was impossible for I was too young and I needed to wait a little longer. The headmaster came to her rescue as he asked me to put my right hand over my head and touch my left ear, I tried but I failed to do it! We then made an agreement that I was to start school should I manage to perform this feat which I thought very unreasonable. I failed to understand the logic and was thus dragged out of the classroom and headed back to our little shop. I was to spend the next several days trying to reach out for my left ear, but it was a none starter, and I soon forgot about it as I drowned into the daily lives of childhood games in this small village.
There was to be an evening when we had just sat down to have supper outside when some very strange visitors arrived. They were soldiers in uniforms and carried guns with them. My eldest sister who was fetching something from a small room detached from the shop which served as our kitchen bolted and melted into the darkness! One of the man yelled at her to stop but she took no heed and ran away with her dear life. They told my mother that they wanted to buy something from the shop. As my mother fetched the keys to go and open the already closed shop I cried to go along with her and she motioned me to follow. I helped her in my small ways as she served these vicious strangers silently. I only learned later that she was scared as she narrated the story to someone several years afterwards, but by that time I thought she had not cared a bit! I am sure this incident and others led us to leave Doro, but as I said before, I am not certain of the sequence of events since I was young.