Open Letter to President Mnangagwa

My open letter to the powers that be

Dear Mr President,

My name is Humphrey Chiranda, an ordinary Zimbabwean whose life has been adversely affected by politics of the day and the corruption going on in our country. Like every patriotic citizen, I try to live a simple yet honest life. I try not to engage in any criminal activity. In that way I can say I am a law abiding citizen and a proud alumni of the University of Zimbabwe.

However, the reason for this open letter Mr President to you is not to describe who i am but a response to your address this morning which called for unity of purpose while guarding and cherishing our country. To these I stand in unison with you. However, there are some areas in which I strongly disagree with you. As such, I will detail them below:

Mr President, Sir! A leader who fails to see where he is erring is a true defination of a bad leader rather every administration governing on behalf of the citizens who elected it has a mandate to be open to scrutiny and slow to anger but i failed to get note of this in your address rather it was chillingly threatening. As i write this I am petrified but my empty stomach and bleak future that lie ahead should i remain in Zimbabwe are telling me to pour out my heart to you. Why point fingers, Mr President ? Honestly, in this age you continue disregarding the intelligence of the Zimbabwean people, these are ordinary people raising simple but pertinent points which I believe should you take time to listen-your administration will have a smooth operation yet you chide and call them detractors for raising such. You lowly think of them indeed, so you think their actions came to be, because of external influence, really?

The corruption that goes on unabated, hunger, soaring prices, nepotism, stifling of our voices, police brutality, the murder of the innocent 7 in August 2 years ago, abduction, torture and killing of innocent people whose only crime is to tell you your misgivings among others are the very same things pushing Zimbabweans to speak up. You once remarked that you’re a listening president, if this is still true please why can’t you take time and pay attention. Perhaps you will see that we are fighting the same enemy . All these have made people aware of how rotten our country has become. Exposure to good governance, in well run and developed countries opened our eyes really. I categorically state that our demanding of a better Zimbabwe is legitimate and has nothing to do with foreign powers.

Please stop giving us a middle finger

We only want a functioning Zimbabwe

Patriotism is not being loyal to you Mr Mnangagwa or ZanuPF government. Patriotism is a love for country, critique government policies, as well as question if your actions are for the betterment of country. That is patriotism.

I am a patriotic Zimbabwean. I love Zimbabwe but I do not support your party neither am I impressed by how you have tried to run this country. We only ask for a better Zimbabwe, a Zimbabwe where after criticising your policies or you no one comes in the middle of the night looking for me.

I want a Zimbabwe with running water, well manicured roads-a Zimbabwe with constant supply of electricity. A Zimbabwe with a functional healthy system- where health officials are well remunerated together with teachers. Is that too much to ask?

Do I have to be called a traitor or unpatriotic for asking such questions. Mr President, am I a dark force when I vent my fustration on social media about the maladministration in this country? Am I an economic saboteur when I complain of the corruption going on in your government at the very moment?

If these questions warrant an arrest so be it. All I want is a better Zimbabwe, a Zimbabwe where all people regardless of race, political affiliation, tribe or religion are free to express their views without fear of reprisals.

Disgruntled Citizen

Humphrey Chiranda


When Hell visits Earth

‘I lost some of my teeth and was thoroughly beaten and escaped death by a whisker, thanks to my ancestors I survived. My son I participated in this war so that you can live freely, get educated and marry whoever you want. My desire is for you to study at the University of Zimbabwe .It was difficult to study there during the colonial era. Now you can go and study there, you are free my son all you want you can get in this country called Zimbabwe. That’s why I participated in the war. It was all for you my son, all for you’.

These were the words of my father back in 1995 when I was 4. His passion and love for Zimbabwe was really indescribable. He once told me how ecstatic he was when Zimbabwe celebrated its first independence on the 18th of April 1980. Pachikomo ndipo pako mwanangu ndoda kuti uzove gweta munyika yedu ino, nekunaka kwaita zvinhu uku ndoda uzobatsire mubudiriro yenyika. He bemoaned. (I would want you to read Law at the University of Zimbabwe my son and help in the development of this country). He used to tell me this almost every day when he gets home from work and I would smile at him seating on his lap. Unfortunately my father passed away in 1997 and he did not live to see me graduate from his favourite university. Though I graduated with honours in Sociology I feel like I made him dance, ululate and smile in his grave.

The Zimbabwe that my father was seeing is no more, His Zimbabwe contracted a virus the day it was born, only a few saw it and some instead of finding a cure acted blindly. From a bread basket of Africa to a basket case, surely this puts into reality an infamous visit to earth by hell. Instead of hell visiting the whole universe he found sanctuary in Zimbabwe. You do not need to be a holder of a doctorate to fully understand that everything about Zimbabwe is not right. Yes we pride ourselves of having an impressive education system, but, what’s the reason of churning out thousands of graduates every year when the industry cannot even absorb 100 of those as its labour force. Even a 1st grade pupil can tell you all that is wrong with Zimbabwe. And yet that pupil can still fail to tell you what’s good about it. I grew up being told that things were going to be good just hang on and today I am in my mid 20s but I still ask when it is going to be good. I graduated 2 years ago and cannot even get a meaningful job except some voluntary opportunities. This Zimbabwe yes I dare say it, is rotten to the core. May be if we stop to be defensive and accept reality maybe we can build a better Zimbabwe. When a person points out where you’re doing it wrong he is labelled a traitor and someone with a regime change agenda. Democracy from my own understanding allows any person to air their opinions freely without fear of being harassed or being labelled as traitors.

A water point (Chisipiti/spring), people in Old Tafara uses it for laundry, drinking, bathing and all that require water.

I do not even understand what has become of my beloved Zimbabwe, the land I call home; the mother that bore me and gave me life. Water scarcity has become a national anthem which citizens sing every day yet they do not enjoy it. In the suburb I am currently staying they last had running water in 2005. These people have become accustomed to clear and unclean water to the extent that they cannot distinguish between clean and clear water. For doing their laundry many people have resorted to using rivers which are also polluted with raw sewage. Bathing instead of being a necessity has become a luxury. And today I ask myself what my father would have been saying? Would he be saying that my son I was wrong please migrate to another country or just hang on it’s a process or he would have been ashamed of his beloved Zimbabwe. People in Zimbabwe are in urgent need of running water to do all the basics such as bathing and flushing the toilet. And I wonder when most Zimbabweans last flushed their toilets or they have resorted to flushing them manually. This however, is not the problem of the City Fathers of respective cities and towns but the blame rather solely lies on the government for failing to implement sound practical policies that give way to meaningful development. Surely hell has visited Zimbabwe and is even more furious than a scorned woman.

My heart wreathes in pain and I cannot bear this excruciating pain anymore, my tongue is heavy but I do not know how to speak of what I am seeing lest I suffer from the wrath of those destroying the nation. The hope my father had about Zimbabwe is fading swiftly, the future to today’s youth looks so bleak and our dreams are being brutally crushed every day. For how long are we going to wait for things to get better? The so many jobs that we were promised remain symbolic. This is not the Zimbabwe that my father suffered for, my father passed away with a bullet in his hip. Psychologically he was a wreck; it was during the night that he used to have nightmares of the past war. He participated in this war so that all Zimbabweans could enjoy life in their motherland regardless of race or tribe.  However, it is quite the opposite of what he dreamed of. Graduates have been reduced to vendors and the nation itself has become a nation of vendors. When will it be better? When will I enjoy being Zimbabwean? As things stand the time seems to be far away. Surely hell is a brutal creature that has caused so much suffering to many Zimbabweans. I am tired of promises that never manifest into reality, I am tired of seeing same faces, faces of people who do not know what it is like to be poor, how it feels to go for days without eating food, to be sent back home because you have not paid school fees. I am indeed tired of politicians who do not care about the general populace. These people have visited earth with their scary fork now they’re tormenting all and sundry.

I have suffered for quite a long time, remaining numb is a sign of weakness. My armour and my weapon of mass destruction are my words. It is what I say and the necessary course of action that will determine my future and that of my fellow Zimbabweans. This is a time that requires people of natural and pure love for Zimbabwe to come together and work for the better of the nation. My fellow brothers need to be educated. Being parochial does not solve your problems rather making your voice heard is a solution.  Words are dangerous than a nuclear bomb they unsettle and make the lazy work hard. However, it is how they are used that determines their effectiveness. Violence or taking up arms will never solve our problems yet we need to throng the streets and make our voices be heard. It is not a single individual who is a panacea to the problems we are facing today. Every Zimbabwean has a role to play. I am so much tired of bootlicking and glorification of a single individual as if he is the Messiah. Even Moses needed Aaron, Miriam and Joshua among others to lead the Children of Israel to the Promised Land. My fellow Zimbabweans each one of you is the Messiah and the Moses of today. You’re that Elijah that will part the waters of Jordan River if we are to enjoy and become witnesses to a better Zimbabwe.

This has been a year of learning (Gore rezvidzidzo) for many Zimbabweans world over. I do hope that we all have learned something and we are going to help develop Zimbabwe. The heat-wave experience has been a sign or a literal visit of hell on earth. To me the heat-wave experience shows how much we have suffered and are still suffering. For how long are we going to remain idle? I dare ask you. Why do you want to remain too docile to the yoke? I ask again. Open your eyes fellow citizens. Whilst you’re suffering they own large tracks of land, they have farms and they’re living large. They are eating the good food and yet you struggle even more to get the crumbs they give you. You are better than that. Let us make hell drink of his own medicine.






The dream that never was!

Source: The dream that never was!


The dream that never was!

To them she was a woman of unmatched beauty, the finest flower of creation. A flower whose scent could make a hungry man forgets of his rumbling and complaining stomach. The rhythm of her body when walking was like a melody to their ears. What made them like her was kindness, sweetness and how she could comfort the grieving by giving them hope for a better future.

She was just a young woman full of hope for a bright future unseen when he took her as his wife against her own will. Because of his wealth and glamour many thought she was going to enjoy the union, nonetheless, it was not so. After all money cannot buy you love. He treated her like a queen and showered her with gifts all the time but she never fell for him. What bothered was that she was enjoying it all in the palace when her own people, her children were suffering and treated like less subjects yet she was the mother and a queen to them. She dreamed of a day when she would surely marry one of her own. To all the young man of her time she was indeed a woman worthy fighting for. It is not, only in legends and movies that many men will sacrifice their lives to save the woman they love. All they wanted was to see her alive and make sure her people breathe the same air as everyone. But it was not so, Karma had his own way of weaving reality. It was she who was the queen, the mother and married to a foreigner.

Her people were toiling and working for the Master all day without rest and their pride was washed away and thrown into the cistern. His bellicose nature scared them to death, no one dared to question the legality of his rule over them lest they get killed. All the wealth that her ancestors left behind for her, he grabbed and made them his and his own people. The locals were yoked to the yoke they did not know how to unchain. Their cries and pleas reached her ears but she was in no position to emancipate them from the brutal hands of the Master. What she did was only hope for the day when one of her own would marry her and bear children who would enjoy all the pleasures of life.

In their fear, so they found courage and in their tiredness they gained strength to fight against the “oppressor”. A fine young man, a gentleman in the eyes of many led them in taking up arms against a brutal system. They devised ways in which he could win her heart. They helped him come up with romantic poems. Poems they wished would lure her heart to him. It was a hard battle as the Master did not allow anyone near her and never let people talk to her and only he had access to her.

However, dark it was, there was always a ray of light shining. Instead of waiting to see light at the end of the tunnel they made their own light in the tunnel which made them reach the end quicker than anticipated before. Fortunately, after a long battle the “fine young gentleman” won her heart and they got married. To them it was a marriage blessed by the gods themselves. Their marriage brought hope to the hopeless and gave strength to the weak. In their ears whispers of dreams of brighter days were heard. The dignity of her people was quickly restored as this “fine young man” preached the gospel of reconciliation, oneness and equality. Even the Master was accepted by those whom he used to oppress and together they ate and celebrated. But unbeknown to them such happiness was not going to last long. It surely was going to be a dream that never was. For gloom and doom waited for them with wide open ferocious and brutal arms. This “fine young gentleman” as they used to call him abused his queen and slowly became what they never anticipated. He became worse that the Master himself. He plundered the few there was, killed and maimed those who speak a local language different from his. A blanket of a bleak future enveloped the face of the one who used to be a queen for she was deceived by one of her own, a young man with whom she thought she was going to have a family. He betrayed her and his own people. Surely, it pains them because their dream will never in his time unfold into reality. A Zimbabwe hoped for will never be seen in his time. In the streets many are wishing for the Master’s days to be restored because to them he was a better devil than this devil with which they share the skin tone


Are you African?

Who are you? Are you African?. What is happening in South Africa does not only signify a disgruntled, barbaric and savage citizen but rather a society torn apart and deeply rooted in mental slavery, racial prejudice, ignorance and economically displaced individuals among others. Anomie has become the national anthem down South, the authorities there are numb and they seem scared to act. Now, you! South Africans seem to have forgotten what these African brothers you are guillotining did for you during the Apartheid era. Wasn’t it mother Mozambique who provided ANC brothers with accommodation?. Even my beloved mother Zimbabwe also suffered in 1982 because of sheltering your ANC comrades. But today you seem to have forgetten who you are, Are you Africans?. Now i boldly ask you.

Where is the spirit of Ubuntu and Pan African-ism?. Mother Africa is shading blood tears due to your ignorance.Yes, today you may enjoy economic hegemony but you don’t know what the future holds for you. Brothers and sisters please stop these xenophobic attacks, these brothers you are killing are not the real enemies but your brothers in the struggle. However, what is, sure happening in South Africa is just a smokescreen and a time bomb of what is deep within a rotten society whose economy is divided and shaped along racial lines. Open your eyes and stop that ignorance, dialogue is what you need not these barbaric and satanic acts you boasting yourselves of doing. I don’t condone whatsoever the slaughter of any human being whether red, white or black. The only panacea to this hemorrhaging social order is new form of socialization, Your enemy is the system. lest you forget that we are all brothers not enemies. Zimbabwe is a peaceful country AND am proud to be a Zimbabwean. #PEACEBEGINSWITHYOUITBIGENISWITHALLOFUS


Failure is the ghost that has been haunting many people since time immemorial, a lot of people have either hung up their life boots or have given in to its ghostly reputation. Oprah Winfrey addressing Harvard graduates of 2013 pointed out that there is no such thing as failure, rather, failure is just life trying to move us in another direction. I tend to concur with Ms Winfrey, since this is quite a remarkable way of defining failure. I do believe that facing adversity is actually a part of growing into your best self. It is through those trying moments when we are refined to become better people  in life, take for example the making of iron-for it to be pure and what we admire, it has to pass through an inferno. Hence we as human beings have to learn from that process too.

Each and every successful person out there has had moments they have failed but it is because of those moments that they have become great. They had to introspect themselves so that they would sincerely understand their weaknesses  and find a better way to invigorate themselves. Failure has to be  a stepping stone rather than a nuclear bomb in your life, learn from your past mistakes and pave a good way for yourself, set objectives and the means to achieve them. Your life is a project, so like a project the risk of failing is also high but as an individual you should priorities those things that make you successful.

Take for example a dam constructing project. For this project to be a success the important thing to do is to assemble a project team that is well qualified and experienced, a team that will surely drive the project into success. Therefore, for you also to be successful you need to associate with the right people. A group of people who are focused, a people who know what they want and how best to achieve it. You and those people have to be effective schemers, visionaries and risks takers. people who are  willing to do it right in life.

to be continued…………………………