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Candid Date: Same tyrannical govt, different faces

Opinion & Analysis
In life people have some significant milestones from their past that design their future. The important milestones in life normally make or mar an individual’s destiny. Based on the premise that school days can profoundly influence what becomes of individuals, school days constitute a major milestone in life.

In life people have some significant milestones from their past that design their future. The important milestones in life normally make or mar an individual’s destiny. Based on the premise that school days can profoundly influence what becomes of individuals, school days constitute a major milestone in life.

Masola wa Dabudabu

smith

The past holds the key to the present. Once in a while people should revisit their past in order to make sense with their here and now. As one who normally does what he preaches, I have decided to take a stroll down memory lane to unravel the influence of my past on my present. I now take some time to reminisce on my formative school days at primary school.

I started primary school at Induba Primary School in Bulawayo in 1969 during the dark days of the rebel regime that was fronted by former Prime Minister Ian Smith. School days under the Department of African Education were fun. We had free milk (umkara) delivered in huge silver cans to supplement our diets. On other days we were supplied with malt (amahewu).

It was fun while it lasted. The country was under an illegal government that had instigated the Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) as part of redefining insolence and disrespect towards the British crown. Whites were a species above the rest, followed closely by people of mixed race parentage and people with full-blown dark skins were at the basement of the order of recognition.

On a positive note, the City of Bulawayo had public amenities and utilities that operated like clockwork. Access to the amenities and utilities was graded according to one’s race. There were swimming pools for blacks in Mpopoma and Luveve, there were schools for blacks and excellent ones for whites. There were mansions for whites, hovels for blacks and medium-sized houses for people of mixed parentage. Public transport ran efficiently and effectively, yet it was blighted by segregation based on colour bar.

Still we happily went to school. As young learners we did not know much about our country’s political situation as long as our bellies were full. Our parents instilled godly fear regarding our approach to whites without explaining the dynamics at play.

Some youngsters took this literally to hide in dangerous and unsafe places at the mere mention of a white person in the vicinity. Our parents did not help the situation as they kowtowed to the whites in the most humiliating of manner.

We had no idea that we were colonised. All we knew was that the whites were up there and we were down, down there in ultimate debasement and we somehow accepted it.

Maybe we were young and foolish or perhaps, naive and oblivious to our state of oppression. Our parents never whispered about fighting the system, but actively sought opportunities to work for whites as housekeepers, babysitters and farm labourers..

On a national level, the prospects of majority rule were fading in the horizon as African nationalism was vacillating between disorganisation and in-fighting. Some nationalists were either languishing in Gonakudzingwa Restriction Camp or travelling the length and breadth of the globe seeking support for the cause. As young school children we did not give a damn as to who went where for what and who was detained where for which reason. We wanted to be fed and for our thirst for knowledge to be quenched.

As we learnt later on, the learning we received was tailor-suited for the prevailing political situation. Although the syllabus was streamlined for blacks, we were afforded some opportunity to mimic what went on in English grammar schools. The major difference was that it was done at a very low level, deemed suitable for a racial group that was at the lowest rung of the ladder of privileges and rights.

Apart from imparting the ability to read and write unto learners, the education system also doubled up as a brain-washing mechanism to the advantage of the illegal regime. For instance, boy learners were encouraged to belong to the Boy Scout movement where basic survival skills were taught. The scout movement made boys recite the Scout Promise with a touch of conviction and diligence. Not knowing what they were promising, the learners inadvertently mortgaged their souls to serving the queen at all costs. I personally grew with the hope of one day serving the Queen and I am sure it was so for many others who attend Rhodesian schools.

The education system was used to enlighten as well as to subjugate.

As I pen this instalment, the picture of the Queen of England is staring at me as if it is a dedicated sentinel watching over my steps.

Is it my early encounter with vestiges of colonialism that made me leave motherland for the queen’s citadel? The answer is a roaring “no”.

I left Zimbabwe because the Satanism of Smith’s minority government was replaced by President Robert Mugabe’s inconsiderate majority government. In present-day Zimbabwe, white perfidy was replaced by black treachery.

●Masola waDabudabu writes in his personal capacity