Once upon a time there was a country known as Rhodesia. Rhodesia was an epitome of racial discrimination, the face of injustice. A minority reigned supreme over the majority.
By LEARNMORE ZUZE
The minority held 90% of the cake while the majority scrounged for a measly 10% of the cake. The minority set itself at an economic pedestal higher than the majority. And as they say: “When the majority gets angry and starts speaking with one accord, the result is often predictable.”
Ultimately and unavoidably the majority would triumph and they did. Rhodesia the unjust country would fall and it did. Despite its nauseating injustices, Rhodesia had some curious points. In Rhodesia, it mattered little whether one was educated or not, everyone had a job to ensure they keep wolves away from the door.
There was something for the Harvard graduate, something for the local graduate, a piece for the modestly educated and indeed something for the one who relied on physical strength. Both the educated and the uneducated could make a decent living in it.
Parents could take their children through school with relative ease, even rural folk. Many, who never knew Salisbury, could afford to take children through university.
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In fact, a parent in the rural areas only needed to sell a single beast to take a child through university, a single beast! A parent only had to contend with token fees during primary and secondary school years.
The interesting twist was that upon completion of the degree it was a given that the rural child would turn the tide as they would land a job which allowed them to buy a house and a car. They could further take their young siblings through school and “repay” their parents for all the hard years of toil and sacrifice. Some, after university, had plenty scholarship opportunities.
The same was true for those who were in various institutions of tertiary education. It was almost impossible to come to the glittering lights of Salisbury and not find work, real work, in industry, not vending. People who survived on vending were spaced and far between. Very rarely did people leave the country to go to neighbouring South Africa. Those who opted to visit South Africa were infamously referred to as Vanamujubheki, a derisive term. There was little motivation to visit the country. Everything that one needed was readily available within the borders.
Another feature of Rhodesia was that the roads were dark and tarred; no potholes and no menacing kombis driving in wrong lanes.
Coming to the issue of town planning, in every residential area there were houses and space was left for shopping centres, recreational and sports facilities.
There was provision for schools and beer gardens in town planning. These were some of the points of Rhodesia though well-known for its repressive and insensitive conduct.
Now, fast-forward to the country Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe is the epitome of social freedom. The citizenry can freely move anywhere in the country even in the famed First Street which was formerly a preserve of the white man.
Depending on financial muscle, the black man has economic freedom as never before; he can own business, employ and virtually live anywhere they want. It is palpable the social injustice has been replaced by independence, but wait a minute; like Mahatma Gandhi noted, “With independence comes great responsibility.”
And it is one thing whether independence in Zimbabwe has come with the necessary responsibility. Talking of town planning, nearly all the places in suburbs that had been left for recreational facilities have been turned into residential stands. The soccer and netball fields have vanished.
Land barons have become a law unto themselves usurping councils’ roles and parcelling out land to people. Zimbabwe is a country without its own currency and it looks like little will change in the future.
There is now “equality” in terms of employment — whether one is from Harvard or never attended elementary school, all are out roaming in the streets of Harare because there are hardly any jobs.
Parents now have to fork out excessively more when a child reaches university; more than required in primary and secondary school.
In essence, the poor, it can be safely said, can no longer afford university as close to $2 000 is required yearly.
This amount sounds more like the very amount that students should receive as grants from the State, but the tide has shifted.
Most adults, in their early years, knew little about what a pothole was yet today primary school kids sing about potholes.
The roads have become filled with potholes and craters. The glitter has been vanquished. The city known as Sunshine City has lost its lustre; it is now a hub of criminal activities as the ever-increasing number of street children seek means to survive.
Virtually everyone is thinking of better prospects outside the country with millions having left for foreign lands.
The comparison can never be exhaustive, but indeed it’s a tale of two countries