I miss home

It’s been a few years since I last went to Zimbabwe and yesterday I woke up craving the feeling of winter ndiri kumba (at home). You know porridge rine dovi (porridge with peanut butter), kudziya kamushana (basking in the sunshine) early morning, tea nembambaira (sweet potatoes). It’s those things that make home what it is, even if the days are hectic.

I even miss the way Town is messy lol, how I don’t like going there when it rains cos I am paranoid of falling (the streets are slippery out there — I exaggerate, a bit). How the kombi hwindi (taxi conductor) knows everyone and asks you why you haven’t been taking rides “as usual” or the crazy driving tendencies if you have your own car. There’s a thing they do kumba (at home), drivers are always in a competition to beat the robot and they don’t really obey the rules of the road cos 5 cars will be parallel to each other where there should only be three. Imagine!

Then the comfort of being in your own home. Later at night when everyone is watching T.V together or talking about family affairs. It’s just beautiful man. Or when a visitor comes through and overstays (they barely do that now, it used to be a thing when I was younger). Maaanh! I miss my friends but, most of them aren’t home either. We would visit each other or perekedza each other to our houses, and you could take forever on that walk (as long as all my chores were done).

The nostalgia runs deep y’all. However, the reality of how things are tough now at home makes me think twice about going back at all. I keep praying that God’s hand rains a manifestation of His blessing that is known to be my country’s (Zimbabwe is the breadbasket of Africa). I like to believe that even though circumstances indicate otherwise, the truth of who we are as a people can’t be changed. We are hardworking, joyful, resilient, loving… we are one! Phew, I miss the days when people weren’t so self centered and afraid of being overtaken by the other. We helped each other up (yes, we still do) but, it’s not the same anymore. I miss home. I miss being surrounded by my people. I miss watching kids play fish-fish in the street… that used to be me but, I’m a little older though I’d join them for a second if I had the chance right now.

Yho, I miss traveling on a bus to see ana gogo nasekuru (my grandmama and grandpapa), they rest now. Also taking the bus from here to Jo’burg then from there to Harare. The border post hustle lol, I want it all…

You know what, I could write forever. I just miss Zimbabwe. I love my home. I hope for better and brighter days for her.

PS: Uncle Beaton’s recent blog posts turns up homesickness to a 100! (At least for me they do.)