This isn’t a story one can ‘like’. So hauntingly horrifying, and heartbreaking, what humans can do to each other and even now are doing in some parts of the world. I realized as I read that certain sounds, sights, and news conjures up memories I long to forget… Oh that we can treat others as we would like to be treated. We have an example to follow and God help us all.
These current political fights trigger memories of Zim politics during Bob Mugabe’s reign. We were all forced out by the security fence gate once in the middle of the day and harangued by a couple of Bob’s lackeys for what seemed hours. We later heard that someone murdered them on the train to Hwange. We stopped going to Hwange after a bus load of Italian tourists were taken hostage. I don’t remember the outcome of that.
I do know that every time I left Bulawayo too close to sunset, I spent my drive planning what I would do if caught in an ambush. I also scanned the sandy road for any signs of fresh digging. I had no real faith in the militiaman riding with me, but I did have contingency plans. I talked about it with an old trusted friend who told me that it was well known I carried cash for salaries that paid several hundred village men, so I was safe because without that cash, many families would be destitute, and apparently the belief was that without me, there wouldn’t be cash. It was pretty weak comfort, but maybe he knew more than me, because in the end, I never had problems. Several local farmers were attacked, but not me.
Children are resilient but some experiences are persistent.
We were asked to work at a school in eastern Zimbabwe at a place called Nyazura. The school was slowly recovering after the war, but needed a headmaster. When we were in the US during the home leave I mentioned in the story I posted, we met the children of the previous headmaster. It was only then we learned that their parents were murdered in their home in front of the children.
I can still feel the reaction I experienced that day even now as I am writing this.
I read your previous account/post, you unaccompanied by militia and chosen ti survive, with my coffee this morning and was unable to, just then, after my luxurious flush toilet with electric lights, spider free, to pen a proper response. I clicked on this one and focused completely on what it is that some humans (a loose term) do to others that never fail to turn my stomach, wondering how it could be reconciled. Of course, it cannot, although Elizabeth is correct, there are also acts of kindness to be focused upon.
I decided to simply thank you, Switter, for your service to a world so fraught with horror. May the memories continue to fade ever so much in the mountains of Idaho.
That means a lot, Janice. I was one of the lucky kids who found an outlet for my idealism that then carried me through my career. Am I rich because of my choices? No. Am I blessed? Far more than I deserve.
I sometimes wonder whether I should post these stories, then I read about how horrible everything seems now to some people in this country because of the election, and then I think maybe I have a duty to put a perspective on things. Nothing about this recent US election will result in anything remotely like Zimbabwe experienced after its first multiracial election in 1980. Trump will not remain in office for 37 years. People will not be beaten or murdered for opposing him. We will not need two or three hundred trillion dollars to buy a loaf of bread. Scores of thousands of people in blue states will not be murdered for supporting Vice-President Harris. Yet all those kinds of things happened in independent Zimbabwe.
I think it’s important to maintain a realistic perspective. It serves several purposes, including keeping us from looking like a nation of whiners living in wealth that is inconceivable to people in many countries around the world who must wonder if we have any idea how good we have it here.
I've always said every American needs to visit (and I've taken a few) a third world country to gain just a tiddle of what you know. You saw the worst of the worst.
Yes, this embarrassment too, shall pass. Our opportunities are our own, so many are squandered. It's all perspective. I'm blessed to be learning from you! I always look forward to reading your work. J
I'm sorry, Switter, that the world is so heartbreaking. All I can think to do is to remind myself that for every senseless act of brutality there are equivalent acts of kindness that go unreported. You yourself were the conveyor of many. Life changing in the right way, we might say.
We all have choices. We can choose to do good or we can choose to do evil. The potential within us to follow either course is a frightening power we all hold. I am fearful these days at how lightly so many of us take that power.
Yes, it's true, and an understandable cause for fear. Not only am I choosing good but I'm also opting to believe more of us are than aren't. My own personal act of subversion!
No disaster or personal horror in my meager life comes closes to what you have seen and endured. I trigger with the sound of helicopters too, but the reason is silly in comparison. Your stories are so important to us, Switter, to give us reality in its rawest, more horrific way.
Writing and sharing our memories here does take the sting if not the entire memory out of our mainstream of thought. It's a great relief to just let it all fly away.
I understand. I posted this because of the fear I have that our political divisions in this country are at a point where lines unthinkable in more rational times can easily be crossed. I hope we are better than that.
This isn’t a story one can ‘like’. So hauntingly horrifying, and heartbreaking, what humans can do to each other and even now are doing in some parts of the world. I realized as I read that certain sounds, sights, and news conjures up memories I long to forget… Oh that we can treat others as we would like to be treated. We have an example to follow and God help us all.
It happened less than 40 km from Solusi.
These current political fights trigger memories of Zim politics during Bob Mugabe’s reign. We were all forced out by the security fence gate once in the middle of the day and harangued by a couple of Bob’s lackeys for what seemed hours. We later heard that someone murdered them on the train to Hwange. We stopped going to Hwange after a bus load of Italian tourists were taken hostage. I don’t remember the outcome of that.
I do know that every time I left Bulawayo too close to sunset, I spent my drive planning what I would do if caught in an ambush. I also scanned the sandy road for any signs of fresh digging. I had no real faith in the militiaman riding with me, but I did have contingency plans. I talked about it with an old trusted friend who told me that it was well known I carried cash for salaries that paid several hundred village men, so I was safe because without that cash, many families would be destitute, and apparently the belief was that without me, there wouldn’t be cash. It was pretty weak comfort, but maybe he knew more than me, because in the end, I never had problems. Several local farmers were attacked, but not me.
My heart breaks for that poor little girl.
I can never forget her. I always wonder if she ever found peace and healing.
I hope she has the strength to do just that.
Children are resilient but some experiences are persistent.
We were asked to work at a school in eastern Zimbabwe at a place called Nyazura. The school was slowly recovering after the war, but needed a headmaster. When we were in the US during the home leave I mentioned in the story I posted, we met the children of the previous headmaster. It was only then we learned that their parents were murdered in their home in front of the children.
I can still feel the reaction I experienced that day even now as I am writing this.
I read your previous account/post, you unaccompanied by militia and chosen ti survive, with my coffee this morning and was unable to, just then, after my luxurious flush toilet with electric lights, spider free, to pen a proper response. I clicked on this one and focused completely on what it is that some humans (a loose term) do to others that never fail to turn my stomach, wondering how it could be reconciled. Of course, it cannot, although Elizabeth is correct, there are also acts of kindness to be focused upon.
I decided to simply thank you, Switter, for your service to a world so fraught with horror. May the memories continue to fade ever so much in the mountains of Idaho.
J
That means a lot, Janice. I was one of the lucky kids who found an outlet for my idealism that then carried me through my career. Am I rich because of my choices? No. Am I blessed? Far more than I deserve.
I sometimes wonder whether I should post these stories, then I read about how horrible everything seems now to some people in this country because of the election, and then I think maybe I have a duty to put a perspective on things. Nothing about this recent US election will result in anything remotely like Zimbabwe experienced after its first multiracial election in 1980. Trump will not remain in office for 37 years. People will not be beaten or murdered for opposing him. We will not need two or three hundred trillion dollars to buy a loaf of bread. Scores of thousands of people in blue states will not be murdered for supporting Vice-President Harris. Yet all those kinds of things happened in independent Zimbabwe.
I think it’s important to maintain a realistic perspective. It serves several purposes, including keeping us from looking like a nation of whiners living in wealth that is inconceivable to people in many countries around the world who must wonder if we have any idea how good we have it here.
I've always said every American needs to visit (and I've taken a few) a third world country to gain just a tiddle of what you know. You saw the worst of the worst.
Yes, this embarrassment too, shall pass. Our opportunities are our own, so many are squandered. It's all perspective. I'm blessed to be learning from you! I always look forward to reading your work. J
I'm sorry, Switter, that the world is so heartbreaking. All I can think to do is to remind myself that for every senseless act of brutality there are equivalent acts of kindness that go unreported. You yourself were the conveyor of many. Life changing in the right way, we might say.
We all have choices. We can choose to do good or we can choose to do evil. The potential within us to follow either course is a frightening power we all hold. I am fearful these days at how lightly so many of us take that power.
Yes, it's true, and an understandable cause for fear. Not only am I choosing good but I'm also opting to believe more of us are than aren't. My own personal act of subversion!
No disaster or personal horror in my meager life comes closes to what you have seen and endured. I trigger with the sound of helicopters too, but the reason is silly in comparison. Your stories are so important to us, Switter, to give us reality in its rawest, more horrific way.
They are a burden that becomes lighter when I share them.
Writing and sharing our memories here does take the sting if not the entire memory out of our mainstream of thought. It's a great relief to just let it all fly away.
💔
I can't even begin to imagine. 😓
My heart Click is not a real like. Parts of the world can and do inflict horrible pain on people. All one can do is bear up in whatever way possible.
I understand. I posted this because of the fear I have that our political divisions in this country are at a point where lines unthinkable in more rational times can easily be crossed. I hope we are better than that.