Rob Strobel (yettieone on Twitter, and here's the direct link to his blog and the post)wrote a great post on Zimbabweans, and has kindly allowed me to host it here. The text follows below:
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It is a well known, but little talked about fact that Zimbabweans worldwide are among some of the most educated and respected people in their individual fields. The Zimbabwean education system was once the pride of Africa, and most certainly one of the highest standards throughout the modern world, so it is without surprise that you frequently hear of Zimbabweans making tracks in their own respective industries.
It is somewhat sad then to see how little regard is given to those Zimbabweans who achieve so much behind the scenes. It is only when someone has gained approval and won awards that thrust them into the lime light of society that there is a scramble to associate with them and be seen as the trend setters in the presence of great people. Sometimes I feel there are times when we should stop and regard the hard work of our people and give praise where praise is due.
Recently I was inspired to think along these lines while reading on the BBC website of a Zimbabwean senior nurse and lecturer from the University of Wolverhampton. Moses Murandu has spent many years working hard to achieve a Masters degree in Medical Sciences and has worked in Africa, the US and the UK in his field. A respected member of the NHS staff at Selly Oak Hospital, Moses has taken the humble remedies that his father taught him as a child, and won recognition and funding for an in depth study of the effects of Sugar on open wounds.
It sounds fantastical and slightly weird to consider applying sugar granules to an open wound and then bandage it to promote healing, but from his experiences as a child he knew from his father’s treatment of a cut on his own leg that sugar helped reduce the pain and promoted healing. When laughed aside by his colleagues within the NHS, Moses stuck to his guns, funding the first six months of his research himself as he doggedly fought to get his results noticed.
Moses Murandu has finally been awarded the prestigious Fondation Le Lous Scientific Research Innovation Award. He has secured a further £25,000 in funding to continue his work, and believes that he has proved that the simple, cost effective remedies that Zimbabwean Medical personal know of, and have used successfully in the African theatre of operation, can be used to radically alter practice within the NHS, improve healing times in large scale operations, and cut costs drastically.
It is this dedication and commitment to producing results that has put many Zimbabweans at the heart of research and technological advancements that are changing the face of our world today. But very often these people pass us by without acknowledgement of their achievement and commitment to their role in society. It is through them that you will find that anywhere you travel in the world, Zimbabweans are regarded as the hardest working, most well educated work force in the world. Zimbabwean medical staff are sort after all over the world. Zimbabwean teachers are welcomed with open arms in almost any country throughout the globe. Engineers from Zimbabwe are hard at work on projects from China to South America. This is just the story of one of Zimbabwe’s success stories. There are countless others and I’d like to make it known that if you are a Zimbabwean, or know of a Zimbabwean that you feel should be credited with the work they achieve in their skill set and field of influence then write to me and I’ll be happy to profile that individual so that we can begin to appreciate our national pride throughout the world. Lets join together in acknowledging those within our society that bring credit and success to the Zimbabwean name. Lets tell the world of our achievements and let’s not be shy to praise those among us that make us proud to call ourselves Zimbabwean.
Guest Post- Rob Strobel: Even Zimbabwe can teach the 1st World a thing or two!
Posted by shona tigerBrethren and sistren in Christ, it would be very remiss of me not to point you to these excellent resources, available over at the Boundless webzine: The Girl's Guide to Marrying Well (pdf) and The Guy's Guide to Marrying well I have read only the girl's guide, admittedly, but I know the guy's guide will be as good- solid teaching, and it helps to make sense of the minefield of Christian singleness and dating. I'm telling you, I cannot recommend the Girl's Guide enough! Happy learning!
Bulawayo is abuzz again (and those who know will tell you that if Bulawayo is alive, then things must really be better, lol). Buildings are getting their first lick of paint in ten years. Every second shop is a supermarket. We even spot the occasional tourist. Everyone is complaining about the exchange rates- most people earn their salary in US dollars, but everything is priced in rand (except utility bills)- and when we first switched to foreign currency, the rate of the rand to the dollar was 10:1. Now it's 8 or 7.5:1- which means that salaries have actually been eroded (since almost no one is getting a raise at the minute). Most people seem to want us to switch completely to the dollar -which, to my mind, would be a nightmare. I am campaigning for the rand, myself.
Things are very upbeat on the street, if people have rather got used to griping... No one will tell you they are happier now that they can eat normally but believe me, they are :) Bigger things are still an issue- like power supply- but I know a few people who have even been able to buy cars in the last few months, something that had become completely impossible for most. I imagine the struggle is still uphill, but we're getting somewhere on the ground, if not exactly in government.
Image: flower seller at work at the City hall, Bulawayo.
Dear Friends
The Plan has sort of gone into hibernation, partly because my life has become pretty busy, but also because we felt the need for a feeding programme such as the one we had, had fallen away. However, the last person we gave assistance to still needs help. Remember Mandla? I posted about him in my last post, and we managed to raise R800, which at the time was enough to pay a deposit and get him started at SAFRICOT, the Southern African Institute for Counselling and Therapy. I warned him that aid was difficult to secure, and that we would probably not be able to give any more towards his schooling, and I encouraged him to find other sources.
It's three months on, and he's been doing well at school; but he has failed to find any more money towards his fees. The Institute has allowed him to continue so far, understanding his situation, but he has become discouraged, and is thinking about quitting. He needs about R3 000 (about US$375 at the current rate) to complete the course. Any little bit will help, at this point, because he has absolutely no plan, and no one to look to for help. As I said before, his social situation is difficult, and he needs to be able to earn an income. Please, please assist if you can.
You can contact me on Twitter, fb, or by leaving a comment below.
This is Mandla. He is 28 years old, and lives with his grandmother. He used to repair typewriters, being "technically minded", as he puts it, and was with his last employer for five years.
In 2006, Mandla went blind.
It began with a headache which wouldn't go away. He eventually went to see a doctor, because he realised that he was starting to get blurred vision in his left eye. After tests, it was found that he had very little sight left in that eye. He had further medical investigations, and then an unsuccessful operation. During the course of the investigations, he found that he was also losing sight in the right eye. After many tests, the doctors told him there was nothing they could do. His vision continued to deteriorate, and now he cannot see at all.
Mandla left his job, and has been trying to secure financial aid to do a counselling course. It will cost him US$321, and he needs the money by May 6th at the latest, to be accepted into the class for this year. (The course is with the Southern African Institute for Counselling and Therapy, and they are willing to take him, and assist where necessary). He originally wanted to go to university to do psychology, an interest he developed after he lost his sight ("because I realise that people don't always know what to say to me", he says), but was unable to do so. This course will enable him to start earning money again, and also to regain some independence.
If you would like to know about him, or would like to help, please contact me on fb, twitter (see sidebar), by email, or by leaving a comment below. "Many hands make light work"- I'm sure that applies here, too.
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If there is one thing I heard over and over during the time of Zimbabwe’s worst economic troubles, it was, “How on earth are you surviving?” This from both Zimbabweans and foreigners. Inevitably the answer would be, “We make a plan”, because that’s the Zimbabwean way, and that’s what we have always done.
It’s a little hard to explain to an outsider. There are many who have said that if what happened to Zimbabwe had happened to any other country in southern Africa, the result would have been far worse. My personal opinion is that what happened to us was more than the result of the farm invasions and poor government policy. We became caught up in a perfect storm of post-independence euphoria and a certain lack of attention to warning signs, religious adherence to poorly crafted World Bank and IMF plans, and perhaps an over-reliance on one aspect of our economy- agriculture. Well before the farm invasions, the Zimbabwe dollar was showing signs of stress, and the drought years of the 1990s had already put pressure on our economy. I remember the worries of farmers in the 1990s, the talk of the national herd being depleted, and people wondering how on earth one could exchange Z$5 for US$1. Pretty funny to think about now.
It feels like we’ve “been sifted”. It is hard to imagine, looking back, how we ever survived the season that followed. I was one of those Zimbabweans who stayed (although I enjoyed a brief hiatus in Botswana, when I had left for personal reasons). The first hint of trouble stirring was when I was at the University of Zimbabwe, and the suppression of the usual demonstrations by students was becoming increasingly violent, leading eventually to the death of a student. We heard whispers then of a party being formed with worker’s union roots, and sure enough, just over a year later, the MDC was formed. In 1998 we had the bread riots, when Morgan Tsvangirai became a national voice, and those riots were the symptom of the economic mess that was coming…. Things went downhill from there- and it’s been ten years.
How did we survive? How did we survive the fuel queues which eventually went away when there was no fuel to be had anymore? How did we survive the stacks and stacks of cash which later being such a source of merriment, the “bricks” we carried around in such small denominations that we had to hand over a brick to get a loaf of bread- when we got bread? How did we manage the hours or days or weeks of power and water cuts? How did we manage the cash shortages, or the empty shelves at the supermarket which meant that there was no food to be had locally? Or how we have dealt with falling ill and going to hospital to find no drugs, no doctors, no nurses, no food, nothing but a bed?
We made a plan.
First we queued for ourselves and other people, and made jokes about fuel queues while we stood around in them and made new friends. Then we bought our fuel in Botswana or South Africa, eventually getting fuel traders- with tankers and small vans- to bring us our fuel in tankers or drums or 5-litre plastic containers. Cross-border traders- women who left their families to cross borders to Zambia or Botswana or South Africa stood in queues at service stations for us. We walked or cycled to work, come rain or shine. We drove at forty kilometres per hour to save fuel. We got the cash somehow, and haggled and converted and counted to a trillion in our heads, and bartered and stayed in business until we couldn’t anymore, then we tried a different business. Supermarkets sold tea leaves and sugar and jam, or nothing, but opened their doors day after day. Bread came and went, and changed in size (so standard didn’t mean the same thing from week to week), and the price changed daily when bread was to be had, and sometimes even when it wasn’t. We built fires to cook over, and went to people with boreholes to get water, or got generators. We used candles or battery-powered lamps for lighting, or we slept early. We learnt that even though there was no schedule to the water cuts, we could work our way around them by doing all our laundry when we heard the trickle into the water geyser. We learnt to boil or filter our drinking water, and not to keep too much meat in the house. We learnt to do all our shopping across borders- from perishable food to dry goods and clothing, and got quite handy with other people’s currencies. And we learnt to buy not just for our households, but for others, too. We didn’t “get sick” until the cholera outbreak, which was more illness than we could handle by staying at home and nursing ourselves back to health.
And through it all we griped when we couldn’t handle it anymore, or left the country to find something better, to send money back home; but mostly we just stayed put and made jokes about it, and managed somehow. We looked to extended family, and looked after each other. We had braais (barbeques) when we had meat, and let down our hair. We worked hard in between, knowing that if we didn’t, we might not eat the following day. We did without movies and the mall, and when we went out for coffee, we made do with whatever there was- tea, soft drinks, black coffee, a slice of cake or lemon meringue or whatever was on the menu. Sometimes it got hilarious; we went out to a pizza place one night, and all there was on the menu was a pizza base with tomato and garlic on it- like a marguerita pizza, but without cheese- no meat, no other vegetables. We laughed and ate.
I spoke to people in business who stayed open waiting for things to change, even though they couldn’t pay their staff. I talked to farmers who had had their farms taken away, and were now running a retail business, selling no name brand cleaning products, and earning a living that way. I spoke to factory workers who were going in to work once a week, and earned their salary in kind (whatever foodstuffs were available), rather than cash. I spoke to a woman who had travelled from Chivhu to Bulawayo for medical treatment (about three hours by road), because although there is a hospital there, there was no point in trying to get treatment there. As they shared their stories, I wondered about the thing about the Zimbabwean that made them deal with everything with such grace. Everyone struggled, but we managed somehow.
And our future? I believe in us, truly I do. If the same can-do attitude can be applied to the mammoth challenges facing us, we will recover. It may not even take as long as so many seem to think. Maybe it’s a matter of there being nowhere left to go but up; or perhaps just as with people, the national character had been strengthened by adversity. I do know this for sure: seeing how people tackled an impossible situation, and worked hard, and kept smiling, made me proud to be Zimbabwean.
A little belated- Independence Day being on April 18th- but it's a little like Zimbabweans calling it "Zimbabwe Day" online, rather than Independence Day: a little anti the idea of it, but still in the spirit of it :) I am totally enamoured of my country, and watching Going Nowhere Slowly, a travel programme on SABC, I felt that old pasion and pride stir up in me. The programme was filmed around the time reporters were getting arrested for filming (because of repressive media laws), when we couldn't make sense of our money (we still can't, but don't have it to worry about anymore, now that we use foreign currency for everything); and yet Zimbabwe shone, like the beautiful place it is. The tourists-cum-reporters came away amazed by the resilience of the people under phenomenally tough conditions, and totally stunned by the beauty of the land.
That's my Zimbabwe.
A friend wrote a post on Bill Gates's totally uncalled for and -I believe- totally misiniformed views on the future of my country, as expressed at a conference in Qatar, over at Open Letter to Bill Gates; please take the time to read it, and perhaps share it with friends. If no one else will believe in Zim's future, Zimbabweans do. I really believe that if the outside world doesn't want to help (or perhaps can't, with the chaos of the recession), we will do it ourselves, making a plan somehow- which is the Zimbabwean way. Watch and learn.
During the 2008 festive season, when things in Zimbabwe got markedly worse, we felt moved by God to mobilise a group of our (mostly Zimbabwean) friends to do what they could to give food for Christmas to those who otherwise would not have had any. Because most of our friends are in the Diaspora/ West, they felt well-placed to do so, with the only real challenge being how to get foreign currency across Zimbabwe's then iron borders.... With the help of money transfer agencies, or donations by relatives on their behalf, said friends raised some money to buy food packs for strangers. It was never really meant to be much more than a helping hand, acknowledging that the situation in Zim had prevented people with jobs from providing food for their families, and our initial target was three families. Happily, a little bit of forex went a long way in Zimbabwe (still does), and with a bit of courage and a fair bit of prayer, a total of nine people were given basic food packs (10 kg mealie or corn meal, 500 g beans, 750 ml cooking oil- pix above) for their families. And the group of friends came to be known as The Plan.
After a little discussion, it was decided that the method of distribution being used was not the best, and that there was a definite skewing in terms of recipients (easily explained by how the recipients were identified); and so it was decided that the focus could perhaps shift to children. There is a local organisation called Zimbabwe Parents of Handicapped Children Association (ZPHCA) which is, as it says, a group of parents who work in the community to assist other parents of handicapped children, and ensure that children with disabilities are cared for. Because they are community-based, they are well-placed to locate children with needs, whether with disabilities or not... And there are enough stories in Zimbabwe to weep over many times over. Children with disabilities, and AIDS orphans, have been made particularly vulnerable by the events of the last ten to fifteen years. In short, with factory closures and job losses, as well as the decline in income, many families have struggled to keep things together, and the problems are many and complex. Children with disabilities need so much more financially than children without disability, in terms of health care, cost of schooling, etc; and usually one parent cannot work so as to look after the child. AIDS orphans have tended to fall through the cracks as there have been problems with the social welfare system.
ZPHCA has started a day care centre in Luveve, a local township, where they look after children with disabilities- basically a place for them to do basic exercises, play and eat (and sometimes that food is the only food the children get). ZPHCA has received some funding and aid from various organisations, but the need is always greater than what actually comes in. I visited the centre (pix above); as you can see, everything is absolutely basic. ZPHCA also took me around to children in the community, and The Plan was able to donate basic food packs (which have now grown to include 10 kg mealie meal, 500 g beans, 750 ml oil, 100 g dried fish, 375 ml peanut butter, 1 kg salt, and 2 kg sugar- pix above). I am still amazed by how much can be done when people work together.
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I would like to make an appeal for a twenty-something year old guy called Mandla, who went blind about two years ago for unknown reasons (he had medical investigations which were inconclusive). He has been sitting at home since, unable to work, and at the moment is completely dependent on relatives. He would like to do a counselling course that costs USD321 (at the moment, but there is a little inflation still), equiv. roughly to R3 210; classes are due to start in May. This course would enable him to earn some income (and I believe he will be a great counsellor, having been through such a traumatic thing himself), and give him a positive future. I was very struck by his personality, and I would be grateful if someone out there would be able to help us help him.
If you would like any info, please leave a comment below with contact details, or email me at helpinghands dot zim at gmail dot com, or contact me on fb or twitter (see sidebar).
Edit Jun 18, '09: If you want to contact ZPHCA Bulawayo, please email them at:
zphcabyo@yahoo.com or zphca@netconnect.co.zw
A kind of book review: The Case for a Creator, by Lee Strobel. (Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan. 2004)
Posted by shona tiger
It’s been a while since I had a such a refreshing (fantastic) read. That’s principally because I rarely read intellectual material, much preferring Elle magazine. However, having had science training, I was hooked from about the second page; and because it deals with the subject of faith, it was a must-read for me.
I had an argument with an atheist acquaintance about two years ago that shook me, mainly because it made me angry that someone who was otherwise so rational could be so stubbornly narrow-minded about something so important. I came away incensed by the personal nature of the attack (or so I thought); but, after I had calmed down, I began to realize how much faith it takes to be an atheist, how atheism is just another kind of religion. Ardent atheists are just as vociferous as any fundamentalist (cf
Unfortunately, the trend of science towards evolution and therefore naturalism/ materialism has made out faith-based thinking or philosophy to be the narrow-minded side. Does knowing something intuitively make it less true? I've always wondered. I confess to also taking my faith on –well, faith, kind of thinking that science and faith would probably never mix easily- in spite of my own experience in science and the clinical world. I have had few days in my clinical practice when I am not overwhelmed again by how fearfully and wonderfully we are made… And when familiarity breeds contempt, I only have to explain anatomy or physiology to a questioning client to be overwhelmed again. And that’s just one aspect of my daily life… Even a beautiful sunrise can bring me to my knees…
So imagine my delight when I first watched Indescribable (of Louie Giglio and co), and how astonished I was by what the Hubble Space Telescope has revealed, and the staggering implications. The Case for a Creator takes it so much further; and by talking about the evidence first from a scientific point of view, and then discussing the implications,
I really could not elaborate on the content of this book; you just have to read it for yourself. I was really impressed with it; but I was completely bowled over by the truth that lies behind the discoveries laid out in the book. If the evidence is true- and the staggering odds of it not being true speak for themselves- then, like the Bible says, all nature declares the glory of God; but perhaps the Bible even understates the issue. And if I, as a Christian, am overwhelmed by what I discovered, I wonder how an atheist might respond.
Actually, I know the answer already- Dawkins, a highly trained zoologist at Oxford, is an atheist. And
Read it for yourself.
With everyone Twittering and facebooking away, I find myself increasingly seeking solace in my local email client, Thunderbird. I confess to being a latecomer to the game. I became a fan of Firefox very early on, after constant and increasingly ineffectual battles with IE... And when Firefox seemed to do what I asked without question, I became a firm Mozilla-phile. It took me a little longer to start using Sunbird: I did download and install it, but I proceeded to ignore it for the better part of two years, not being organized enough to use an organizer. Everything changed one day, when I wondered how different life would be if I typed my emails offline- and the rest, as they say, is history.
For those of us without broadband, and (to be honest) only a passing acquaintance with efficient dial-up, Thunderbird is like the answer to a thousand prayers. For a large part of this year (and we're only in April), I have not been able to access facebook, previously my gold standard for staying in touch with my friends- who, as part of the Zimbabwean Diaspora, are all over the world. (I do con them by letting my Twitter account talk to my facebook account, which gives the impression that I am active on fb). But you know as much as I appreciate Twitter, I just can't do it in 140 characters or less... Not to mention the fact that my uber-sad Zimbabwean friends tend not to be trendy, and fb is still the Next Big Thing for them; so it may be a while before Twitter catches on with them.
Nevertheless... I have found Thunderbird (-you sing that part). AND, and, it talks to gmail! I think my fb friends are wondering why I respond to their fb messages with an email to their email account, but that's what fb email notifications are for, right? I am spending far less time online now, and have happily gone back to circa-high school days, typing out my long missive and "sealing it with a kiss". (I confess, again, I have not actually achieved the long bit, and am only working on the missives now). And what better friend (You've got a friend in me/ Lean on me, etc) than Thunderbird. What with Lightning (like Sunbird) to seal the deal... Well, life is sweet. I mean really, I can even post this to blogger without waiting and waiting and waiting for blogger to load...I spent a few minutes this morning adding to Thunderbird's functionality with add-ons, and now I am wondering what to do with all the time I will save. Maybe revive my offline persona and lifestyle?
Now, if I can just figure out how to make my spreadsheets talk to Thunderbird (or Lightning)... And then I can go on a long holiday. Blisssss.
love
Originally uploaded by shona tiger
So I hope those of you arty types who visit my blog have headed over to doodlage (see side link)... I was the happy winner of something that someone said will only feed the obsession (too true), for this doodle (on Flickr). I do enjoy all things graphic, and this will only make me more of a nutter.... But that's a great site, so do visit.
Thank you RaShell, and YaelFran (over at Etsy) whose doodle coloring sheet I won. RaShell also sent me an extra little something something which got me even more excited... But enough of my self-exposure :)
I’ll give you the moral at the very beginning: do not share removable drives. Just don’t. Even when it’s necessary.
A friend asked me if they could come over and send a job application by email, saying that they had their CV on a disk. I want to look like a nice guy, so I said yes. As soon as I attached the flash disk, avast (my el cheapo antivirus programme) went haywire, flashing dire warnings about an AUTORUN.INF infection…
Oh NO, I thought, because I’ve heard all about the worm that appeared sometime towards the end of last year, and has cost millions, and Microsoft has even offered a reward to anyone who can give information leading to the apprehension of the perps. I had been counting myself lucky all along, because I didn’t necessarily trust my free antivirus programme (it’s wonderful, but it’s FREE, for crying out loud), and I do a lot of downloading, browsing a lot of graphics sites. However, I did my best with security: I always use a limited Windows profile for everything, rather than an administrator one, and I have Windows firewall up, as well as antivirus. I also generally don’t attach foreign flash disks.
Well, after all the warnings, I immediately disconnected the disk, and did a system scan, which showed- nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief, and went on for a few days. In fact, it was only when I connected my camera to transfer some pictures I’d taken that- you guessed it, AUTORUN.INF showed up again. This time apparently on my camera….
Apparently I HAD infected my machine, and now my camera was also infected. What was worse, this thing not only couldn’t be removed by faithful avast, it seemed to be spreading, because now a new infection showed up in my picture transfer folder. I disconnected my camera, and went online for help.
What transpired was at least 24 hours of battle. I found information initially at Trend Micro, where I downloaded a little script, but that didn’t work- not completely. So I went back and found
http://bleuken.i.ph/blogs/bleuken/2007/06/29/viruses-that-uses-autoruninf/
which told me a bit more about AUTORUN.INF, and possible ways to contain the infection, both on my machine, and infected removable drives. I went to work at the command prompt (making me nostalgic for pre-Windows days), and after maybe five tries (bear in mind that I am not a programmer), I thought I finally had it right. I also checked (as I could) my system files, to see if anything had changed, especially on the day of the original infection, and felt sure that nothing had. (Silly). I just wasn’t sure though, and with reason, because when I went back into my limited profile and attached my camera, autorun came again and there the infection was. So the next day I went online again, and found more information at
Ask Metafilter (XP Filter: I set up a non admin account for safer computing -- Am I safe enough now?)- sorry, lost the link, you’ll have to google it
which was sound advice about disabling autorun, the thing that starts up a flash disk or CD when you put it into your machine. Perfect- except, like I say, I run things as a limited user, which meant that I had to go to
http://nick.brown.free.fr/blog/2007/10/memory-stick-worms
(very good site!) to get information (specifically, a script to edit my registry) that allowed me to disable autorun for the machine, rather than just the user. I had tried to edit the registry as a limited user, and failed (whether because of the infection, or because a limited user cannot, I do not know… Still). Anyway, the second attempt to disable autorun worked. I also uninstalled the SONY software (hmm) that I had installed when I bought my camera, to transfer pictures to the computer. Advice: transfer your pictures the long way. Seriously. The pain is not worth it. After that, my computer even began to smile at me…
Still not quite satisfied, I went online again, and this time found HijackThis (at Trend Micro), which I then ran to see what was going on…. And guess what: apparently, something called sys32.exe was being autorun from my restore folder. Like a good Windows user, I had turned on system restore for all drives… And now when I checked, I found something that looked a lot like a recycle bin sitting in there, except it had been created on the day I got the original infection… AND I could not find any other restore points. Why would my computer create a restore point right then, I wondered? Where were the other restore points, the ones before that? And why was this thing being autorun from such a weird place? I looked up sys32.exe, and found some dodgy sites, but a google search seemed to confirm that this was suspicious software- so I went with my gut, turned off system restore, deleted the folder, and turned on system restore again- and created a restore point. I then used HijackThis (quaking as I did so) to delete the registry key that caused this programme to run (because I still couldn’t edit the registry), and then deleted all the other keys that seemed to have to do with sys32. I did a search, and found a sys32 PF, which I also deleted, hoping al the way that I wasn’t damaging my system. What reassured me a bit was that when I ran regedit as administrator, I couldn’t find the keys to do with sys32- so I assumed they weren’t essential, and had in fact been created by my limited profile. I also checked, and found the same folder in restore of my camera memory stick, so I deleted that as well.
I am sort of calm now, but I will be very vigilant, watching for any other weird things. I am also very aware that I am only a normal Windows user, rather than a tech buff, so I hope I haven’t made a mess of things… And also that I got all of it. So now I know three things:
- No more sharing of removable drives.
- Antivirus may not pick up an infection, especially if it masquerades as a system file.
- There are some evil people out there.
- We have the best climate in the world- ask anyone. Harare in particular is wonderful, but the whole of Zim is pretty lovely. No, I am not biased.
- We are really nice people. When you sit in a kombi (public transport), you can pour out your troubles and everyone will listen, perhaps laugh, usually have a kind word to say- no matter how pressing their own problems are. Strangers also smile and say hello. I love that.(Australians are nice too, incidentally).
- We are peace-loving. After all the troubles we have been through in the last ten years... Well, anything could have happened. That stuff happens in other African countries. Not to minimize the cases that have been in the world media so much, but we never thought to turn to arms to make our point.
- We know how to have fun. In the old days (pre-financial trouble), Christmas was a good excuse to party all night- with the whole neighbourhood. We know how to laugh, no matter what's going on around us. I think Zimbabwean jokes are among the best in the world. Maybe it's the weather, but anyone can have fun, at any time- and we do.
- We endure. I admire the businesspeople who’ve stayed, and stayed in business, in spite of how tough things have been. I love walking into the shops and seeing products made in Zimbabwe. I love seeing people “making a plan”- people who lost their jobs five years ago just finding a new way to stay in the game. I love that most Zimbabweans don’t sit around waiting for a handout, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. I love that we are a hopeful lot.
- I love that I don’t have to worry about the food I eat. Since just about everything we eat is organic, I don’t have to wonder if I’m getting cancer from my food… Or worry about being morbidly obese because of a reliance on takeaway food.
- I love that no matter what the stresses we live under look like to the outside world, we still live a relatively stress-free life. Our lives are real. When we are stressed out, it’s because we have no food in the house, or because we are sick. It’s not because we want that fancy new car, or because of credit card debt. Levity aside, the incidence of so-called lifestyle diseases is low, and as a result we are healthier even into our old age.
- I love the importance we place on extended family. One is never alone here. In times of trouble, there is always someone to turn to… And one in turn looks after others. I love that I will raise my children in community.
- I love the importance we place on respect for elders. I think it’s a good basis for stability in society. I love, too, knowing that I will not be placed in an old age home for the convenience of my family, because that’s not how we do things here.
- I love the way the rainy season comes. I love the way the dry heat builds up until it is almost unbearable, but then if you watch, every day you see storm clouds growing on the horizon… And then the first rains come with their drama- huge storm clouds, lightning, wind and the wonderful scent of rain mingling with dust… And then the storms that come at lunchtime and when you are about to leave the office after work, just to drench you. And then everything becomes green again, and it’s like the whole world is sighing with happy relief.
- I love seeing the farmers work in the fields. I love going up to Honde Valley in Nyanga, the way the road winds until you are sick with vertigo, and yet you are gasping with amazement because each turn reveals some pretty, secret, lush valley… I love standing on the mountainside where home is, and looking across to the tea estates near the border with Mozambique. I love getting up really early, on those tear-inducingly cold mornings in Honde Valley, when you see woodsmoke from a dozen fires drifting upwards to mingle with the mist.
- I love walking through the rain forest at Victoria Falls, getting drenched, and feeling like a child again… And then coming to a sudden clearing in the “jungle”, and there is the magnificent, me-shrinking majesty of the Falls. And all the other things- the hotels in Vic Falls and the excitement of being on holiday and ordering breakfast, the not-too-resorty “resortiness” of Vic Falls, the crocodile farm, watching the hippos swim at A’Zambezi River Lodge…
- I love taking road trips here, and taking in the vast expanses of savanna… I love how beautiful the countryside is, and how the space gives one a feeling of freedom. I love that even in the city, I don’t feel cramped. I love that one can own a few acres of open land even in the city.
- I love the pace of life here. Not even in the so-called fast-paced Harare is life truly fast-paced. I love that one still has time to stand and stare, and that work is never really frenetic.
- I love that we don’t really have crime here. Not compared with other countries, I mean. And when there is crime, it’s hardly ever violent. The incidents are so isolated that this is the exception, rather than the rule. I love that you can walk around during the day without worrying about someone pulling a gun on you. I love that you can drive around without being certain that someone will try to hijack you.
- I love how patriotic we get around sport- but usually only when our teams are winning. I remember going to a soccer match in Harare, and failing to get in because the stadium was packed. And how everyone was singing, and the feeling of pride in being Zimbabwean. I suppose this happens in other countries too… (grudgingly).. I love, too, going to watch cricket, whether at Harare Sports Club, or Queens in Bulawayo. The weather is always wonderful when cricket is on, and the atmosphere is fantastic.
- I love how Zimbabweans think a party- or fun- is synonymous with a braai (barbeque)
- I love the little places there are? were? in Harare, informal eating places like KwaMereki and Cresta Mbare, where one could get an excellent Zimbabwean meal- excellent value for your money. I love that one got to know about these places by word of mouth, and that everyone seemed to go to these places… So you would meet your friends and associates there. And that a lot of office workers would drive there at lunchtime, rather than to some fancy takeaway place… And the service at these places would be the envy of any catering business. And gradually the service would get personal, too, as you became a regular. I love that you never had to worry about the hygiene, because the hosts were at pains to make sure everything was perfect- just like home. I hope these places survive.
- I love township life. I love how when you play your radio, it’s so that the neighbours at the end of the line can hear every word. I love that everyone knows when you have bought a new fridge- even those who live ten roads down. I love that every home has a fruit tree in the front yard- and if you don’t have one, you can steal your neighbour’s fruit- doing them a favour, because otherwise the neighbourhood kids will. I love the fact that you can borrow a cup of sugar from your neighbour, or a teaspoon of salt- unless they started a rumor about you ten years ago, in which case you would rather go to the people two roads away. I love the general exodus to any cleared space as soon as the rains begin, to plant maize (corn), which you can be sure we’ll be eating like mad for four months.
- I love how we exaggerate. I love that nothing is small, especially when you tell a story. I love that everyone is a storyteller- you only have to watch a Zimbabwean, any Zimbabwean, for two minutes as they relate something, to know that. The gestures are huge, the voice is raised, and there is a great deal of poetic licence.
- I love that I can joke with policemen. I call them “chef” or “officer”, and watch them puff up with pride when I do. I love Zimbabwean in-jokes like that, the words and phrases that I can use to any Zimbawean that convey a wealth of meaning- words and phrases like “berial cheques”, “demonize”, Diaspora, and “under curatorship”. I love how we are about community, and every experience becomes a shared “Zimbabwean” thing.
- I don’t know how many of these things are particularly, or originally, Zimbabwean, but I love: Mazoe Orange, Buttercup Margarine, Sun Jam, Willards Custard, Colcom Cambridge Pork Sausages, Chimombe…. Zimbabweans will know what I mean. I love that we get homesick when we think about such things when we are far away.
- I love how public transport is never full here. There is always room for one more person on the bus or Kombi. I love (strangely enough) the “chicken” buses that take you to the rural areas, no longer with squawking chickens, but with squealing babies and sweating mothers, with blaring music and a shouting conductor, and a household’s complement of furniture on the roof. I also love how the informal bus stops gain a name that everyone knows them by- pa chibage (“by the mealies”, referring to where someone is selling roasted maize/ corn); pa ma gum tree (at the gum trees), pa musika (at the market), ekhoneni (at the corner), e mapostorini (where members of the Apostolic Faith meet or sell their wares). I love that the name may last even though landmarks change.
- I love the music… From the endlessly-repeated riffs and plaintive sound of the lead guitar in sungura, to the sort of Afro-jazz sound of Oliver Mtukudzi, to the vernacular choral music we sing at the Anglican church, that has the ability to move me so…
- I love how Zimbabweans in the Diaspora long for home. It must mean that there is something particularly special about this sort of teapot-shaped piece of earth.
Maybe we should use the digital version? The difference is only clear in digital pix, apparently... Certainly not in real life. If you don't count zeros, you may be in trouble..
Thinking about practical ways to help in Zimbabwe: if you would like to help (brainstorming stage), drop me a line! Comment, Twitter or Facebook.
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