Tonderai Zendera
| Acquaintance Yesterday lingered in the fading mist of memoirs past. Tomorrow came fleeting on dark clouds of doubt. Dust, on shelves of mixed expressive recollections, gathered. Out of mystery and wonder life defined a new meaning. Rare moments from a friendship of chance radiate, shared with one who walked you to the door. Watched you disappear into the shadows and hoped to see you again. Held your hand silhouetted against the setting sun and found life timeless. Stood warmly with you by the window, on one winter’s day to gazed;’ snowflakes fall, and walked with you on the snowfields of white. Sat silently with you staring at nothing and still found life an enriching experience. Embraced at the last moment and bade you a tearless farewell. Always sees you on strangers’ faces, feels you in the walk of life; and hears you in the rhythm of familiar tunes that make her smile. Polluted Mind “Are there men and women in these iniquitous villages? Do the villagers have any ears, eyes and human feelings; Human Conscience? Their heart rending whimpers have since reached the ears of heaven. Did I see even on their children’s radiant faces, elation at the wantonness?” I remained dump, for fear that, I as human, stand to be judged, yet the voice persevered. “At those who lay beseeching for aid in vain against those who abruptly appointed themselves prosecutor, judge, jury and hangman. Who ultimately couldn’t raise their weak voices, and say brother or sister help me, in the sudden discovery, to their dismay that they were sacrificial sheep. Who will rise up to give a voice to those that perished at the hands of their fellow men? At this abominable moment, who will stand up to defend natural rights?” The voice then instructed, “Cry out to the rest of the earth without favor and break the grotesque news of this sadistic ruinous work”. And I heard all forms of media bubble forth with the factual rumor. The echoes possessed mankind and send it into trances of censure. The voice further rationalized, “I sought eyewitnesses before whose eyes the brutish manslaughter happened. Birds of the heavens have pleaded powerlessness and have since flown away to tell. Crimson colored and saturated rocks, thirsty machetes, burning tires and hydro carbons have pleaded just being vessels and have spared no detail. Blood and gore covered sons of man have pleaded poverty and unrepentantly still chant calamity. Yet, I don’t see any deceased wealthy person?” Face down and down cast, I felt very insignificant as the voice continued. “Let the sprawling villages across Africa hear the deceased’s final pleas for mercy. And how, for the record, their flowing innocent blood sought sanctuary in the dusty streets of Alexandra and their remains yearned for the ferocious fires in the villages”. I had uproars across contagious frontiers and distant nations. Somewhere further a field, heartbroken mothers wept, children and wives wailed. “If on the citadel of the heavens sits a credible judge,” interjected the voice,” will He not eventually weigh the architects’ perverted hearts? In that judgment, will the hard of sight, of speech and of hearing not bear witness? Should they fail, will not representatives of the wild dogs of the Gonarezhou,the black mambas of Inhambane Province, the lions of the Serengeti, the spotted hyenas of Goma forests, the fierce sharks of the coastal western and eastern waters of Africa take, one after the other to the witness podium?” Though spell bound, I had some idea of what the long arm of justice really meant. Yet, I remained speechless. The questions resumed, “Will they not also, on that day divulge the unsettling meanings of these metaphors the rapes, the murders, these unbounded freedoms? Does the greatest equalizer, sooner or later not pay the families of the guilty visits? Does what go around not come around? Will those who freely choose to play with rocks not also parish by pelting? Doesn’t posterity for these villages tell of untold anguish?” Don’t they see that you are under the same judgment? I stuttered and heard my tiny foreign voice reply, ” If only man had hindsight, he would not dig a snare in which he would fall and curse his mother. I stand to be reproached and corrected, for I too have been tried, found iniquitous for running away from persecution. Allow me please only one question”, Said I, as I paused to check my hoarse and shaky voice. “Is there, under the azure expansive firmament of these southern parts, a place for real peace?” |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Tonderai Zendera holds a Master of Science degree in International Relations
earned at the University of Zimbabwe. He received a poetry award from
International Society of Poets in the Spring of 2002.
earned at the University of Zimbabwe. He received a poetry award from
International Society of Poets in the Spring of 2002.