Bye Bye Mugabe

Bye Bye Mugabe

Dear Uncle Bob,
You do not know me.
You do not need to know me.
I am one of the millions of your fellow Zimbabweans you do not know, and so you do not care about us. But I have to let you know that you are forcing me to leave our beloved motherland.
I never thought it would come to this.
As Tuku sang, Moto Moto, fire is fire, and we don’t have to wait until we are engulfed in the flames before we shout there is fire on the mountain!
Did you know that a little kid and an old man were crushed to death in the stampede for bread today?
While your wife, graceless Grace is busy shopping at Harrods in London, we see nothing but empty shelves in our supermarkets in Zimbabwe, except in your Spar in the Borrowdale Brooke where you and your cronies and goons like Ray Kaukonde, the governor of Mashonaland East province feast on all the goodies you have stolen from us.
Magumo acho chii? How will it all end?
That I who sang and danced on stage with Bob Marley as he sang “Zimbabwe” on our glorious and victorious Independence Day, am now going on exile. Why?
You have turned our beautiful dream into a sorrowful nightmare.
Are you the same Uncle Bob I loved so much that I said I would name my first boy after you? I have since changed my mind, because you whom we thought were a blessing have become a curse.
I was shedding tears in my heart as I dug a grave for Mbira, a seven-year-old boy who had dreams of a brighter future. Dreams of becoming someone his family would be proud of. But your evils eclipsed his sun even before noon. You silenced the sound of Mbira. Thousands of mothers are burying the children they hoped would grow up to comfort them in old age. Thousands of shallow graves dot the landscape of Zimbabwe, from Mashonaland to Matabeland. I know you know how the heart bleeds when the bereaved wallow in sorrow, because you lost your own baby boy decades ago and lost our beloved Aunty Sally not quite long ago. I know that the bosom of your graceless Grace has provided little comfort for your troubled soul, for she does not have the milk of human kindness and without kindness, there can be only sadness and no happiness. We can no longer bear the sadness in Zimbabwe, because this is not what you promised us on Independence Day.
Uncle Bob, you have broken your promise and yet you do not feel any remorse.
But as Tuku also asked Magumo acho chii?
How will it all end?
I cannot leave without saying goodbye to you, because I may not see you when I return.
So, Bye-bye Uncle Bob.