The Sunday Mail
Cecilia Mupariwa
President Mugabe’s mother, Ambuya Bona, was my cousin. She was well-known in Kutama as she was a teacher of catechism who later became a midwife. The Mugabes’ house is adjacent to ours, and we have been neighbours for decades. I was still a child when President Mugabe was in his teens, and would see him in the village everyday and when he visited our home for family meetings or a meal.
Sometimes he visited “just to see how you are doing”.
A humble person, he herded cattle just like his peers.
He followed the tradition of nhimbe (community-assisted field work) with great enthusiasm because of his passion to help and see others succeed.
At one point, he built a kitchen hut at their home. He was pleased with this effort, so were many other villagers.
That kitchen still stands today as it means a lot to him. He could have destroyed it a long time ago but the fact that it is still there shows its significance to him.
He is one never to forget his roots.
So, that kitchen (pointing at it) tells a story of a consistent man, one who never shifts from what he holds dear even in the face of distractions.
The academic, nationalist
As we grew up, we got to know President Mugabe as academically brilliant. He was intelligent and everyone in the area knew Robert Mugabe. Many villagers always challenged their children to emulate Robert Mugabe, the sharp mind and shining example who excelled in his studies.
He, nevertheless, remained disciplined and humble despite such lofty praise.
Then he became a teacher at Kutama Mission.
Ambuya Bona believed her son could have risen to become principal were it not for his political consciousness.
Young Robert upheld the spirit of ubuntu and it was clear that he was special and far ahead of his peers.
He was under surveillance from colonial agents and was sometimes placed under police guard.
But he never missed an opportunity to visit for our usual family discussions even as police listened in.
He once told us that he had had enough of racial segregation and felt duty-bound to do something about it.
I’m glad the path he chose in his early days contributed to our Independence.
He is the same person, never forgetting us though he is President.
Family is close to his heart. He visits often and remembers to bring goodies, especially at Christmas. He has also empowered me greatly.
I was among the many women in Zvimba who received self-help projects training at Silveira Mission. The programme was President Mugabe’s brainchild.
I’m a widow, so the projects I’ve ventured into have really helped me fend for my children.
In addition, the President constructed an irrigation facility for the community to ensure all-year round farming.
I cherish the fact that President Mugabe comes home for major festivities, and always pays his condolences whenever there is a death in the family.
He leaves his motorcade behind and walks to our homesteads to pay his condolences.
He loves attending church services when he visits Kutama, making sure he shakes everyone’s hand afterwards.
Gushungo also loves John Howard Payne’s 19th Century classic “Home sweet home”, and has taught us the song.
It goes, “Mid Pleasures and palaces though I may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek thro’ the world, is ne’er met with elsewhere.
Home, home! Sweet, sweet home!
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.
“An exile from home, spendor dazzles in vain,
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again;
The birds singing gaily, that come at my call;
Give me them, with that peace of mind, dearer than all.
Chorus
“To thee, I’ll return, overburdened with care,
The heart’s dearest solace will smile on me there.
No more from that cottage again will I roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”
Ms Cecilia Mupariwa was speaking to The Sunday Mail’s Chief Reporter Kuda Bwititi in Zvimba on January 30, 2017
