Escape

ESCAPE

A tale beyond me irrevocably has to live but undoubtedly to be understood it requires utter soberness of heart and mind. We be paragons of sobriety in sanitizing the mess I confront days on end. A unique confluence of circumstances led me to a realization of the usurpation of a future from the folk I love and those I call mine at hand. Life in the high density suburbs of this nation. Affectionately, we have appreciated them as the Ghettos. Blessings and love.

Album after album and single after single Wallace Chirumiko synonymed Winky D brings light to realities confronted on the hallowed grounds of the ghetto society. Deep his meditations are. True they have evidenced themselves. Listen to Robots, Parliament, Simba, Mafirakureva, Njema and Ijipita to mention but a few. Asterisk Parliament especially. True is his advocacy.

A unique confluence of circumstance encountered daily by the ghetto folk itself serves well to attest to a future being usurped by the deceptions cloaked in hardships or bid to Escape them thereof. Some do ESCAPE physically once they make it but some try to escape to the world of schizophrenia aided by an unending stock of addictions

It seems inculcation of the original owners of those societies has fast escaped into thin air. For they prior to owning homes in these areas, had sacrificed their hearts to hard work. Standard bearers of hard work they were. Did they fail the heirs to their homes? Partly it is the case but excruciatingly the new world order asks of creativity on our part not only hard work. On that score, the current ghetto folk have let the nation down. Beyond a shadow of doubt I do understand we do lack a ruthless objectivity in assessing our flaws of age and most understandably a realistic appraisal of ourselves. For this nation with the soil we took and the entirety of the world only has toil, sweat, and blood to offer as sure ingredients of survival, success and ultimately an economic boom. I often hear mantras, “Our leaders let us down, our leaders……..” and God knows what else did that but who leads your future. Is that not a personal willful desire?

I do concede though, the levels of destitution and hardship are by a long shot unparalleled and unbearable. Look at the daily basic meal. People have become sworn vegetarians not by will but sheer circumstance. Basic meals betray a lack of clue of what tomorrow holds evidently. It hurts but it does not end there. We up the ante as a people.

Trot your way to bus termini. The filth, the vulgar you name it. The unuttered alteration of pricing scales. It all defines how as a people we fail ourselves. Gaining at the expense of your compatriot. It should be embarrassing to call yourself wealthy in such downtrodden and human demeaning society. And what we all do is hope to Escape. We fail to advance that which is good for ourselves. A commuter capable of carrying 15 passengers extends to 27. Are we honestly being real? Do we still have to blame our so called leaders again?

From the early onset as young we are we take to the streets in joy not knowing we risk the reality of shrinking and engulfing our creativity and future muChikweshe. For honestly how do you explain a school that cannot equip you to compete with the best on the table of excellence? The lack of facility renders young souls redundant at sport. How do you explain one paying monthly rates and never receiving service even in one of the months all year? Your heart will surely jab inside when you configure the reality of the long, winding fuel queue. Maybe you just want to buy 5 liters of the precious liquid yet you wait half a day. Talk of sky rocketing prices. ZINWA and ZESA rationing only seem to appear to us alone. Imagine the urge to Escape.

Yet still the ghetto folk call themselves entrepreneurially savvy when all they think of is erecting a vegetable stall. I am not disregarding effort but is it all the best we can offer as a people? Maybe it is a lack of education on the essence of investing. Investing in the real stocks and monetizing the worth of the likes of Mbare musika into a regional Veg Hub. Investing in company shares. Does the word Savings even flicker in our shrinks? Only this part of the country goes for years without sewer repairs as they burst all over to the utter dismay of faithful rate paying residents. Are we in the ghetto any lesser Zimbabweans? It’s just demeaning!

A flicker of hope always emerges in the form of our musicians. A silver lining they become. Talk of Tocky, Killer T, Enzo ishall, Blot, Jah Signal whom I grew up with, Winky D himself and Calaz. I even run the risk of leaving great ones out but they now seem the ceiling of achievement for the ghetto youth. That’s not all we have to offer. The nation comes to a halt when Knowledge Musona scores his sublimes or even when Khama Billiat lights the nation ablaze with fine awe-inspiring footwork. Should I talk of Peter Ndlovu from Makokoba or Benjani from Chegutu? All ghetto folk. Was it not Dzivarasekwa that gave us one Tendai Biti or my Kuwadzana that presented this nation with a contender for the national seatin Nelson Chamisa? Alas, when all acclaim is showered they bless the ghetto with their Escape. They take the resource out of the area it is needed the most upon hitting gold.

See for yourself the results that ensue. Our churches offer the only episode of true existence or maybe are just now a sanitized way of expressing that statement. Take to the streets and the view of prostitutes and at the shopping centers drains all the hope in your veins. Officers of the law receive bribes from individual homeowners for them to continue using their homes as illegal brothels. They dine with them. Uniformed forces sacrifice lawfulness on the altar of pleasure in broad day light. Turn to another street drunkards are all you see. What happened to the work ethic of our fathers who gave us the homes whose rent we squander? Heavily charging our tenants as if they are not our own folk. They turn to the Johnny Walkers, Castles, 2 Keys, Zambezi Dziva and drugs as the daily panacea to their daily obtaining circumstances. What does that really solve? Just in that they help them Escape. Escape to the unchartered grounds of schizophrenia. My father always told me, “If you cannot build a house like this you live in you are a failure in life.” Are we truly becoming failures? Failing ourselves.

Consequently we of the ghetto have become aggressors. Chronic aggression runs through our veins and some political stalwarts pounce on such and proclaim them their Electoral Political Manifestos. Offer solutions I beg of you.

I see hope nonetheless. I will take account of the love and harmony I see in the streets. The only hope we of the ghetto have. I hope it spills over to solutions, ingenuity, savings and ethics proffered for the betterment of our beloved ghetto.

As of now all they do either physically or in their schizophrenia induced minds is ESCAPE.

This is a short story written by Tatenda Mutengwa, a young, 19year-old Zimbabwean storyteller.