CHILDREN taught to be proud of their heritage will not disappoint.
In 1985, while I was in the US pursuing a Masters’ Degree in Curriculum Teaching and Learning Environments, I had to visit some schools as a practicum for my course in curriculum analysis.
In one school, I visited a Grade Four Social Studies class.
The teacher thought it was a good idea that I should begin by telling the children about where I come from; my country and its history.
I started talking about how the British came and took our country.
I could not get past this sentence as one of the children asked why we did not stop the British from coming into the country; why we did not fight them and drive them out.
They told me in their country they had fought and defeated the British and they were now independent and the British would never come back. It took some time for the children to be pacified.
Afterwards I continued with my story, and the moment I mentioned that we fought the British, the children were electrified.
They told me this is what we should have done in the first place, that we should never have allowed them to set foot in our land.
This was a Grade Four Social Studies class.
The American school curriculum had succeeded in two critical respects:
l American children would never know that the land they were calling theirs was not theirs, but they had taken it from the Indians at gunpoint, their land was in Europe, not in the Americas.
l They made the British an effective decoy from the real issue, that they robbed the Indians of their land.
They set up the British as the enemy whereas they were a contender for the land of the Indians, the same way the so-called Americans were after the land of the Indians.
They successfully concealed from the children that neither the British nor the Americans had any right to the land of the Indians.
They did it so well although the premise was false and evil.
Can we fail to build patriotism in our children when we have everything so noble to be proud of?
Can we fail to do something special for Zimbabwe; we who have no lies to tell, but the truth that is so great our children will be naturally drawn to it.
When you take the children to Chimoio, Dr Lazarus Dokora and they stand at the sacred shrine, let them understand that the soul of Zimbabwe refused to bow down to slavery, to such wicked injustice.
Let them know that children, like them, refused to live under bondage to the British armed robbers and for this reason, they too lie buried at this shrine because of love for their country Zimbabwe.
There is no greater history than this, there is nothing more to be proud of than this.
That they are Madzimbahwe okwaMambo, princes and princesses, descendants of a great ancient people, of the great kings of the Mutapa Dynasty, whom the Portuguese failed to destroy.
That the people of Zimbabwe have everything to be proud of.
They descend from a great dynasty intolerant of usurpers.
The Great Mutapas never ensconced with anyone until the Portuguese resorted to infiltrating them through a Catholic priest, Gonzalo da Silveira.
They discovered he was a spy and a homosexual.
No spy could be tolerated in the King’s court, but a homosexual was an anathema, something too evil in the religion of the land it would invite the wrath of the Great God, Musikavanhu by its presence among the people.
They had to destroy it or the great spirits of the land would not stand the abomination.
Whenever something does not work in this country, it is not because there is a problem with the people of this country, but because something has not been correctly done.
The people of this country have always risen to the challenge whenever their country needed them.
They have always been there for Zimbabwe.
King Lobengula never bowed to foreign rule.
He fought an enemy that was far too superior in weapons of war.
He sustained a bitter war against the white aggressors as best as his forces could, but in the face of extinction he wisely chose tactical retreat and indeed our people regrouped in 1896 and 1966 until independence in 1980.
Mbuya Nehanda never bowed down to the whiteman, challenging him to the last moment.
She spurned his temerity to tell her to ask for forgiveness from God for having fought them who had come to rob her of her land, retorting:
“It is not I who needs God’s forgiveness, but you who came and took my land.”
This is the mettle of Zimbabwe, the soul of Zimbabwe.
When the moment came after exhausting all efforts of talking to the whiteman and with the formation of ZAPU and ZANU, it was decided that the only avenue left to freedom was armed confrontation of the white robbers.
The children of Zimbabwe did not say ‘but they have war jets, they have machine guns, they have helicopters and what do we have’?
They said: ‘I am Zimbabwe’, and with nothing but the soul of Zimbabwe burning in them, they accepted the challenge to confront the military might of the colonisers to get their country back; a challenge they knew would demand the ultimate sacrifice, but they did not think twice about it — the way Mbuya Nehanda and her compatriots never thought twice about confronting the whiteman.
She never hesitated to the last moment, declaring that although they would kill her, ‘her bones shall rise’.
The famous ‘Chinhoyi Seven’ knew the military might of Rhodesia. They fought, knowing they would not win the battle, but they had to start somewhere.
They withstood the enemy bombardment the whole day, until one-by-one, they fell as they ran out of ammunition.
Such bravery is unparalleled; it is everything to be proud of.
Let the children know this.
Let the children cherish this and let them wear this badge of honour as Zimbabweans.
Let them know Mbuya Nehanda’s bones rose everywhere in Zimbabwe as her spirit spread like wildfire across this great land, beyond every hill and over the mountains.
Her daughters and sons took the submachine gun, the anti-aircraft gun, and said: ‘I am Zimbabwe’, and the guns blazed everywhere, the mothers cooked food, bought clothing for combatants, nursed the injured and protected the comrades with everything they had.
With their love, they sacrificed everything even unto death.
They were butchered, burned in their homes, incarcerated in ‘Keeps’, imprisoned and beheaded but they said: ‘I am Zimbabwe’ and fought until final victory.
The racists, as always, massacred thousands in Mozambique, Zambia and here at home, but they could not silence the masses.
Thus the people of Zimbabwe never failed to play their part.