‘By the rivers of Babylon,
There we were
When we remembered Zion
For they that held us captive
Asked us to sing them a song,
Sing us a song of Zion,
But how can we sing our song, in a foreign land, in a land of captivity…’

IT was late 1978, we were gathered at a base just outside Maputo and Cde Simon Muzenda, ZANU PF’s late Vice-President, addressed us.
He opened his address with the above verses from the Bible, that we were in exile because we were fighting for our land Zimbabwe, and as long as we were in exile we could not sing our song, we could not be who we were, princes and princesses of the land of Zimbabwe — we could not be what we were, heirs to the Zimbabwe throne, we could not be what we were about, we could not be in control of our destiny.
He was galvanising us to continue fighting because we could never be at peace until our land was free; until we had freed our land, ourselves; we could not sing our song as long as we were in exile as long as we were estranged from our home, Zimbabwe.
Children who flocked to the liberation struggle abandoned the comforts and consolations of home because they could not sing their song in a strange land.
Their motherland Zimbabwe had become a land of exile, it had become a land of Babylonian captivity; it had become Egypt, a land of slavery.
They abandoned home to end captivity so that once more they could sing their song in a land restored to them.
We did come home after 16 years of bitter armed struggle.
The children who had left home to join the struggle were ready for a new land, a new life; they had been schooled very differently from the way Egypt schooled all those in captivity.
They knew their history like the back of their hand; they knew who they were, where they had come from, why they had abandoned everything for the struggle.
They knew how to build a Zimbabwe which was a home for all.
They were triumphant freedom fighters when they landed at Nyamapanda Border Post in those lorries, which symbolised so much they had dreamt of — they had struggled for and hoped for.
They were put in Education with Production schools, (ZIMFEP schools) where they could continue with the education they had developed during the liberation war; an education rooted in their struggle for liberation, an education tailored to fulfil the goals of the liberation struggle by equipping them ideologically and technically to own and control the economy for no-one can be free when they do not control whether they eat or not, for that determines whether they live or not.
Thus they were involved in building their schools, growing their own food, making their own furniture as they had been practising in the liberation struggle.
They were organised into production units in which they engaged in the productive activity of their choice and also learned entrepreneurial skills; something was right, they were singing their song, they were at home.
Thus was established Chindunduma Primary and Secondary schools in Shamva, Rusununguko Secondary School in Bromley, Nkululeko Secondary School near Kwekwe, Mavhudzi Secondary School in Nyazura, George Silundika School and Fatima in Matabeleland.
In these schools, learning programmes were designed as during the liberation struggle; the way founding fathers of Zimbabwe had planned for the children of Zimbabwe during the liberation struggle.
When these schools were taken over by the Government in July 2004, they should have prospered even more because Education with Production is the baby of the Government of Zimbabwe born when both ZANU and ZAPU, through the first Minister of Education, Comrade Dzingai Mutumbuka, set up the Zimbabwe Foundation for Education with Production to protect, develop as well as implement the concept of education developed during the liberation struggle in both ZANU and ZAPU schools.
Also because Government has much greater resources than ZIMFEP could ever marshall, it was a great opportunity.
The idea was that this concept would be developed in pilot schools, after which they would then spread to the rest of the nation’s schools.
For this reason, the Government take-over of these schools should have been the commencement of the propagation of these revolutionary ideas to the rest of the nation’s schools.
Government had the opportunity to use them to demonstrate to the rest of the schools the model of education Zimbabwe had chosen; it did not happen.
Instead, the children in these schools stopped singing their song, though they were at home in a liberated Zimbabwe.
Three years ago, at the Mutare Book Fair, children from Mavhudzi Secondary School in Nyazura stopped by our stand, the ZIMFEP stand.
Seeing the ZIMFEP logo on their uniforms, I was excited.
I asked them what school they were from and when they said Mavhudzi Secondary School, I was even more excited.
Mavhudzi was one of the ZANU schools in Mozambique.
The other name for Matenje Base, across the river from Mavhudzi School was Mavhudzi Base II.
Thus all the history of education from the struggle was ensconced in this Nyazura school.
So I asked what the logo on their uniform meant — they had no clue.
I tried to explain to them. They were so far off from what I expected.
They listened alright but it was a sad moment for me, especially given the history and all that was meant to be achieved in education with production schools in Zimbabwe.
It was apparent education with production was long erased from the memory of the school, from Mavhudzi Secondary School.
Last week during the book fair in Harare Gardens, a group of schoolchildren stopped by our stand again, the ZIMFEP stand.
I could read Chindunduma Secondary School on the school badges on their uniforms and I was excited.
All the history came back again, Chindunduma! All the ZANU schools in Mozambique were ‘Chindunduma’ first and then the specific name, which is why the first school set up by these children from the struggle was Chindunduma in Shamva.
Chindunduma symbolises mavambo ehondo yedu yeChimurenga.
Children are the beginning of everything, so all our schools were zvindunduma.
So I said to these schoolchildren: “Oh! Your school has such a special history. Come let us take a photo together.”
We did and then we started discussing the history of their school; education with production and to my dismay, the children had no clue what the name of their school meant, where it came from. It was just another name — the whole history of this school had bypassed them.
Needless to say they do not practise education with production at the school; the children did not even know what the term meant.
It is tragic.
The children spent some time at the stand.
I told them the history of their school and showed them a picture from the book Schools in the Struggle taken from their school.
I talked about how schools in the struggle practised education with production.
They listened attentively but how much has been lost over the years, how much is still to be lost?
I had been playing Mathias Mhere’s ‘Chipostori’ in the background when the Chindunduma schoolchildren stopped by.
After they left, some of the lyrics from this piece kept nagging on my mind and it is all so true;
‘Patakabva Ijipita, rwendo takatangawo zvakanaka
Tikabva tapinda murenje, umu ndimo makatangirawo nyaya
Vana vaibarwa murenje ava ndivo vakashungurudza Moses…’
It is so true. When we came from exile, from the struggle, we were on course and all started well.
We set up our schools in which we practised all that we believed in, what was good for Zimbabwe, what was opposite to what the Rhodesian terrorists forced us to learn, but then on this most precious journey, on this revolutionary journey, we got to the desert and things fell apart.
Today they say tajamuka, which means they have lost it and they expect Zimbabwe to follow such lunacy!
They go by so many names, a tribe that has gone astray, born in the desert, ndivo vanoshungurudza Moses.
Like Esau, they are bent on selling their heritage for a bowl of soup.
They never went to the school of Zimbabwe; they went to the school of Rhodesia and they graduated with flying colours in this school of betrayal.
Their pre-occupation with selling the country back into captivity shows what disciplines they majored in, in this school of Rhodesia — signature yeumhondi hwaSmith. Ndivo vaya vakazvarwa murenje.
Tinoda Zimbabwe neupfumi hwayo hwose. Simuka Zimbabwe!