BY midnight the entire village, except for the occasional hyena, owl or witch, had long retired to sleep.
Independence, for which so much violence and death had preceded, quietly came.
It was as if the silence symbolised new found peace.
We woke up to a bright and sunny April 18.
Quickly, I prepared myself for the Sadza trip.
When I got to the township, village heads were busy trying to put order on their subjects.
My friend Phillip was already there.
Everyone was anxious to catch the ride to Sadza Groth Point.
Eventually the transport came and off we went to the accompaniment of revolutionary songs.
On the lorry, someone had been up till late listening to proceedings from Rufaro Stadium, Harare, on radio.
He reported Rufaro Stadium had been full to capacity, beer and roast meat had been oversupplied and the Union Jack had been lowered for good.
Bob Marley had given an inspired historic performance.
We were all excited with the bit on beer and roast meat.
Meat was a rarity reserved for special holidays in the village.
Fortune was with us this time as two weeks before we had been having Easter festivities.
As we arrived at Sadza Growth Point, I imagined the Rufaro revellers trooping to their beds to catch up some day time sleep.
It being a Friday, Sadza did not disappoint.
It was a mini-town teeming with a sea of people.
I revisited my calculations with regards sadza and meat and was worried.
The official programme started.
It was more of speeches than entertainment.
Phillip and I sneaked away and went to Mazokera Store to play slug (mini soccer).
After we exhausted the coins he had, we just started wandering about the place.
In the crowd Phillip picked a dollar note and a wrist watch.
We kept the watch and with our new found note we decided to buy some Chibuku ‘shake shake’.
Fearing being exposed for juvenile delinquency, we took shelter in a nearby bush and drowned ourselves in the delight of this food and drink.
It was my first time but I enjoyed it.
Done with the Chibuku and feeling tipsy, we started to frantically look for our village mates.
The crowd had re-organised into smaller feeding groups.
We finally managed to locate our group.
They were a miserable lot.
Apparently our sabhuku had disappeared when it mattered most; distribution of meat.
Other accounts claimed sabhuku had surreptitiously disappeared with a cow forequarter… bandauko rese… that had been meant for the village.
Back in the village that evening the loud whispers were on the disappearance of the bandauko.
I had a tough time restraining Phillip who strongly felt sabhuku had to pay for his transgression.
The allegations were never proved but for most of the early 1980s, they stuck.
Thirty-seven years later, we will this year be gathered at Unyetu Business Centre for independence celebrations.
Sadly, my friend Phillip is no more, but the sabhuku is still the same, providing comic relief to the memory.
At least one beast will most certainly be slaughtered to be shared by all villages within our ward.
It will most likely be a donation from our National House of Assembly member or other aspiring candidate.
Village collections were done a couple of weeks ago but, at 50US cents per household, this will not be enough to buy a beast.
My last independence at Unyetu Business Centre was in 2014.
The lunch was the highlight.
No speeches unlike the 1980 ones that I and Phillip sneaked from at Sadza.
At family level it will be meat galore as well.
Our in-laws are visiting the village en masse for the first time during Easter.
Goats and roadrunners will have a torrid time.
And beer shall be generously supplied.
The in-laws will be left in no doubt as to the soundness of their daughter’s judgment.
Easter remains Zimbabwe’s longest holiday break, starting on a Friday and ending on a Monday.
Growing up as a fervent BCU follower in the Unyetu Methodist Hwisiri parish, I always looked forward to this holiday.
It is a sacred holiday when Christians remember Jesus’s death and resurrection.
On Good Friday eve we would stage the last supper under the twilight from paraffin lamps.
We all looked forward to playing Jesus or Peter or Pontius Pilate.
We frowned at being given the role of Judas.
A classmate once played the role so well that Judas stuck on him as a name.
The Judas character came back to hound him and by a twist of fate he did not survive the war.
But that is for another day.
Saturday evening was an all-night vigil, kurindira, waiting for the resurrection.
For this year, Easter will be a family feast with no opportunity to watch a last supper play or staying up for resurrection.
But the memory of Zekiya bringing fashion to sleepy Unyetu on holidays like Christmas, Easter and Rhodes and Founders will not be far off.
Zekiya was the fashion trendsetter in Unyetu.
I first saw a track suit outfit on him.
On that, many said it was a Mashonaland United (what later became Zimbabwe Saints) uniform.
Bell-bottoms and revolution trousers, bright and shiny shirts, horror or platform shoes; it was Zekiya who introduced them all to Unyetu.
It was said he was a thief in the then Salisbury (Harare) and Bulawayo.
Whatever his occupation was, he certainly brightened Easter in Unyetu.
This year Easter will disappear into independence.
By the Tuesday, many will have exhausted their last coins.
But with elections just a year away, I foresee generous meat and beer donations.
If not, this could just be the perfect time to remind the district of its forgotten heroes of the pre-Easter era.
These include Sango, Mutekedza, Bhonda and Maromo.
Sango was a son of Gwangwava of the Musarurwa line of the Rozvi.
He was in charge of a Rozvi Village at Chigara.
Chigara was already an important Mwari Shrine in Chikomba.
Bhonda was hosted by Sango and operated from these hills.
While most VaRozvi in Chikomba became collaborators for the whites with many joining whites in the fight at Somabula, Sango went against the grain.
He ended up commanding the famous Chigara stand.
Mutekedza, a Hera chief, worked with Bhonda in the 1890s.
The Hera people, like most Africans of this time, also had serious grievances against settler-rule and were also inspired by the Mashayamombe resistance.
Mutekedza was eventually captured at Makoshori, bringing to an end a gallant resistance.
Maromo was chief of the Maromo people, cousins of Mashayamombe people.
They rose against settlers in the 1890s.
When the Maromo resistance was eventually brought down, their chief escaped to Mashayamombe.
Happy Easter and Independence holidays!