OUR nation stands upon the sacrifices and courage of countless men and women who gave up their youth, comfort, and, in some cases, their lives for the promise of a free land. The conferment of national hero status on two towering figures — Retired Brigadier-General Victor Rungani and former Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) director Cde Walter Basopo — offers a poignant moment to reflect not only on their remarkable contributions to the liberation struggle and nation-building but also on the urgent necessity of capturing these stories while our heroes still breathe. They have been honoured as national heroes because their peers know their outstanding contibutions to the liberation of Zimbabwe which many of us do not know. History is not only what we record; it is also what we choose to remember and honour. It is carved not just into stone at national shrines, but etched into our collective memory by the stories we tell and the legacies we preserve.

The lives of Brig-Gen Rungani and Cde Basopo are rich with lessons, sacrifices, and determination that can inspire generations and it would have been beautiful to document them while their voices could still be heard. Born on June 28, 1949, in Bikita, BrigGen Rungani was the product of a humble rural upbringing. From Zimuto Secondary School to Luveve Secondary in Bulawayo, his academic path mirrored that of many young Zimbabweans who desired more yet were denied by the repressive colonial regime. By 1971, he had moved to Salisbury (now Harare), immersing himself in youth politics through the Zimbabwe Youth Centre in Highfield. These were formative years, the kind that shape a man’s destiny. His decision to join the liberation struggle in 1975 was a profound moral calling to liberate a people shackled by colonial rule. His journey took him to Mozambique, where at Chimoio’s Mapinduzi Military Camp, he trained as a guerrilla fighter. His tactical brilliance was soon evident, leading to his appointment as provincial director of transport for Manica. But Brig-Gen Rungani was more than a soldier. He was a strategist, a visionary who saw beyond war to the need for building a self-reliant Zimbabwe.

After independence, he continued to serve, helping shape the engineering backbone of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces (ZDF). Later, he became a successful farmer and businessman, embodying the ideal that the war veteran must not only fight for liberation but help rebuild the nation. What a story we could have got from him sharing his experiences! Cde Walter Basopo, known during the war as Gerry Dzasukwa, was born on February 23, 1959, in Gutu District, Masvingo. He too took the long, painful road to liberation. After attending Mzingwane Secondary School, he joined the struggle in June 1976 and received training at Tembwe Camp. He was not just another young man with a rifle; he was a soldier for justice, who fought in the bush with the ZANLA forces before being deployed to the critical security department in Manica Province. After independence, Cde Basopo served with distinction in the CIO, rising through the ranks due to his deep understanding of statecraft and national security. He was a guardian of the republic, operating in the shadows, yet his impact on the stability and security of the State was profound.

These men were not mythical giants. They were sons, fathers, brothers, neighbours — flesh-and-blood Zimbabweans who answered a call far greater than themselves. They gave their youth to the revolution, and their maturity to building and protecting the hard-won freedoms of Zimbabwe. And their stories are fascinating, we want them, we need them. The tragedy of our time is not just the death of heroes, but the burial of their legacies beneath the soil of silence. BrigGen Rungani and Cde Basopo were honoured after death, but they walked among us unsung, unknown and uncelebrated.

It is an indictment on our generation if we fail to document these narratives while their owners still breathe. Their voices can guide us, not only in understanding where we come from but also in navigating where we are going. The liberation struggle was not just about guns and battles; it was also about vision, sacrifice, hope, and the dream of a better Zimbabwe. These values are more needed today than ever. Capturing their stories is more than history; it is heritage. It is the architecture of national consciousness. In the voices of our heroes lie solutions to many of our social ills. Imagine a student discouraged by economic hardship reading about a barefooted teenager who crossed into Mozambique and returned a national commander. Or a young civil servant inspired by a tale of someone who once dug trenches by day and strategised by night, later becoming a protector of the state. In these stories lie answers to questions of national identity and duty.

We must write books, produce documentaries, make films, conduct interviews, and publish memoirs. Our universities must create oral history projects. Our schools should host veterans as guest lecturers. The Ministry of Information and the Department of National Archives must lead this drive. Every village has a hero; every township ship, a story. And yet we let time and death erase them. It should not take a funeral to learn of a hero’s journey.

We need to institutionalise honouring our veterans while they are alive. Let us build Heroes Museums in all the country’s 10 provinces. Let us digitise their voices. Let us name roads, bridges, and schools after them, not just those in Harare but across the country. The legacy of Brig-Gen Rungani, who merged military service with entrepreneurial acumen, should inspire young entrepreneurs. The dedication of Cde Basopo, whose security work demanded anonymity but ensured national peace, should encourage young professionals to serve quietly but effectively.

Imagine a film called ‘Gerry Dzasukwa: Guardian of the Struggle’ or a biography titled ‘Victor Rungani: From the Trenches to Tractors’. These are not just titles; they are blueprints of possibility for future generations. We are the custodians of memory. Let us not be found wanting. To the families of Brig-Gen Rungani and Cde Basopo, the nation owes you more than condolences. Zimbabwe owes you a pledge, to keep their stories alive. To the youth, the task is: ask questions, seek knowledge, honour the elders in your communities. The war was fought not to be forgotten, but to be learned from.

As we stand beneath the fading echo of the last gunshots of liberation, may we raise our pens, cameras, microphones, and voices to ensure that our heroes’ battles, dreams, and lives were not in vain. Zimbabwe owes it to itself to remember. And in remembering, to rise. Time will take our heroes but it should not erase them.