“My guy, you’re the most eligible bachelor in Harare right now…” He was right. After all, I have “everything” I need to get “any” woman I want. 1) I don’t have a child (that I know of), 2) I am well-educated (thanks mom & dad) and 3) I work a decent job earning a reasonable salary (totenda Mwari!). 4) I even have my own car (I love my skoro-skoro). In comparison to the average male living in Harare, I am a hot commodity – apparently. I fear the bar is incredibly low…

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I’ve always thought of this blog as a relatively wholesome space, one that is meant for reflection and sharing cool and interesting stories from my life. I’ve strayed away as much as possible from narrating the wilder happenings that go on in my life because #digitalfootprint, and also because I have no business sharing my dirty laundry for the world to see. When my friend Geraldine mentioned that I should chronicle some of my nights out in Harare, my first reaction was no, I could never. But then again, this would be such a fun thing to do. Some funny shit has happened to me and the people in my circle. Some of it is so funny enough that it needs to be shared – for bants of course, nothing profound or anything like that.

So I stewed over it a bit, and then one day during my commute to work, an interesting thought came to my head. What if I wrote a book? It wouldn’t be anything long, just a collection of short stories (I don’t think I have the capacity for extended prose). And I could have creative liberties as far as the events of these stories are concerned, weaving together different timelines just to bring out how absurd adulting in Harare can be. I could title it, “The Most Eligible Bachelor in Harare…& Other Stories”. I even have titles for some of the stories (subject to change):

• Bed Bugs & Love Bites
• 3AM in Madokero
• The Dungeon & The Dragon
• Vakuru veFear
• Chishamiso
• The Most Eligible Bachelor in Harare

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Back in college when Tumblr was still a thing, I came across a blog which eventually became a book called “Tales Of An Unsuccessful Womanizer”. It was one of my favorite reads of the time, narrating a man’s complicated relationship with the fairer sex. The book eventually inspired the “Silly Stories of a Boy Struggling to Find Love” series of posts on this blog. Looks like I will write my own book soon…

“…if there’s anything I’ve learnt since I started this blog, it’s that plans don’t always work. And this isn’t in any way a ploy to discourage you from planning your life. This is just me stating facts from personal experience. Not all expectations can be met, neither can you predict the future…”

I’ve been rereading some of my older posts. Its surprising how reflective I used to be at such a young age. Some of the nuggets I used to shell out were really dope. Like the one above from a blog post I wrote 9 years ago. What is quite ironic is how I randomly landed on that particular post, especially with how my year is going, coming from last year. I needed to be reminded that I won’t always be in control, and how this isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, there’s no point in struggling, trying to swim against the current. It will eventually take you where you need to be…

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When my first contract with my employer “ended” in 2023, I found myself in a really awkward space. I didn’t have “anything” to do, but I kept going to the office, doing online courses and picking up random assignments in the hope of getting something more “permanent”. Projects weren’t coming by easily and the few opportunities that we encountered kept slipping through our fingers. I eventually got deployed to handle two of our government contracts which were, for all intents and purposes, failing. Whilst there was a bit (like, very very minute) of hope in some projects that we were developing internally, nothing was concrete. It was only when I took a trip to Vic Falls in late December that it looked like there was some sort of silver lining. Still, things were uncertain.

Then January 2024 came along, and with it, the New Parliament Access Roads Project. It was a breath of fresh air. I was going to be involved in one of the first projects in the New City, something I had “manifested” 6 months earlier without even realizing it. It is one of the highlights of my career, and a project that has brought about the most professional growth in me. In hindsight, it made up for what I thought I would be missing out on by not attending Cambridge. Actually, it convinced me that I didn’t actually need to go to grad school anytime soon, and that I’d learn more working in industry. I felt “alive” again. However, this was short-lived. When we finished work on the critical sections (those that mattered for the SADC summit), works had to go on pause due to “resource constraints”. I found myself saddled with my two failing projects, again . Trying to push these projects forward was like trying to drag Man Utd up the league table from 13th. I needed some sort of change. This wasn’t going to come easy though. The construction industry was in worse shape at this point, with the government struggling to pay contractors and platinum mines having scaled down their capital projects. Even if I wanted to, leaving my job for elsewhere within Zimbabwe would bring more of the same (if Liberty is reading this, he is probably thinking, “You know you can leave right?” – yes, I know).

So what would be my next move? I considered asking for a reassignment, but I figured, even if I did, where would I be assigned to? I was stuck. I needed to look at my situation from a different, more positive angle. The extra time I’d gain working on these “failing” projects would give me space to work on other personal projects and enterprises. For example, I could now work on trying to build upon Mai Makanaka’s brainchild, Soko Gin. I’d also get a chance to help out my dad with his consulting business and sustaining that. Lastly, this was my opportunity to close out my PDP with the CIOB and get my chartership sorted. This would be more than enough to keep my mind positively occupied. At least I could do something valuable for myself and my family. This was the plan for 2025.

I proceeded to move as I had planned, hitting a few stumbling blocks along the way, but still moving as intended. Then one day, after finishing a briefing with my boss, he mentioned that he had a quick discussion he wanted to have with me later. In my head, I was thinking it had something to do with his Masters dissertation, something he’d been consulting me over the past year. If it had been something to do with the projects I was working on, he would have mentioned it there and then. So I went about the rest of my day thinking there wasn’t much to contemplate. As we were about to knock-off, he called me outside for the discussion. It was then that he dropped the biggest plot twist of 2025. “Munya, if you have a girlfriend, maybe its time you considered ending things,” he said jokingly. I was so confused. Where was this even coming from? Eventually he spilt the beans. It turns out a contractor that we had previously worked with was on the verge of being awarded a long term contract in Zambia. They wanted our company involved. And guess who my boss thought was the perfect man for the assignment? Apparently me…

Pangu Ndapedza

Sylent Nqo recently released Huya, a song I had been anticipating since I heard a snippet 2 years ago. The song has a special place in my heart, mainly because of the memory I associate it with. I happened to be playing its first iteration when Makanaka took her first “big” steps, all of which happened to be captured on video. I’m glad I was present for this big moment in her life…

Dear Makanaka Lela

I feel especially honored to be writing this to you. Largely because, not only am I your uncle, but I am also your godfather. This means that I bear a huge responsibility towards your upbringing. And because of that, I feel like I have lots of important things I need to teach you, about life, about the world and how to be a good person. At least, I need to teach you how to treat others they way you’d like to be treated, and to teach you how to love yourself the way you deserve to be loved. That being said, we have a long road together, and I will make sure that I am present for you as much as I can.

Makanaka Lela – The Great Nurturer. I don’t know if you know this, but a lot of people wanted you to be named after your grandmother, Stanciah. I’m not surprised really, after all, she was the sweetest soul on the planet, and it would have been quite the honor for you to be named after her. Your parents however, felt differently and believed that you should have a name that is unique to you. Funny enough, even though they didn’t mean to, they ended up naming you after her anyways. This is because your grandmother was indeed a great nurturer. She is remembered by many in our family for her compassion, kindness and loving heart. Her unwavering spirit and passion for taking care of others are what made your grandmother a phenomenal woman. She is probably the biggest reason why a lot of people think of me as a “good” person. I really hope you grow up to be like her. I know your mother and father will try their best to raise you to be like her.

Welcome to the birth certificate gang!

Your Loving Uncle & Godfather

Munyaradzi Mark – The Comforter

One thing I am hyper-aware of is my mortality. Perhaps its the fact that one of my biggest fears is dying without having “accomplished” anything. It is this existential dread that led me to write my first letter to Mukundi. I was afraid that I would leave the earth without having met him, or at least having said the things that need to be said. And with that, I think the next set of letters is long overdue. After all, the litter of babies has tripled since then…

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Dear Munatsi Malachi,

I am sure you’re wondering why it has taken me so long to write this. I hope you’ll understand that I took a hiatus from writing over the past couple of years, and that words haven’t flowed as easily for me as they used to. That being said, it doesn’t mean that this letter hasn’t been on my mind. I’ve been stewing over it for a couple years. Moreso in the last couple of weeks. I remember the shock I had when I visited your mom in 2018. She had conveniently forgotten to inform me of her pregnancy (or maybe she did and I just wasn’t paying attention – anyways that doesn’t matter). It was exciting news. But you know who was even more excited? Your brother. Yes, Mukundi was the most excited of us all. And I can see why. The love you and your brother share is something that is special.

Munatsi Malachi – The Perfectionist. Quite the apt name I must say. You are perfect just the way you are. I hope you never change. The attention to detail that you have at your age is so cute that its inspiring. Seeing you work on your homework with such diligence is enough to make your parents smile every day. The way you care about me and the others you love brings tears to my eyes sometimes. Like when you walk into the room in the morning just to check if they’re doing okay. Honestly, I am a fan. A bigger fan of yours is your brother. I hope the two of you will continue to have each other’s backs. I am certain that he will have yours forever.

And please, take care of your mother for me. I know I don’t have to ask, but I will do so anyways.

Your Loving Uncle

Munyaradzi Mark – The Comforter

“So call my name, call my name like a ransom

Say my name, sing my name like an anthem

I’ll appear, out the air like a phantom

I’ll be there when you…

I’ll be there when you need me…” – KAMAUU, ANTHEM (2025)

I discovered Kamauu last year when I heard a snippet of “GARDEN” on Instagram. Since then, he’s become a mainstay on my playlists. His latest single, “ANTHEM” is a song I’ve had on repeat since I first heard the demo. I think its because of the subject matter of the song, and how it describes the type of partner I want to be. Last year, I took a crack at being that kind of lover, and I must say, it felt pretty good. I don’t see myself ever holding back on how I feel or acting on my feelings. At least, I know that’s not how I want to see myself doing things anymore…

Could we bring some of the Cloud 9 gang back together to do an acapella cover?….

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“So Mark, do you have a girlfriend now?” JC asked. “Nope, I’m single and still searching,” I responded, with a phrase that had become a catchphrase of mine since I heard it from Adib back in 2013. “Have you considered online dating?” Just the thought of it felt un-Zimbabwean. Little did I know that in less than a year I’d have downloaded a few online dating apps. Initially it was out of curiosity, but when my 9-5 led me to spend 5 days per week in the bundu, it became a necessity. I decided to take a crack at online dating.

It was a random Sunday in February, grey outside with a slight drizzle. I don’t remember what I was doing when the notification popped up on my screen. “You’ve got a match!” Because this was Bumble, I had to wait for her to make the first move. It wasn’t long before she sent a message. Her opening line was quite slick and pretty witty. My response equally matched her energy, and from there the banter was electric. I soon discovered that she lived in the next neighbourhood, which was a five minute drive from my house. How convenient was that? I didn’t waste any time. “Can I come see you?” She sent me her location pin. “I’ll be there in 5mins…” Little did I know that her house was tucked away in a maze. By the time I arrived at her gate, she was already standing outside. “You made me wait in the rain,” she grumbled, as she entered the car…

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Disclaimer: I’m telling this from my point of view, and how I remember events happening. While I may have forgotten a few important details from that relationship, I am 100% certain that I could never forget what happened during that weekend in December. Perhaps I was insensitive. Perhaps I handled things poorly. That I will have to admit. However, I will not gaslight myself into thinking that I didn’t see what I saw, or that I wasn’t justified in arriving at the conclusion I made…

We’d agreed the weekend prior that we’d attend Fiesta – a “cooler box event” where local artists get to perform live. A few of my friends were also planning to be there to see Tanto Wavie perform (Tanto had just broken onto the scene with TrapSu, an innovative blend of sungura and trap music). Our plan was pretty straight-forward – gate fees were $5 per person before 3pm (and double after), so I had to buy our drinks at 1.30pm, pick her up from her house at 2.30pm and we’d make it to the venue by 3.30pm. I texted her at 12.30pm just to confirm if we were on schedule (like the Project Manager I am 🙂 ). She told me that she was running a quick errand with her gogo, but she would be on time. Armed with this response, I proceeded to go about my day as planned. Considering I’d already told her what time I was arriving, I didn’t feel the need to call her before I left for her house. When I arrived, I rang, but she wasn’t picking up. I sent her a message, but she didn’t read it. I waited for 15 minutes, calling her every 3 minutes. She never picked up. Frustrated, I decided to head to the venue – I wasn’t about to let a discount pass me by. On my way there she texted, letting me know that her errand with gogo was running late. She would meet me there. I was annoyed but kept my chin up. After all, these things happen right?

I got my ticket and decided to wait for my friends who were also delayed (it was a Friday, and certain industries were still open). They only arrived at 5pm, and I still hadn’t heard a word from her. I decided to call again, a last ditch effort of sorts. This was my last chance – once I got inside, I’d never find her in the crowd. No answer. I figured she’d get in touch and explain why she’d stood me up. In any case, I decided to enjoy myself. The performances were really dope and Hillzy managed to steal the show that day. Afterwards, Ron and I proceeded to go to Habhana Lounge, a club which was hosting its opening that night. The amount of shisha we smoked that night was too much for my lungs to bear. The following morning I was wheezing, with a cough that just couldn’t go away.

She sent me a text that morning, explaining why she’d disappeared. Apparently her grandfather had passed and she was helping her grandma deal with all the associated logistics. I felt pretty bad, given everything she was going through. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” It was all I could say really. I decided to give her some space – in any case, I had plans to attend King Kandoro’s comedy show later that afternoon. I was also nursing myself from the cough and hangover combination I was dealing with. When it was time to go pick up my friends, the hangover had subsided, but the cough still persisted. I wasn’t gonna waste my ticket, so I masked up and went to pick up Ron & Tendi for the show.

Since we arrived at Tendi’s house early, we decided to chill for a bit before heading to the show. Whilst were waiting, I decided to view some of the Instagram stories that had come up. I saw that she had one, so I decided to view it, expecting an obituary of sorts to her late grandfather. What I saw not only shocked me, but had me confused. How can I describe it? It was far from what you’d expect from someone who’d just lost a loved one. She was pouting at the camera, full face beat on with a glass of bubbly in her hand. The white dress she was wearing had the most aggressive cleavage I’d ever seen (could’ve sworn it terminated at her belly button). It was giving “all white party on a fancy boat” than it was “funeral chic”. Maybe I was seeing things. I passed the phone to my friends, who also saw the things I saw. This wasn’t a “the dress is black and blue, not gold and white” type of moment…

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We swayed to the rhythm of the drums with our bodies held together tightly as the bass of the music reverberated in the open air. She turned around and stared, as if it was the first time she’d met me, carefully analyzing my face. In turn, I found myself mesmerized by the twinkle in her eyes and her beautiful smile, barely holding myself back from kissing her. “You’re actually really cute,” she said with a giggle, as she pursed her lips and adjusted her eyes to the lights which glimmered off the stage. In that moment, in my world, the sounds blaring from the speakers suddenly went mute and my eyes were fixed on her face, observing how her pretty her cheeks were draped by her black braids. I started to blush…

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“Why are we so secretive when it comes to dating?” It never made sense how we were never open and transparent with our parents as far as our dating lives are concerned. I soon learnt from my father that this wasn’t always the case. Back in the day, there was this thing referred to as “kushanya” – a dating exchange programme of sorts. Your partner would come stay with your family for a short period, about a week or so, as a way of getting to know them. Your family would also use this time to evaluate who he/she is as a person, what his/her background is as well as how well he/she contributes to household economics. It was meant to be an additional layer to help evaluate your relationship and ensure that you got a good match – or at least a partner you could actually build a family with. I was very surprised learning about this. So why was this practice discontinued? Apparently its because people started dating multiple partners at the same time. It was frowned upon to have multiple people come and “shanya” your home on the same day. No wonder the dating scene in Harare is the pits…

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Meeting someone’s circle of friends is a great way of getting to know who they are and evaluating their character. For me, its especially true considering how I believe myself to be a somewhat “atypical” individual. My background (family, educational and professional) has had me floating in so many different boxes, that I don’t think its easy to really pin down the type of person I am. The people I’ve built relationships with are diverse, and have experienced me as a person in so many different ways that I don’t think I could ever account for it all. Throughout my life I’ve had to straddle along many lines along the social divide, and making memories with different people across the years. Which is why I think it is important that any woman I seriously consider settling down with (and wants to get to know me) gets a chance to meet anyone who considers themselves as my friend. When Cobes and Brandy invited me to visit them in Cape Town during their honeymoon, I didn’t think twice about inviting her to come with me. After all, this was a golden opportunity – it was more than 7 years since I’d seen anyone I went to college with in the US. When I asked her to join me, she was a bit hesitant. It was quite understandable why considering we weren’t exactly “official”. I had to reassure her that this was simply an “exposure” trip and nothing more…

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“If you’re reading this, I just wanted to apologize for how I treated you. I know I made you feel used, like you were just an object meant for my self-gratification. I took advantage of the feelings you felt for me. I was immature and took out the pain I felt about what had happened with her on you. You didn’t deserve that. I am sorry for being toxic…“

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We were meant to go out that weekend, but had to cancel because her dad had made plans to visit their rural home that weekend. I was bummed because I’d already bought tickets, but hey, it was what it was. The network was pretty splotchy were she was and text messages took forever to get to her. In any case, she had planned to take an early morning bus back since she had work on Monday. I’d at least get to see her when she got back that afternoon.

She ended up taking the afternoon bus and only arrived in the evening. Her responses to my texts were slow, but I figured it was the fatigue from all the travel she’d been doing. I tried calling her when I thought she’d managed to settle down, only for her sister to answer the phone. “She can’t come to the phone right now, she’s in the bath.” Guess I’d try again later. My phone buzzed shortly afterwards. It was a text from her:

“I’ve been thinking over this weekend…I think we may have rushed into this. I do like you, but a relationship is a lot for me and looking at the months ahead so many things and changes will be happening in my life and I won’t be able to focus on our relationship. I don’t want it to always seem like I’m making one excuse after the other. You deserve so much better! I am so sorry to do this, but I have to end this”

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“Dive in my love and see (see)

Find that my love is true (true)

Divine timing because (cause)

I was looking for love (love)

The moment that you stole the room…” – ANTHEM

Pangu Ndapedza

I actually wrote this in December 2022 as an update for a friend I was struggling to find time to catch up with. Might add a few more updates to some of the stuff I shared considering another 2 years has gone by…

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“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be firing you guys?” *dead silence*. “I am going to the restroom for a bit to make sure I don’t crap myself when its my turn to present in this meeting (he was also in another online meeting during our meeting – doesn’t make sense, but these people will attend 2 meetings at the same time because well, time). When I return, you better have a good answer!” It was something we’d expected considering how things had turned out, who our client was, and what their reputation was like. When he returned from his potty break, my boss simply answered by saying, “You can ask the other members of the team if we are adding value. If they say we aren’t, you can go ahead and kick us off the project…”

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Its very difficult to figure out how to continue from where I left off. Its probably been 4-5 years since my last blog post, and to be quite frank, I’m not sure where to pickup from. Maybe I should start with the two years between 2021 and 2022. A lot has happened and I am sure people would find this period interesting

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On Work

I quit my insurance job in early 2021 because quite frankly, it was not good for me. The environment had grown toxic and I was straying away from my “purpose”. One example is how I found myself walking for 6 hours in bumblefuck Manicaland (I could’ve sworn the people living there thought the Chimurenga was still raging on) to do a simple 30 minute assessment. The amount of time I spent on what felt like meaningless work was just too much. The job was also changing me, making me more irritable, less jovial etc. To some extent, you could say it was making me depressed. Capping it all off was the fact that the pay was shit. There’s nothing worse than getting peanuts and being given a hard time about it. I may have learnt a lot there, but I couldn’t endure any longer.

So I left, did a six month virtual internship at an organization working on developing water infrastructure projects in Mozambique. It wasn’t much, but it was the sort of mental reset I needed. I guess its because I felt like I was adding value to an organization directly working on the MDGs. The whole experience was enlightening and probably deserves a blog post of its own (probably won’t come though lol). It was also quite serendipitous that at the end of this internship, I was called for a job interview – at my current organization (somewhere I had sent an unsolicited CV & cover letter 3 years prior, had been called for an interview after a year, but didn’t go to because I had already just accepted the insurance job and also because “professionalism” ). Its been a good ride at the new job so far, actually career defining. We’re currently fighting an uphill battle, but its the good kind this time around. I am now in a position to better define my career goals and the skills and competencies I need to develop going forward. And I think that’s the best thing I have gained.

Update – I’m still at the same company, 3 years later. I managed to secure a promotion, worked on the biggest project of my life and I’m still looking forward to the next big one 🙂

On Grad School

Its 0231hrs and I’ve just received an email confirming that my professor uploaded the final reference letter I needed. Apparently it turns out I wasn’t considered for finance last year because this particular reference was late. Basically, I didn’t stand a chance and was forced to wait. I guess this means I might actually go this time around (Yes, ndakazvitemba like that)…

I want to go back to school and get a Masters degree. I’m looking to do a programme that’s hybrid of sorts and mixes all the good stuff from engineering, policy, management, finance and sustainability – healthy academic potpourri. In 2020 I applied to Cambridge, UCL, TU Delft and got admitted, but didn’t have the finances to actually attend. This time round, I have a feeling I will actually get the funding I need to go. I have a better application, better CV, and my recommendations will be in on time. Lets see how this goes.

Update – I applied and got accepted to University of Cambridge (again), and even got invited for a scholarship interview. Unfortunately, I got sick on the day of the interview and didn’t perform to the best of my ability (I think). I have pivoted to focusing on getting my chartership with CIOB and possibly getting a certificate in Construction Law at some point. I don’t necessarily need the degree to do the things I want to do.

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On Romance

My 2021 Spotify Wrapped was dominated by Giveon – he’d just released Like I Want You, Stuck On You, Heartbreak Anniversary – I think you get the picture. Clearly I was going through some things lol. 2022 has been a bit different, I’ve made it a point to date more. I’m currently seeing this girl who is quite nice. She’s cute, has a dope personality and is fun to hang around. Despite this, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t it. Perhaps I’m just not in the mental space to take things forward. Maybe its just my hardened heart speaking, but I think I will have to take a step back at some point. But lets see what happens. I just hope I don’t become a villain in all this

Update – I need to explain everything from the past 3 years in post #117 Stories of A Silly Boy Struggling to Find Love – Part 3…

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On Life in General

Things are okay, not excellent, but okay. I’m privileged enough to be occupying a very comfortable space in this life. Things are tough out there.

I recently had a conversation with Isaac explaining how I named a playlist I am making on Spotify. He found it pretty clever and proceeded to send the following message:

I didn’t think much about it, after all, I have generally been uninspired for the last couple of years. However, I recently wrote a short story for Valentine’s Day (inspired by a TikTok video that stirred up some conversation on Twitter) following a challenge that I was given by Desnor. She’d mentioned during a call we had about how we’re losing “recipes” as far as articulating our thoughts and ideas are concerned, especially in our native languages. She wasn’t wrong. I’ve gone through a bout of writer’s block for the last 7-8 years. And considering how I haven’t written anything in Shona for so long, I figured it I’d try it out. Turns out, the story wasn’t half bad. There’s actually people who liked it…

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As an adult, my birthday isn’t a day I’ve really celebrated. Of course I’ve gone out for drinks here and there, but the level of fanfare typically associated with birthdays hasn’t been there. Perhaps its because of the memories I associate it with that have made me unable to fully appreciate a birthday. The good thing though is that my birthday has become something of a trigger when it comes to me reflecting and contemplating my future. This year feels quite consequential. The rollercoaster that was 2023-2024 took me places I never imagined I would be. It opened up doors beyond what I thought I could achieve, and perhaps this is the time to reconsider what my purpose is. I’m sure anyone who’s followed this blog knows just how much of a dreamer I am, and just how much I want to achieve on this earth. Having experienced some life, I feel like its time to reevaluate these dreams and actually put all the pieces together to see them through. I have come quite far over the years, building the skills that I need to eventually create a lasting impact on the world and leaving a legacy that goes beyond this blog. Its pretty exciting to think about, and I think maybe its time I start talking about it again.

So does this mean I am back to blogging? Maybe, I’m not so sure. My birthday is coming up soon so I’ve been thinking a lot. It doesn’t help that this month has not been going the way I planned. In any case, I will try to write as much as I can, whenever I can. After all, that is one of the ways I will be able to keep myself accountable this year.

Pangu Ndapedza

I listened intently to the radio as I rinsed the remaining plate in the sink and placed it on the drying rack. It was the first youth town hall held by a Zimbabwean president (at least in my experience) and I was curious to learn more about what ED had in store for the country. After the coup, it had felt like the winds of change were slowly drifting into Zimbabwe and finally, we were about to have a pragmatic and common-sense leader. The Q& A session followed his plenary delivery and youth from the audience were given the chance to ask the president anything. Of the questions asked, one particular exchange struck me as worrisome. ED asked, “What would you like for me to do?” to one of the audience members. The young man responded, “We would like you to let ministers accompany us to international forums when we represent the country”. *Cue baffled white guy gif* This sounded pretty ridiculous. This was the best he could think of? Of all the things he could ask the president to do for the country that was it? FFS man! I guess ndomayouthies acho -_-

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 Last month ALA celebrated its 10^th birthday. It was quite a momentous occasion for a school built to develop Africa’s next generation of leaders. Reaching 10 for an institution like that is not an easy feat. As I reflected on my experience there, the “power of youth” is one that comes to mind immediately. It is one of the pillars upon which the school was founded and one that arguably made it so appealing. It posits that youth will be the centre of Africa’s development in the future and it is arguably one of my biggest motivations to back home and work on Afritrove Milling. I believe that if there is ever a time I can do something for the better, it’s now. The longer I wait and the older I get, the less likely will I be inclined to take risks. If anything, this is the best time for me to learn what it takes to become an entrepreneur through practice. This has been the mindset that has guided me for a while now.

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The military intervention in November ushered in hope to a people who’d gone through the most after years of misrule. After having gone the last couple of decades under a president who simply didn’t care about anyone but himself, it was only natural for the entire populace to celebrate the possibility of the country rising from the ashes. Everyone had had enough. People went out in their numbers to march for Bob’s resignation and the euphoria that accompanied everyone was something I had never seen in my life. The whole ordeal was a roller-coaster of every emotion imaginable on this earth. Nothing could match the level of optimism that occurred in November and the anticipation for some sort of change. But months later a lot of people feel disillusioned. Months ago, it felt like removing Mugabe was the instant panacea to the problems bedeviling the country. It wasn’t. Problems that felt like they could be solved within 100 days now feel insurmountable. The feeling that we are backsliding into the doldrums again has never been so glaring. People feel let down and have started complaining on Twitter again. It’s like nothing has changed.

I feel like the missing link in all this has been us, the people. We’ve ultimately been the cause of our own problems and will ultimately be the solution. I feel like we haven’t changed our modus operandi since the coup and there hasn’t been a concerted effort by every citizen to change how we approach our problems. For years we’ve expected the government to deliver us from our problems, only to be disappointed every time they fail. We’ve become so conditioned over the years to live life on the edge that we haven’t learnt to think of the long term. Our people are so broken that every discussion turns into a verbal confrontation that lacks objectivity. We are so quick to judge and label a person before listening to the substance of what they have to say. We can’t see the merits of the other side’s argument and we haven’t learnt how to improve an idea that we disagree with. To put it bluntly, we suck at working together to solve problems. And it’s our job to fix this. What worries me the most about this though, is the ability of young people to do so. While I do genuinely believe that young people have the energy and drive to solve some of society’s biggest challenges, I’ve recently found myself questioning this assertion on the daily. As a collective, we’ve done very little to apply ourselves to solve the challenges in front of us. We’ve handed over our personal responsibilities to politicians and activists instead of taking the bull by the horns and drafting solutions. We complain about our government but we don’t make an effort to understand how it works and identify the areas that can be improved. We always fall short when it comes to solutions. Sadly, this isn’t our fault. The last 18 years or so hasn’t been the most nurturing, especially during the hyperinflation era. All we know is hustling. But we need to start moving past that. We need to start applying ourselves to learning more about our environment and how we can have an impact, regardless of how small it can be. Only then can things change.

This is why I’m considering setting up a new blog called The Smart Monkey’s Blog as a way for me to document some of my thoughts on how individuals and groups of young people can effect change.  It seems like a great opportunity for me to go through the exercise of creating solutions to some of the little things that bug me as opposed to constantly ranting about them on Twitter. I hope that the blog is also a good way to shift conversations away from being argumentative towards being collaborative. Tinosvika kupi tichingotukana nhai?

Pangu Ndapedza

I’m a bit rusty. My writing has been off lately (for the last year or so) and stringing words together hasn’t been easy. But today I felt like I needed to blog again. I hate slow days. They make you feel like the wheels on your wagon are loose and are about to fall off. Don’t get me wrong, nothing beats a lazy Sunday. But for me today was just completely off. It was just off.

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Last week I did some spring cleaning on my laptop. My little baby has been struggling to perform for a while (I’ve had her for close to 6 years now since my dad handed her off to me) and I felt that getting rid of my old files would free up space and get her moving again. It was quite the experience really, perusing through old files, assignments, music and recordings of songs I wrote (yes I dabbled in song writing in 2012). It was great looking back at how far I’d come over the last six years and how my taste and interests had evolved over the years. I still can’t shake off the fact that I can’t delete this file from my Dropbox though. If anyone has an idea of what’s wrong, please let me know

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For the greater part of my life things have been comfortable. I have been privileged to say the least.  When I look back in time, it seems like things have gone well for me. Everything I’ve set my mind to do up until graduation has been a success. While I have made questionable decisions (and life choices) from time to time, things have largely turned out fine. Because of this I feel like I’ve hit a rough patch. My venture isn’t moving at the pace I would’ve liked to see it and everything just feels slow. I don’t feel as productive as I should and lately I’ve been questioning things, dreaming up hypotheticals of what could have been and wondering if I made a mistake with everything. I don’t regret anything at all but I sometimes wonder if things could be different, if they could’ve been better. Like where would I be if I hadn’t decided my major at the toss of a coin (yes in essence that’s how I picked Civil Engineering) for example? I will probably never get an answer but its questions like this that keep bugging me sometimes.

Pangu Ndapedza

I like looking back from time to time. The past is always a goldmine of inspiration and gentle reminders of where I’ve come from and what I have set myself to achieve. Recently, I stumbled upon my old ALA application. I found a certain page particularly interesting, page 7. On it, was my essay response to the question; “Imagine you have just completed your 300-page autobiography. What is on page 217?” Being the creative writer I am, you could imagine that this essay was something that was godsend. It also felt somewhat daunting to write something of the sort. Now that I have read it over six years later, it feels like nothing has changed as far as trajectory is concerned. I have made a few edits here and there just to keep up with the times, but the essence of it remains the same. Anyways, here it is below. Page 217 of my future autobiography and beginning of chapter 10…

Never in my life had I dreamt of something like this happening. I had heard a couple of rumours about it but I didn’t think they would turn out to be true. The phone call I received from the President was quite the shocker, and I must admit, for a while I thought someone was pranking me.  I will never forget those words. “Zimbabwe NEEDS people like you Munyaradzi. With your experience and vast amount of development you’ve brought through Mufukuri, you’re the right man for the job.” It took me while to register everything that came through the wireless. I was taken aback by the offer, especially with the fact that I’d received recognition from the President himself. Only after a moment did I finally reply “yes” to become the new minister of Energy and Mines.

After the swearing in and orientation into cabinet I was ready to enter office. Things were terrible on my first day in the ministry and everything was in shambles. The office was a mess and no one could really tell what had been going on there or what direction my predecessor had actually set things in. Files were all over the place and there were barely any tangible records in the filing cabinets. As I familiarized with the ministry workers, I was disgusted to hear stories of the various ministers who’d come before me and had embezzled millions. Sheer horror came to mind as I imagined a cock-pit of corrupt officials piloting one of the country’s most valuable ministries. To make matters worse, the information systems were so out-dated that one could only wonder how Zimbabwe got this far. It was then that when I realized that changes and huge sacrifices needed to be made if anything worthwhile was to be accomplished. The following day I set myself towards planning the restructure of the industry. If I was going to do things right, then I was going to have to run the Ministry similarly to how I ran Mufukuri – that was the only way I would speed up the recovery of the ministry…

And that concludes page 217.  I wish I could continue this story but there is so much more that happens first before I get to the stage of receiving presidential phone calls.  Some people might notice the parallels between this story and Nkosana Moyo’s invitation to be part of government in 2001. I hadn’t realized that it was so similar up until now when I rewrote this. Imagine that, seventeen year old me wrote this essay without realizing it had happened ten years earlier? Funny isn’t it? Anyways, when I wrote it I didn’t see my story turning out the way his did. It had a better ending…

 Pangu Ndapedza