Fly high Veronica Mhere

I am extremely sad to be writing an obituary so early in the year. I was quite upset to receive word on the passing of someone I knew just a little, but who touched my life in a big way and she did not even know it.  Veronica Mhere-Dzinomurumbi was one of my sister’s closest friends from high school. We knew her well before we met her from stories that my sister, Tadiwa, told about her. Eventually I met her and she struck me as this exuberant character, and that explained why she had made such an impact on my sister.

Strange that I should be writing about my sister’s friend who I only had minimal contact with, but she made a generous gesture that I shall never forget. For someone who wasn’t really my friend, we had quite a few things in common. We got married during the same year and wore the same wedding dress because she lent me hers. It was gorgeous and fit like a glove. I dazzled on my wedding day, thanks to her. My mother-in-law, a traditional woman, had her work cut out for her pulling and tugging the dress on the special day because the dress showed too much skin as far as she was concerned J. In the run-up to the wedding, it felt like I was being overtaken by events because I had been denied leave to prepare. When the dress was offered, I quickly snapped it because I was clueless where to get one quickly. I was prepared to pay for it, but Vero refused to accept the money. That also meant a lot to me because with the wedding around the corner, the coffers were running dry and we were trying to pinch pennies wherever we could. I remember buying her a peach bed cover after my wedding, just to say thank you.  She also offered the cake stands. Every time I peruse my wedding photos, I will remember this fantastic woman.

Veronica and I shared August 2 as our birthday, and our first-born children were also born on the same day, January 12. I’m sad for her child who only just turned 10 and has lost a mother. It’s always heartbreaking when a young mother dies. May the good Lord watch over her precious children. They must have been the one thing on her mind when she took ill and knew she would not make it. My heart really bleeds for her and the kids, as it does for every mother that leaves her brood.

I have written this post with hopes that one day, when her kids are old enough to surf the net, they can see yet another testimony of what a lovely human being their mom was, and hopefully emulate. I

know they will get many other versions of her beautiful spirit from other sources. 

Veronica’s death has taught me to appreciate every waking moment, every day that I wake up and my children say, “Good morning mummy.” There is so much to be depressed about in life, but the fact that we are here now - the gift of life far outweighs all the negatives. Sleep peacefully Veronica, I pray for your soul, and I pray for the loved ones you left behind, especially the children. The world is a much poorer place without you in it.

Farewell Dr Vimbai Gukwe Chivaura

Dr Vimbai Gukwe Chivaura (picture sourced from the Internet)

I got word of Dr Chivaura’s passing from my friend, Greatman, and it was quite a shock since I hadn’t heard of his illness. Not that it would have been easy to hear of it given that I’m so far away from home.

I had a long-standing relationship with Dr Chivaura dating back to 1999 when I started my 1^st year at the University of Zimbabwe (UZ) to the time that I produced a Current Affairs programme he participated in at the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation. At UZ, as soon as people who had done literature learned I was going also going to take the subject, they would immediately start talking about Chivaura, saying things like, “Uchamuona hako, muchanzwirira!” and things like that. I eventually met him, and oh boy, did we get an earful! He was quite charismatic. He’s not the type of person you would forget easily. Following his passing, I was chatting to former classmates, and everyone still had something they remembered him saying, unlike some lecturers who we have to scratch heads for before we can remember something they said, or even their names. It is for this reason that I decided to write something in memory of Dr Vimbai Chivaura. I felt he couldn’t just go like that. Something has to be written. I know there will be quite a few obituaries in his name, many of them unwritten.

For the general Zimbabwean populace, Dr Chivaura’s claim to fame were his unapologetic views on the ruling Zanu PF, opposition MDC, and the land reform programme. I remember a day that he broached the land reform programme during a lecture. One guy said it would have been a good concept if it had been done systematically. “Systematically?” he asked, wide eyed. “If you had spent two weeks without eating sadza and it was suddenly presented to you, would you eat it systematically? Wouldn’t you just attack it?” he said.

Dr Chivaura never really stuck to formal lecturing. He liked chatting and picking people’s brains on topical issues. I don’t remember him for specific set books, but for his views and for prompting students to think critically about the world around them. During one of his lectures, he started talking about how fast men were becoming irrelevant in women’s lives. “In the West, penises are being sold over the counter. You just go and pick the one you want wonozvibaya zvako wega!” he said.

 He liked stimulating debate without really imposing his strong views on anyone. He stood his ground, you would never be left confused about how he felt about anything, yet he listened attentively to everyone’s point of view. The debates were almost on an equal footing. It is probably for this reason that students still loved him and liked to listen to his hilarious interpretation of the country’s issues. Many people are hated for their divergent views. It wasn’t usually the case with Dr Chivaura and his students, but he wasn’t loved too much on the streets by people who watched him on TV.

Without attempting to contaminate his memory, I will be honest and mention that Dr Chivaura was a bit of a flirt. At some point I needed help with my postgrad project and my co-coordinator referred me to Dr Chivaura. As I got into his office, he looked at me with his trademark smile and said, “Hauchionaka! Ndiwe chaiye musikana wandinoda kuendesa kuna amai vangu!” It was an awkward moment for me because I thought he was really old. And I was right! When he passed, I got to know that he was just a year my father’s junior. Another time, I had to see him again for the said project, and after the greetings, he said, “Chichema tinzwe ndigochemawo,” which for me was laden with innuendos. I don’t know if he was really hitting on me or was just enjoying playing with words as he was a poet, but it was a little weird for me. I didn’t take him seriously and he, fortunately, never said anything suggestive again.

Dr Chivaura was also quite a gossip. One day he saw me chatting to a friendly literature lecturer who people said was gay. He called me later and said, “I saw you talk to ******. Unoziva here kuti ingochani?” I must have mumbled something because I was horrified and wasn’t sure how to respond. He was undaunted and said, “Unoda kuziva here kuti ngochani yake ndiyani?” Before I could affirm my willingness to know, he came closer and hissed in my ear, “Ndi********!” Only Dr Chivaura would pull a stunt like that.

I remember meeting him near Zesa offices just after I had delivered my first child. He had seen me pregnant prior to that, so he said congratulations and went on to tell me he had also got a baby at around the same time as I delivered.  I was a little bewildered as I was of the opinion that he was at an age where he was supposed to be receiving grandchildren, not procreating. But who am I to tell people when to stop having babies? Right now, I just feel really sorry for that child he told me about, his siblings, and their mother. He must be close to 10 years of age now, and he just lost a father with a very strong personality. I was honoured to have come into contact with Dr Vimbai Chivaura, and I feel sorry for literature students at UZ who will just have to content with tales about him and not be able to meet this enigma. May his soul rest in eternal peace.

** names withheld because of the sensitivity of the allegations

Here is how some of my classmates remember him:

Greatman: Chivaura for me was one of the elite that pretended to be pro-African, yet their lifestyles spoke everything Western. He was obsessed with talking about African drums and stuff. I, however, liked his informal and casual approach to a lecture room situation.

Za: Chivaura was a character and a half. He said he was very proud to be a black man because black men, including himself, were handsome whichever way you looked at them. He was against the bible because he said it was the white man’s way of colonizing the black man’s mind. I clearly remember him challenging the authenticity of the biblical creation. He said that in the bible, it is written that when Cain slew Abel he was banished to the land of Nod, and when he got there he married. So he said, “And where did the land of Nod and its people come from since the first people were Adam and Eve, Cain’s parents?”

Ngoni: I enjoyed his lectures a lot. No student failed his course because he spent the whole period talking about Chennels and Musaemura, then towards the end he would just dish handouts. If you read the handout, that would be the exams kkk