The nightmare of peace and stability in Zimbabwe
I had this dream. I was running down Samora Machel Avenue in Harare. There was this big cloud of peace, stability, media freedom and democracy running behind me. The only thing was that I was not running towards it- I was running very fast from it.
Then all of a sudden I was no longer in Samora Machel Avenue. I was running through a train in London’s Subway.
In my mind I could hear loud screams. “Metropolitan Line! Circle Line! Piccadilly Line! Victoria Line!” Over and over again. I turned- and there it was again- peace, stability, democracy- and it had Morgan Tsvangirai’s face.
I came to a part of the train where there were other Zimbabweans blocking the way. I could go no further. I turned and together we booed and heckled.
The cloud stopped, stunned that we did not want it to envelop us. A tear formed in its eye. Morgan was hurt.
In our heart of hearts we did not want this democracy, this stability- because it meant we would have no reason to stay in London, no reason to seek asylum. We needed the violence, the callous disregard of life in our country to validate us as second class citizens of a land that was not ours.
“Metropolitan Line! Circle Line! Piccadilly Line! Victoria Line!”
“Boo NRZ! Boo ZUPCO! Boo Samora Machel Avenue! Boo Robert Mugabe Avenue! Boo our own country!”
“Yay to wiping bums forever!”
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