Okkafor Ngimtomei is my name, I was born in the rural cities of Hirirbone Zimbabwe. Born to a small family, a mother and a father who had already had a daughter before I was born. The son of Joseph Ngimtomei, Zimbabwe's most elite luitenant commander of the Military Basin— A group of hired soldiers who are recruited to exploit foreign lands, extract source of information without a trace like a league of assassins in the shadows. Wherever they went people disappeared— We could have had a great life perhaps a better chance at normal and happy life if only life was fair. My father served our country, our home and our pride with honour and great duty to our salvation from those who held us by the but. Draining every ounce of resources we could have used to transform our nation into Africa's most noble and dominant but like every other nation in Africa our leaders are not as fearless as they pose neither are they honest and sincere about everything they tell the world and their own people. They always lies and they always let the hidden powers take control behind our backs while they play president on national air and in our faxes. But we do not know truth nor do we know a lie. For even the smallest of lies have become the truth unfolded before our eyes. Our voices are not heard by others yet they expect us to hear theirs when they cry out for help. Our President was a fool to chase out the white man, was a fool to chase away his own people by forcing his own military powers to oppress its people. But where has that gotten any of us?
Every African nation deserves a chance at freedom but are any of our current leaders doing a better job? Instead of fighting for our freedom on a global stage they choose to chase away the same people they could use to win Africa back from its oppressors and colonizers who claim to have disclaimed all claims to our lands yet their Western and European countries benefit from us while we starve and suffer from all angles of war crimes. Where is the fairness in all this? They are supposed to serve us but now we are told to serve them. Where is the beautiful mother Africa our ancestors spoke of? What happened to Ubuntu? What happend to the true African freedom fighters? Do we not know that winning the first battle after hundred or so years was just the beginning of another to conquer? Do we not know that the war is not yet over but it is just warming up? You were supposed to protect uu, you were supposed to lead us into the great nation we deserve to be. They mock us because we believe we have won the fight, we have won freedom but no. We have only bought ourselves mere time. Time we have kept on wasting like they hoped we would. Starving one another on the back and killing each other. We are a laughingstock, we believe a lie and call it the truth. If I were able to go back in time I would go back to 1979, before we won our independence and I would have cut a better deal with the British than what our long serving President Jacob Hamari has done since the day he became our president. The day he brought shame and dishonour and death into our country. I am not a killer but my country might turn me into one but I disagree I would rather be turned into a killer by the world than by my home. My country and my Africa. My father once said, "the world is not ready for you but Africa is ready." And he was right the world is not ready for what is to come but my continent is. Africa is and no one will stop what is to come.
— After twenty years of service Zimbabwe had no reason to keep my father in duty as a result every white man, woman and child was chased out. Out of Africa and out of our country many were killed, imprisoned and no one dared to start a war with us. We were mighty once I will give my country that but what came after is the reason the whole world even our African brothers do not have to fear us anymore. We took our country back but what good did that do for all of us?
More than a million illegal immigrants force their way into neighbouring countries every decade or less seeking for asylum from their brothers in arms but not every country accepts us yet we wear the same skin and bleed the same blood. They call us foreigners, invaders, and lost sheep of this world and our continent. They even went as far to give us an identity. One we are not proud of yet we are forced to bare it and wear it like the very clothes that keep us warm in the cold sometimes under the heat. 'Zama-Zamas' they call us. Why? Because our mothers and fathers even brothers are trying hard to make a living for us children. Instead of welcoming us chased out from our own homes and country we are chased back into the land of the dead. Where our mothers and sisters are raped and father's killed for trying to protect them from the soldiers. People who were meant to out for us. The white man is more foreign than we black people can ever be foreign. No one wants to hear our war cries. Children are being raped, shot and killed by those who swear to protect them. Our fathers are forced into arms and thrown into civil wars across Africa but never are their families back home compensated instead they watch us starve while our fathers are murdered in foreign lands fighting for the Liberation of those who barely know their names. Maybe our African brothers have forgotten that we were the ones who liberated them, maybe they have forgotten that for them to walk the streets safe without the white man having to beat or shoot them our fathers had to go to war, had to leave their families unattended and fight for those who wear the skin we wear as well. Yet today the very same people would rather bed and be housed by the white man than see another black brother from another country walk free in their countries but when the Red Cross Rebels raid their countries whom do they call?
Don't they call us, where are the white man in all that? Why can't the Americans or the Europeans intervene and help them out?
I was born in a military hospital, to my mother Miriam Khoza, a South African of course who had met my father in the Army when she was deported from her country to our country as a military aid doctor when our country were at war with the rebels of Congo, the Congolese War Chiefs— They must have fell in love on sight, how they did a mystery but when they did my sister was born and I was born five years after her, and she was the one who gave me the name Okkafor Ngimtomei, son of former Luitenant commander Joseph Ngimtomei.