It was 01:59:13 Zimbabwean standard Time that my mother found herself screaming in room 44 in the labour hospital floor. Thirteen woman both young as teenagers and some old enought to be respected as mothers were giving birth that that early morning-night. Father was away like he was always off for a gig outside the country because that was the only way for him to bring food on the table or he would have to rejoin the Army and kill as many Zimbabwean fathers, children and brothers even mothers and daughters to please his president general, Sibanda Silva Chigwenya. Our ruthless president whom in his take over he has seen to it that more than a hundred Zimbabwean children have been killed, both woman and child raped or killed and fathers thrown into foreign countries to fight wars sided with their sons. My father chose different, he's always been a coward especially towards doing what was right but I do not blame him, how could I? What would he do alone to such a country like my own, even the European powers cannot convince the monster to take a moment and think what he has done through. How many Americans have shared their remorse and regret for not intervening when it was most convenient? How father's have died since? How many daughters and mothers have been raped since, impregnated with illegitimate children? How many sons and brothers have to beheaded or chased out of the country or given the gun to fight not against their country but outside it? How much blood must be shed before someone can realise enough is enough? All we can hear is the violation of woman in our neighbouring countries but what about the deaths of our families and fathers on a daily basis? What about them? How are we children supposed to survive in a country like Zimbabwe or a world full of hypocrisy and political lies? When will they hear our cries outside lies, the wars and violence brewing in their countries? When will that day come?
See how painful life is for those living in Zimbabwe even for well known and respected soldiers cannot have a normal life for their families without a sacrifice and my father chose otherwise, but again I say, I do not blame him— The only person whom my mother said was there was my father's sister Elisa. She held her hand the entire time, letting her know she was there and she would still be there after I would be born. Elisa was younger than my mother like was the only one in my father's family who adored mother. My sister must have been with the family as a result she was not there also the fact she was still a child as well when I was born.
"Do not give into the pain mama, be strong for the boy." Elisa had said to my mother. It was hard giving birth to me for some reason. Four hours and still she struggled to give birth to me that it came down to whether they cut me out and my dies or they lose us both but my mother argued for none but to go on even if it was killing her. My aunt Elisa took the decision to call every nurse into the labour room and she forced them to pray because the doctors claimed nothing could be done to bring me successfully to this world without one of us dying. My mother said to me, "I felt the heavens open and the hand of God pull you out of my womb like I was in a dream." It was a Saturday evening and I was four by that time when she was telling me how I came to be. "You are a very special child Okka, and your mother loves you very much." She kissed my forehead and my father had came in at the second from outside where the rain was pouring. It wasn't the worst or the best Saturdays we've had but nothing was exciting more than the stories mother told me while my sister sat in the kitchen doing her homework.
"The Rain's pouring my love." Father placed a takeaway of bread and some spicy chips on the table before coming over us he gently embraced my sister then lit another candlelight since there was no electricity. "Hello my soldier boy." He took me to his arms as he sat by our mother, "Daisy come over here and ear with your family." He called my sister over who nodded her head no word coming from her. "Come on, you won't fail because you missed homework, rather eat then finish your homework." He encouraged and she came over with a smile taking four water rinsed glasses from the sink and the coldrink in the refrigerator. She sat on Mama's lap and we all are together enjoying what would be our last happy sup for what would follow would shutter of our father and change our lives forever. If only I knew the future and knew what would happen on a Sunday morning-night...I do not know, what could have I done. I am not a god, and I am surely not like father or as strong as he was at four years old. What difference could I have made at four years old, I couldn't kill a man worse six heavily armed and military trained men who broke into our happy home while we slept— It was 02:12:07 that as the nurses and my aunty Elisa were praying that my mother screamed her last breath and I was born crying without a single passing moment that I could have grown without a mother.