My dictionary defines fixation as a term used to designate a compulsion to continue a kind of activity which has no adaptive value. A person repeats a fixated action despite knowing it will accomplish nothing. Lady Macbeths persistent hand-washing in William Shakespeares masterpiece is a classic example of an abnormal fixation.Fellow, Zimbabweans ,I must confess today that for months after the presidential run-off in June last year, I too experienced a similar fixation. I felt an irresistible compulsion to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth endlessly.
No, I did not have bad breath but something had happened to me that had given the expression to leave a sour taste in the mouth a new meaning. I had been forced to chant Zanu (PF) slogans!
My ordeal began one Sunday before the presidential run-off when a Zanu (PF) zealot went round my neighbourhood reminding everyone to attend a rally that afternoon. Bull, I cursed under my breath as he lectured me on the importance of attending the rally to show support for President Robert Mugabe.
Until that day, I had always fancied myself to be a principled person capable of standing my ground with regard to my beliefs. But fellow countrymen and women, faced with the menacing confrontation of the man before me, my courage deserted me.
After taking my name and physical address, the man told me a roll call would be made at the rally and woe unto me if I did not turn up.
What the hell do you do in a situation like that in which you are doomed either way? Many Zimbabweans will be familiar with being forced into such a predicament. But despite your rage at such moments, your survival instincts kick in. You do what you have to do if you want to live to see another day.
I was still seething with resentment when my tormentor returned, this time driving a huge truck into the back of which I was helped to climb. A number of my equally shocked neighbours were already there but we could not even acknowledge each other.
Upon arrival at the venue of the rally, we were given Zanu (PF) T-shirts and head scarves and instructed to wear them immediately. We were then shepherded into a section of the crowd that represented our branch. So in one fell swoop, I was suddenly a member of a Zanu (PF) branch !
To cut a long story short, the crunch came when we were required to chant the negative, hate-filled slogans that the former sole ruling party is notorious for. Down with America, Britain, sell-outs, the opposition, Morgan Tsvangirai etc we found ourselves chanting against our will.
The chanting reached a crescendo when were required to shout : 27 June VaMugabe mu office by ginya This was the most often repeated slogan throughout the tedious proceedings.
In true Zanu (PF) fashion, we were required to find our own way home afterwards. Still resplendent in party regalia, I collapsed into a disgusted heap as soon as I got home. How could this sort of thing happen in an independent country where people were supposed to be free and safe? I felt dirty and defiled. That is when the obsession to clean my mouth began.
Those who talk of national healing in an academic and abstract sense must realise that psychological trauma is real and the emotional wounds go deep. Thousands of Zimbabweans must be struggling with the emotional anguish of having been raped, beaten, maimed, seeing loved ones tortured, killed or abducted.
More still have had their lives ruined by having property and livestock forcibly seized by their tormentors. All these have their own tales to tell. No true healing can take place if an attempt is made to gloss over these horrors.
I am lucky to have overcome my mouth-cleaning obsession. But what about those still experiencing nightmares from having endured unspeakable brutality and degradation?
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