Arriving at the wide blue river crossed with swathes of golden sand, there was a feeling of overwhelming timelessness. People passed by in carts pulled by donkeys or oxen, children wielding thin hide whips to steer the animals; young children in charge of watching over the family’s cattle grazing on the roadsides; a tiny little boy, perhaps five years old, running after goats that had escaped onto the road. The water level in the big river was dropping fast, disappearing into the thick sand but in other places, there were wide, deep, fast-flowing channels which made the crossing from one side to the other a hazardous affair. In the distance on a newly emerging sand spit, there was a big flock of water birds, Storks perhaps, or Ibis.
It was a hot day under a bright blue sky but winter is already in the air, temperatures dropping, and days getting shorter. A group of youngsters were swimming in the shallows of the river. I felt nervous for them, I couldn’t see any crocodiles but felt sure they would be there. When I asked a woman not so long ago if she thought it was safe for the children to swim in the river she said the crocodiles would take the goats drinking at the river bank long before they took the children. I wasn’t so sure because we hear of crocodile attacks all the time in Zimbabwe; just a fortnight ago a 13-year-old girl was taken by a crocodile one afternoon, watched by her 8-year-old sister when they were bathing in the shallows in the Hunyani River.
At the sound of cowbells in the distance, my attention was drawn to two young teenagers, a boy and a girl, starting to cross the river from the far bank with a herd of cattle. Twenty or more big animals with large curved white horns set out into the river bed, through sand, then shallow water and then into the deep fast flowing channel. The cattle looked huge compared to the youngsters who had only a thin stick to guide the animals with or protect themselves. The herd split, one child went after them while the other carried on with about ten cows in front of her. The water was deep, the girl was up to her chest, her stick above her head. I held my breath, willing her safe passage and no crocs and then at last she was across, the cattle safe and the other group not far behind. I breathed again.
It wouldn’t be long, perhaps a week or two before there would be more sand than water in this river and then the picture would change all over again. The hazards for the children are so real here and might get less as the river drops but the chores will get heavier: carrying water in buckets, walking further to find grazing, carrying firewood, working in the fields, and finding food. This is everyday life for millions of children in Zimbabwe, with no electricity, no piped water to be able to shower at home and endless chores. A news report last week described the sharp increase in child labour as the economic situation In Zimbabwe continues to decline. Inflation is now pegged at 207%, unsurvivable for most families, leaving parents unable to even afford school fees. We are back in the circumstances of 2005-2008 when school fees increase every term or every month and are quoted in hundreds of thousands or even millions of dollars. Teachers can’t cope on meagre wages, parents can’t cope with million-dollar school fees and so the children just fall by the wayside, doing whatever is needed to help their families survive. It’s no better on the resettled tobacco farms either where news reports say “children as young as five work in the fields with their parents,” because the new farmers cannot afford to employ labour. (AP)
Meanwhile, grand promises ahead of next year’s general elections have already stared including this one: ‘Free primary education in 2023;’ “the President is committed,” Public Services Minister Paul Mavhima said. Will the children herding cattle through the river, the little boy on the road with the goats, the sisters bathing in the river or the infants in the tobacco fields benefit from this? Do their parents remember forty years of promises of free education made before every election since 1980? Promises are never kept.
There is no charge for this Letter From Zimbabwe but if you would like to donate please visit my website. Until next time, thanks for reading this Letter From Zimbabwe now in its 22nd year, and my books about life in Zimbabwe, a country in waiting, love cathy, 5th May 2022. Copyright © Cathy Buckle. https://cathybuckle.co.zw/Post published in: Featured