I can't believe what's happening in Zimbabwe, Mugabe must be insane. Ever since my Mum came over here, I have been very detached from my feelings towards the country of my birth.I am probably trying to block out all the memories of what it was and what it has become. Now and again, I think about Puppy and I am filled with remorse that I don't have him with me, I hope his new owner is looking after him and spoiling him. I don't know how anyone is faring really, we tried to call some friends today, but it seems that all the lines were down. Who knows what to think when all you see on the news is such terrible suffering and violence. I am haunted by the terrible stories and news footage, like the face of the four year old boy who was beaten and his mother dragged off never to be seen again. He hasn't been able to speak since it happened. Another baby whose legs were smashed , his mother had to walk 12 miles for medical attention , and the best they could do for him was splints, now his little legs jut out at funny angles. All I can say is that the powers that be in this world must want things to be that way, otherwise they would intervene.There will come a time when good will override evil, but I don't think the Zimbabwean people can take much more, they're too hungry, too poor and too beaten.
I know when the dream of going back ended for me. It was November 2002, I had gone on my yearly visit and my sister was there as well. We drove out to a place called World's View, which I have mentioned in my blogs many times. On the way back down to the car I went ahead of my sister, she had recently lost her Dad ( we have different fathers), and I sensed she needed some time alone. I stopped for a moment, because the scenery was breathtaking, the Matobo Hills stretched out for miles in a majestic panorama, and I breathed in the smell of the hot African bush, savouring every moment, for I was soon to return to the UK and it always used to wrench my heart to pieces. The sound of the birds chattering and the droning of all the insects seemed to get louder and louder, then all of a sudden everything was quiet and I seemed to be caught in a moment of time, the earth seemed to pause and I remember feeling the beautiful sun on my face and the breeze that was so gentle. I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of sadness, it was as if something was saying to me that terrible things were going to happen and that I must let go of my home because I would never return to live there. I began to weep uncontrollably as I knew in my heart of hearts it was over, I've never felt anything so clearly. It was quite honestly one of the saddest things I have ever felt, the experience so profound that I have never forgotten it, or told anyone about it. I don't know how long I stayed there, I cried till my tears ran dry. My father's ashes lie in a shrine in the Matobo Hills. It seems ironic that he was born in England and died in Africa and we are all born in Zimbabwe and have ended up in England. I know he would have wanted that.