So who am I?
I may have grown up in the same Matabeleland province as parents, but my upbringing was a reflection of what they never had, or possibly would be been the stuff their childhood dreams were made of. They didn’t go to a pre-school that gave elocution lessons, or had the chance enrol in one of the country’s finest schools steeped in a culture of all round excellence. While my father in his youth may have had to bring the cattle home after school in rural Kezi, I had cricket and tennis in the afternoons and while my mother’s packed lunch may have been sweet potato in her rural Insiza setting, I found the cold meats and salad lunch unpalatable.
Inasmuch as I may believe to be a product of a modern democratic and yet decaying Zimbabwe ruled by the black majority, I remain a minority. Few have been so fortunate to have a privileged upbringing in a country where poverty and social injustice is the norm. Having studied abroad, suddenly I am aware that I can hardly spell in SiNdebele or complete a sentence without borrowing a word from English. I daren't try read. I may have a Nguni name with such gracious meaning but then again I have to second guess what my first language is. I sometimes ask myself what language I actually think in.So who am I? I am a product of those pedigree dreams which our African parents had for us - to be all they could never be. But it has turned us into mongrels, hybrids who can command an intellectual debate on western philosophy but shy away issues concerning the continent at present: AIDS, malaria, poverty, conflict and democracy.
Inasmuch as I may believe to be a product of a modern democratic and yet decaying Zimbabwe ruled by the black majority, I remain a minority. Few have been so fortunate to have a privileged upbringing in a country where poverty and social injustice is the norm. Having studied abroad, suddenly I am aware that I can hardly spell in SiNdebele or complete a sentence without borrowing a word from English. I daren't try read. I may have a Nguni name with such gracious meaning but then again I have to second guess what my first language is. I sometimes ask myself what language I actually think in.So who am I? I am a product of those pedigree dreams which our African parents had for us - to be all they could never be. But it has turned us into mongrels, hybrids who can command an intellectual debate on western philosophy but shy away issues concerning the continent at present: AIDS, malaria, poverty, conflict and democracy.
