Hope Deferred: Life Under Zimbabwe's Cruel Dictator
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In late 2005, I registered for asylum with the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. I left South Africa in 2008. In between, I worked for a short time in hospitals in South Africa, counseling people who are HIV-positive. I’ve had two surgeries since I came to Canada. It functions normally now. It doesn’t hurt anymore. But the sadness never goes away.
What makes me sad is that people in Zimbabwe have come to think that suffering is normal. Those who were kids in the ’80s have known of no other life other than poverty, disease, hunger, death, and misery. In Zimbabwe children never enjoy their childhood. They are busy going hungry, foraging for food, and learning the tricks of survival.
Mugabe is very old now, and when he dies his party will disintegrate or start fighting among themselves. Even the army and the police will desert Zanu-PF—they will quit, or they will actively support another leader. And when Mugabe finally goes, it will be a lesson for all members of all security branches of the country never to become partisan. Right now, they can’t resign because of fear. They are riding a tiger. When they try to get off, the tiger will eat them. The riders are Mugabe and his henchmen. The tiger is the long-suffering people of Zimbabwe. You cannot hold a nation in bondage for such a long time.