TRACING BACK MY ROOTS

Chapter One 1973

What a beautiful year, what a blessed year, a year of interesting political, economic and social events to reckon.

The Cold War which has started in 1947 was still ongoing in 1973.According to the Wikipedia "The Cold War was a period of geopolitical tension between the Soviet Union with its satellites states, and the United States with its allies after World War II. The history of the conflict began between 1946 and 1947.The Cold War began to de-escalate after the Revolution of 1989" The major events of the Cold War was the Berlin Blockade, Sino-Soviet Split, and the Berlin crisis of 1961.So in short, the Cold War was a major event of 1973.

The Space Race was a major event of 1973 because it was still ongoing. The Space race began in 1957 and ended in 1975.This race was considered important because it showed the world which country had the best science, technology, and economic system. After World War II both the United States and Soviet Union realized how important rocket research would be to the military www.dusksters.com .The United States won the space race by landing its astronauts on the moon in 1975.So the space race was another key event of 1973.

Another Key 1973 event was the Vietnam War. This war started in the 1950s and was more on French colonial period of the 1800s(wikipedia).This war was later joined by the USA and ended in 1973.The reader can see how the year 1973 is famous.

Other 1973 events include the Detente(1969-1979),the Watergate scandal (1972-1974), 1973 oil crisis(1973-1974),the energy crisis (1973-1980).

We then come to one of the major 1973 world event, the death of Mutero Chikuvadze also known as Mugwaza or Chakarara. Some say he died in 1974 some say he died 1973.This man was the son of Chikuvadze of VaHara clan.He was married to Magagula or VaManyada of the Sibanda clan from Mutandi family.

I am not sure where this man was born but it must be Lalapansi Zimbabwe. He later migrated to a place which is around Kwekwe,Mhondoro,Chirumhanzu and Mvuma which was later named Rhodesdale. He had ten children, seven boys and three girls with his wife Magagula. Mutero and other people who were staying in Rhodesdale were forced by the white colonial government around 1952 and 1953 to move to Gokwe under Chief Mukako and settled at Gadza Village.

So in 1973 this great man fell sick. The author is not sure whether Mutero was ever sent to hospital or is so sure what sort of illness he was suffering from but oral history say he had the same signs showing on HIV and AIDS patients. Take note, there was no AIDS by 1973.And so the great man breathed his last and was buried at Gadza Village ,Chief Mukoka Gokwe.

My father who was the 9th child of Mutero and Magagula was born in 1946/7 there. He was tall and light in complexion. He stammered a little in most cases when he got angry. He met young girl who was staying with his uncle Taruvinga of the Murehwa clan kwaNgarani Village.Edinah was the second born of Amon Mirai Shavi and Janifer Shavi of Goto Village Sanyati Arda Turn Off. The two met in 1972 and in September 1973 the author of this book was born.

I don't remember much the events that took place while we were still staying in Kana because I was still young. I was born in 1973 and later migrated to Ndabambi under chief Njelele in 1973.However, I still remember that we had a thatched round hut and a two room thatched four corner mud and pole bedroom. I don't remember us having a bed there. There was a shrub of a mango tree in the yard.

I don't remember us having many visitors but we had a frequent visitor especially during weekends and when it was time for sporting shows at Gadza Primary School Mainini Sarudzai was my friend. Mainini Sarudzai was daughter to my mother’s brother from Ngarani Village.She used to bring Sugarcane (nzimbe) and a few coins to buy (pain-coolers) a drink sold in a plastic paper for me.

I also remember that one day we went to the fields with my father with our oxen. I was leading the oxen while my father was behind the oxen with a plough (I don’t know how I did it because I was 4 or 5 years old) then suddenly we heard the sound of continuous loud gunshots coming from the side of Kana river. We lied with our stomach on the ground but the sound didn't stop. My father unyoked the oxen and we rushed home. It was quite frightening and I later learnt that I was born at the height of the Zimbabwe’s independence war.

I can’t remember the birth of Xmas the one who comes after me born in 1975 in December on the Xmas Day but I remember vividly the birth of Phylis the third born who was born on the 28th of January 1978.When my mother felt the labour pains (it was during the day not at night) my cousin sister Christine and I were sent to go and call VaManyada/Magagula to come to do the midwifery duties. We found her drinking a home prepared beer commonly known as '7 days' or 'doro rematanda' in my Shona language. Yes, we found her and she quickly rushed home (though she was already drunk) and Phylis was delivered a healthy baby.

There was much rejoicing in the family to receive the first baby girl. My father wanted to give a present to my mother for a job well done but he had nothing to give her. He had no goat to slaughter for my mother. However, my father was a hunter. He used to make some snares(zvidzingi) to trap wild animals. On the 29th of January 1978 we woke up and I accompanied my father to the fields to go and check on his snares. Coincidentally we found an animal brown in colour already dead on the snare. We untied the animal and my father carried the animal which was the size of a goat and we hastily went home happy people.

There was double rejoicing at home, celebrating for our new baby and newly found game meat. I was happy. I knew no other world besides our small family of five people, our fields, Mbuya Manyada and Mainini Saru Taruvinga.

Suddenly around August 1978 I saw my mother and father removing our few belongings from the mud thatched huts into a lorry, Thames to be precise, which was packed a distant from our yard. It was not our family alone which was moving items but all my father’s six brothers’ families were moving, loading their belongings into two or three lorries.

I was worried. I had a lot of questions in my head. What is happening? Where are we going? I asked my mother what was happening and she said "Tave kutama" we are migrating. It was not a happy moment for everyone. Everything was being done hastily talking with hashed voices. My father had two sisters married in the same village with us, these aunties came to bid us farewell but they looked sorrowful. My young untie Tete Mai Feruna actually was crying as she helped us load our goods into the lorry. There we go, the lorry departed from Gadza Village in the meandering sandy Gokwe road towards Gokwe Centre.

Check this space for Chapter Two Titled the Migration
Etiwel Mutero is an archivist,records manager,political analyst and an author +263773614293