Registered under the National Arts Council of Zimbabwe

30 December 2019

WIN NEWSLETTER, VOL 2, NO 10



EDITORIAL



WIN members briefly got together after the 2019 ZIBF Writers Workshop, one of the literary events in Harare which kept the inspiration glowing.


N
ow that the year 2019 has ended, we look back in joy at the things we accomplished, and with pride, we look at the defeated agents of the devil whose forces fought to drain our strength away. No sector in Zimbabwe has been spared from the economic turmoil, which is slashing hope in pieces, but as writers, like any other Zimbabwean artist, we have been strong, like ‘buffalo soldiers’!
We bring you the last issue of our Newsletter for 2019 and its purely a celebration of the literary talent in WIN. All the poems here have been taken from our WhatsApp platform where the poets shared them during this month of December.
A large number of different books were published that talking about them would need a feature of their own. In the first newsletter of next year, we will attempt such an in-depth review of 2019 literature. Meanwhile, we congratulate all the writers who published in 2019 and put out their books to the reading public.
We have an enthusiastic membership of dreamers, writers and poets who have believed that one day their dreams will be realized through our literary programs. We admit we did little for them in the year 2019 due to circumstances beyond our control. Yet there is one thing we shall do for our membership, a promise we ought to fulfill, come what may, and that thing is the professional publishing and marketing of their works via the WIN Publishing Unit. In addition, Quality plus Talent will count.
We thank the organizations, writers and publishers, and various individuals who stood by us when our bones grew weary and we were near quitting because of hardship. You are the ones who, from the start to the end of 2019, made sure that the WIN should not die, and with love, you devoted time and money, wisdom and knowledge, to see WIN moving on.
For the few months that multi-talented writer Tinashe Muchuri have been our intern, we were enlightened by his new ideas and commitment to the promotion of new talent that is in WIN. We say, thank you. Our togetherness extends into the New Year and forever.
To be mentored by senior writers is a gift every student of writing wish to have. As an association, it was beautiful to have our elderly writers sending feedback and advice to us concerning WIN. Gogo Barbara Nkala, Shimmer Chinodya, Memory Chirere, Ignitius Mabasa, Olivia Christian Paasche, to mention but a few. Your comments and support gave us the joy of knowing that we were in the right direction, gave us the energy we needed most.
There are no words to describe how grateful we are to you all.
The WIN Board, it must be said, is a force of inspiration and a voice of guidance for all decisions WIN made. Together with the voluntary secretariat, matters of administration were dealt with professionally. Where we erred, we will make up in the New Year. Without this whole team, surely, we would have become stagnant. Prof Emmanuel Sigauke, our Patron, thank you.
We wish you all a brighter 2020. Be blessed forever and ever.



MY LIFE FORSAKING ME

By Chenjerai Mhondera


I live with swords stuffed in my flesh
Merciless pins piercing my soul
Sliced, chopped, punctured
I can’t mop the dirt away

I live with no belonging
My spirit in terrible setting
How can I be not?

My anger refuses silence
So my happiness barren
Neither does sorrow come to my rescue
Power drained, life flees from me



NGATINYOREYI
Na
Tinashe Muchuri


Usaenda Usina Kusiya Shoko



Makadii henyu kwese kwamuri uko? Ini kuno  ndinotamba. Tasvika nguva iya yekukuva kwegore. Nguva yatinotarisa patakadzadzarika tichisiya matsimba kumatama ayo nzira kusina akatsika, nepatakadzamba mukutsvanzvadzira kwedu tichipotsa pekubata murima, ko ipo pazembera maziso edu mukutsvaka zvingagutsa meso nendangariro mumhindo inonzi upenyu kuti nesuwo panguva iyoyi tigoti, vakafa havana chavakaona.
Gore ndiro rakaramba kutanga zvakanaka apo rakatihwepurira mhizhazwi hwereshenga yeuvaranomwe munyori ainyora zvakakwenenzwa zvose mururimi rweChiRungu uyevo  rweChiShona. Musimuvi Manhize Chikapakapa mhizha yedu yakatitsvedza Charles Lovemore Muzuva Mungoshi tikamusiyako kuDanamombe.
Imwe shasha yakangonyeruka chinyararire ndiuyu murume wekutura nganonyorwa ina mugore ra2014 uyuka uyu Chrisopher.
Ndangariro dzinesu zvishoma nezvishoma hadzisi kusiyana nesu nekuti kwataisienda navo hatichaendi siyei toimba kambo kaya kaLeonard Karikoga Zhakata kane mazwi anoti, 'Chiuyaka tichienda kwataisienda.'
Zvakadaro hazvo sevanyori takawana nguva yakanaka yekurangarira mabasa akabatwa nevanyori vatinoyemura. ZIBF yakatipa mukana wekupembera hunyorwa hwaDr. Yvonne Vera, Dr Charles Mungoshi, Ndabezinhle Sigogo naNobert Mafume Mutasa. Vana ava takavapemberera kuburikidza nekunzwa zviverengwa zvebasa ravo zvakayemurwa naNomsa Ngwenya, Virginia Phiri pamwe nemwana waiye Nobert mbune Felix Mutasa.
Unobva waona kuti basa rakanaka harifi. Nyamazwi haaparare.
Munguva imweyo chikamu chino cheNgatinyoreyi chaingobuda, nanhasi uno tinacho hachiperi kuzipa seuchi.
Ngatinyorei. Tisamira. Tirambe tichinyora kusvika zvinyorwa zvedu zvazadzisa denderedzwa reupenyu hwezvinyorwa. Ngatinyore mutambo wemudariro, mutambo wemuterevhizheni, firimu, nduri nemabhuku ekushandisa mukudzidza kwevana muzvikoro.
Kune  hama zhinji dziri kubata ndima iyi. Umwe wavo ndiGeorge Mujajati. Mujajati takava nenguva naye muWinZim whatsapp group lecture apo takadzidza kuti kunyora kwemudariro kunyorera vatambi vanotaurirana vachikurukurirana nyaya. Naizvozvo vanyori vanofanira kuverenga kuti kunyora kwavo kuve kwakarungama.
Tisanganezve gore rinouya mukunyora uku. Mukunyora mune  raramo. Usaenda usina kusiya shoko. Ndatenda.



LION CAUGHT IN A SNARE

By Donald Mushove

Who dares set him free?
Lion caught in a snare,
Tricked by the old Hunter,
Hunters at loggerheads!
Who dares free the lion?

The king of the jungle snared,
Master of stealthy,
Ruthless and fearless killing

Now the villagers cry foul,
Their livestock fattened the lion,
But now he is snared
Who dares free him?

He has been tricked by the old Hunter,
The poacher,
Villagers hate him too.
He has hunted out the forest,
That's why the lion changed territory,
Came to feed on their livestock
The poacher
Disturbed the balance,
And the lion went berserk.

But the villagers ate the game meat,
Gave orders for game meat,
Orders to the old Hunter,
To satisfy their appetite, he went out to hunt,
And they were merry,
And one day the lion came,
Showing displeasure,
Displeasure at the success of the old Hunter.
The villagers hated the Hunter first,
And then they hated the lion too!

Now the old Hunter has tricked the lion,
Who dares free the lion ?
Or who will celebrate the success of the old Hunter?

Are we supposed to celebrate?
Is there change?
Are we supposed to be angry with you?
Who dares free the lion?



CHILDREN LITERATURE IN ZIMBABWE

With


Aleck Kaposa


Hello, children. I hope you have been traveling during this holiday. I know some of you travelled by bus, others by train. This time I give you my poem The Big Yellow Train and I know you will enjoy it!


     The Big Yellow Train




The Big Yellow Train
Suddenly roars into life
Like a huge metal snake
         Climb, climb, climb
         The passengers climb in
          One by one
Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!
The Big Yellow Train
Hoots
As it slowly starts to move
         Clank! Clank! clank!
         The coaches behind the engine
          Rush past the station gate
The Big Yellow Train

Trundles past places
High and low
          It passes through towns
          It passes through farms
          It passes through villages
 Here and there it stops
To drop or pick passengers
But soon it’s going again
             On and on
             The Big Yellow Train goes
            Sometimes it travels
            All through the night
            But mostly it travels
            During the day
After a long, long journey
The Big Yellow Train
Reaches its destination
Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! It hoots
To say
This is the end of my long journey  
And I must stop.




MUKADZI WANGU TATENDA

NaNgonidzashe Mupinda

Zvangu zvinenge zvedenga chete!
Pasina denga zvingaitika zvakadaro?
Kuroora wepamwoyo asingarwari?
Pano pasi ndiye ega mutano Tatenda.
Pano pasi kana uchida akadaro,
Kutokumbira kumusiki kuti amusike,
Nekuti  wangu Tatenda angori zvake unique.
Haana kuita sevamunongoona vakadzi,
Handiti vamwe vese varwere panyika?
Vanorwara nechirwere chinonzi foot and mouth,
Kufunga kuti chese changopinda munzeve
Chinofanira kuswera chanzwika mumaraini.
Mai Tito, Mai Tino vanoswera vaudzwa.
Manje wangu Tatenda haana mutemo iwoyo,
Nhunzi pamuromo pake dzinoita madiro aJojina.



PARADZAI MESI

By Stanley ‘Onai’ Mushava

Poem taken from his collection Rhyme and Resistance (2019), which comes with other sungura poems

I am home among those without home;
All that friends remind me is I am alone.
I can’t drink the same gourd with my kin,
Heard me on radio and suppose I am rich.

I sing for a cause I no longer understand:
The solidarity I cannot feel where I stand.
I would not play if not to dig rivers of love
But disfavour fits what I touch like a glove.

Nehanda weaned me with poison on her breast.
Night is my blanket, and the street my headrest.
Brothers hear their own voices in this infernal hive.
Homeless sleep is a codeine ocean to deep-dive.

I was a poet in this country; now I am a pauper.
My words fall to the ground after cropping is over.
I want to see God but the sky is a clouded mirror,
His earth an infinite desert for the destitute believer.

My kin have bribed our ancestors against me;
I grow our family name without sugar in my tea.
I left their beer parties to wash my white garment.
My heart rots, my abasement, their amusement.

I want my every song to be about happiness
But first I will stagger alone out of darkness.
Feeling is truth but the soul is shrunk by austerity.
The sun drove as I hid from life behind authenticity.

The devil and my landlord ask me for chess advice:
Power the pawn, breathe language into the device.
When poetry is a golden bowl for milking alms,
Who files his claws to survive the animal farm?

Time trusts music with her sad secrets.
Time trusts music to bleed clotted regrets.
I feel in these ribs a guitar-shaped vacuum.
I feel these wires: their language is pain.



THE YOUTH PERSPECTIVE

With
Mimi Machakaire


Who is Mimi?



Have you ever asked yourself who is this youth who has kept her column The Youth Perspective alive for some years now? She has inspired many young readers. She loves WIN even though she is now living far from home. When youths seek to make positive impact on society through writing, WIN smiles and offers all the support it can. Still, who is this prolific young writer? In this installment, she tells us about herself.




M

y name is Mimi Machakaire, I am Zimbabwean age 24, currently living in Maseru Lesotho.
I have a diploma in Media Production from the University of Zimbabwe and an Associate Degree in Journalism from Rutherford Hayes University based in the United States of America.
I have been working since I was 17 and published a book called Princess Gangster. At 19, I started working officially doing various online writing for different publications.
However, on turning 21, I began interning for a small news agency in South Africa called E-Health News as a full time reporter.


Memories: 
Mimi Machakaire, holding a copy of her debut book, poses with members of the Matthew Rusike College writers club in Epworth in 2014. The visit was part of WIN Epworth Community Outreach Programme

Almost two years later I moved from South Africa to Lesotho where I interned for a full year, for two local newspapers in Lesotho called Lesotho Times and Sunday Express, as their junior reporter.
Today, I am currently working for an advertising agency called Black Mix Lesotho as their Junior Public Relations Specialist but I am always looking for the next big thing in my career.
In my spare time I write my own blog called Foreign Affairs that is currently in its pilot phase; I am working on making it a little bit better, together with my business partner named Francis Mukuzunga, a Zimbabwean editor at a local newspaper called The Nation in Lesotho. Francis has been in the media for 28 years. His own Media company is called Ubuntu Media and Arts Production with media houses currently located in South AfricaNamibiaZimbabwe and Lesotho. The company makes good use of the social media and performance arts spheres to create jobs, especially for the creative young people worldwide.
He is training me in matters related to design, layout and editing. Therefore, the name might change into something different but as always, we will make an announcement when it is ready and fully functional.
The goal is to turn it into a youth platform that will share stories of extraordinary youth in Lesotho and other forms of businesses and entrepreneurship journeys. This platform will further include other topics based on health, mental health, entertainment and more. The youth by youth platform will start in Lesotho and if all goes well, we will take it worldwide. 

  

THE PREACHER

By Kudakwashe Simbi



He was seen opposite Magaba complex,
Wearing a long swaggerlicious jacket
And the goggles!
He was surrounded by Men of black Mercedes Benz’s,
He carried an Apocrypha,
Which we saw the priest carry when we were young,
And he opened a verse in Thessalonians, saying,
‘He is coming,
Wait for him, for his time will come’.

From a distance, his face shone of hope
But looking closely, his hypocritical face glowed with lies,
He was preaching to people with sad faces,
Hungry faces,
Some with clothes falling apart
And the preacher’s potbelly swayed to and from as he uttered
Humour and sarcasm

Afterwards
There was food,
People waited in a single file
Hoping and hoping for a share



THE LIVING LAW

By Tamutswa Muzana Kundidzora



Technicalities are the gauntlet for many a lazy judge,
They opine over the form of the application,
Spewing out the Rules of court without regard to the subject matter,
As if Rules are an end by themself,
Yet the rules are a mere means to the end.

These positivists!
They stand with the written law,
No matter what injustice is brought by their adherence to the epitaph,
Forgetting that cases are dealt on a casuistic bases,
They bring torture and suffering to the people,
Using the law as a tool to keep the status quo ante


We saw their ilk in South Africa,
Epitomised by the Harris cases,
Where the triers of facts mutated into politicians,
Albeit in judicial robes
They ignored that Roman Dutch law is premised on the natural law,
Whose inconspicuous tenet is fairness and justice,

Was apartheid fair?
If it was not, where was the judiciary?
They all hide behind positivistic theory,
And subscribe the innocuous theory of parliamentary supremacy,
Giving the parliament the leeway to oppress the people
Giving the review powers of the court to the parliament,
With the court reduced to mere followers of the whims of the parliament

It took the courage of Tata Madiba,
Nelson Rohlihlahla Mandela,
Mahatma Gandhi,
To challenge the ubiquitous system,
That was bastardizing the blacks,
With the judiciary casting a blind eye,
Actually the judiciary was an active participant in the oppression of the blacks!

The living law is colour blind,
It favours none
It sings the true mantra that no one is above the law,
Treating citizens equally
According respect to all citizens
Regardless of their station in life,
Arresting those in the top echelons when they transgress the law,
The same way the vagabonds are arrested,
No special treatment for the haves,
As they are equal before the eyes of the law with the have nots

May our judges arise,
Beyond the Rules and dwell on the law,
May they see no difference between the political leaders and the nobodies,
Applying the law equally to those similarly circumstanced
Then the law becomes the law,
The living law



RUDO KANA RUCHIVA?

Na Esther Gusha



Hausiwe here wakandisiya ndichiri kukuda?
Wakacheka-cheka moyo wangu nebanga
Nhasi chashanduka chii zvaunoti wadzoka?

Wakanditsvinyira ndichikuda,
Wakanditsvinyira ini ndakupa moyo wangu,
Uchiti wawana mumwe mudiwa arinani
Waunoda kuroora.
Nhasi chashanduka chii?

Kubva mutsoka kusvika mumusoro wainditarisa
Wozvibvunza mumoyo mako
Kuti ko apa ndakambodeiwo?
Wainditarisa neziso rizere nerusvoro
Saka nhasi chashanduka, chagove chiiko?

Ndiyeni uya wawakabaya moyo nebanga
Ndiyeni uya wawakasiya wawana arinani
Ndati ndikuyeuchidze kuti ndiyeni iye uya
Ndicharamba ndirini iye uya

Wakandibvunza mubvunzonhando iwe
Kuti hakunawo vamwe vanokudawo here?
Uchikanganwa kuti ndiwe wega wakandikumbira rudo
Asi wakandipandukira
Zvino nhasi chashanduka chii?

Rudo here kana ruchiva?
Kuzvikudza here kana kuti kudada?
Wakaiwanepi tendero yakadaro
Yekuita zvaunoda nemoyo yevamwe
Kuibvarura ichisara ichichucha ropa
Wozoda kudzoka pawadira
Chiiko chashanduka pandiri?
Ko zvandichiri ini iye uya



THANK YOU.



SEE YOU IN 2020!













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