Reflecting on unity, violence and peace
THERE exists in all of us, that goodness which cannot be constrained, no matter how bad others may view us, or we pretend to be.
Curiously, as human beings we are capable of bringing as much harm on others as we bring on ourselves. We may hurt others, but we are not immune to hurt. What qualifies our being is that we are guided by conscience, because after all, deep inside, we are good people.
As the Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung (1875-1961), once said: “Deep down, below the surface of the average man’s conscience, he hears a voice whispering, ‘ There is something not right,’ no matter how much his rightness is supported by public opinion or moral code.”
True, we may have our differences. We may face challenges. We may have grievances. And, we may be discontented, even, but there is something wrong with the way we sometimes express our gripes.
Something is not right in the way we at times clamour for an eye for an eye. It only makes us all blind.
As the harmonised elections beckon, the need arises for us to find each other, even in our divergent ways. We should appeal to our consciences; after all, we are good people.
President Mnangagwa’s dream has always been unity, prosperity and peace for the people, for these are what consolidate the economic freedoms enshrined in the struggle that gave us the nation-State of Zimbabwe.
All that we cherish and aspire for as a people only thrive in a peaceful environment, because violence only begets violence, either physically, psychologically, emotionally, or mentally.
Without peace we are doomed, and with doom comes hopelessness and strife.
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and WhatsApp “heroes”, who beam the firestorms of the blasts in our midst, and the eruptions of our dreams, through gold-rimmed lenses, and project them on gigantic global screens on the anthills of our toil, over glasses of whisky, and in whiffs of rich cigar smoke, are not what we aspire for.
Such social media “heroes” should be ignored, for they are divorced from the reality of our land; the reality of our struggles. Concerning bread and butter issues, they speak in forked tongues, knowing which side their bread is buttered.
Coming to matters of war, oftentimes, nuclear weapons are projected as being more perilous when they are in the possession of supposedly smaller and insignificant states, and less lethal if they are in the hands of mighty ones.
Either for single or mass destruction, all weapons are dangerous, for their main purpose is to destroy and nothing else. War is brutal, for it is in its nature that no one wins. All are losers!
Is it not mind-boggling that negotiations the world over would never come to fruition without the use of coercion? All peace truces are an outcome of conflict through wars — bloodied peace. But should it always be like that?
As a global village, as a nation, therefore, we should enlighten ourselves and our young people on the essence of peace, not by snatching explosives from them, but by impressing on them that nothing has ever been born of violence, except more violence.
Weapons are dangerous, no matter whose hands they are in.
Truly, hope is the aviator of our dreams, without which all our aspirations are doomed.
As certainly as the sun rises in the morrow, as indisputably as death flourishes in life, and as truthfully as hurt and love are bedfellows, hope always prevails over doom.
Hope should always be given a chance, although many a time it may seem hopeless. However, in the absence of will and peace, hope withers and perishes in the dry season of collective toil. Indeed, pain is the forerunner to gain, moss the zenith of loss; and the rainbow, God’s promise not to bring another deluge of Noah’s days, comes after a storm. Taken, we all want to be happy and lead fruitful lives, but who is responsible for that happiness, or its absence in our lives? Happiness is a condition, or state of mind rather, whose existence cannot be hidden, but whose source is ensconced in our hearts, no matter how many heartbreaks life may have dealt us from its deck of cards. There are seasons in life, different seasons, surely, with each of them coming as a result of the receding and passing of another. Such is the circle of life. We plant our flowers in the rainy season hoping that the dry period may not see us napping, without giving much heed to the tempests that come with the rains. Characteristic of the rainy season, raging storms may scuttle our hopes, uprooting them and exposing them for all and sundry to have a field day at our expense, yet all our fears manifest in the dry season. Nonetheless, can it be trite to say it is the dry season which teaches us to store our grain, and to pick the best seeds in preparation for the vagaries that nature strews our way? A good flower is not determined by the way it blooms in spring, nor the way it luxuriates in summer, but by the way it withstands the dry season. If it is born of a weak seed that cracks open in the wake of the scorching sun, then the farmer’s joy is only ephemeral. Fate gives no man no choice, as life deals cards randomly, making every hand a winner, and every hand equally a loser. It is up to all of us to turn the odds to our favour by playing well those cards dealt us and paying close attention to how others play theirs. Downpours may seem to be meant for us in equal measure to the shimmering sun on our sprouting flowers, but it is in such situations that our mettle is tested.
And, to start with, fellow countrymen and friends, reflect on what makes us one — our nationhood. We are citizens of a country known as Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe is our birth right, our Motherland, and the only homeland that belongs to us and we belong to.
There is no other land that we can lay claim to, no matter how well-travelled we may be, and there is no other nation that can claim us either, for national flags are not mere flapping cloths to be pulled down, changed and hoisted again. They are emblems of a people’s honour, which can neither be exchanged for gold nor hollow social media “likes”, no matter the odds at stake.
Therefore, fellow countrymen, wherever you are, locate yourself in the miasmic orbit that takes your dreams to heights untold, knowing that as an individual your achievements count to nothing. As a nation, our possibilities are limitless if our desire is to be better than we were yesterday — together.
It may be worth our while if we shun individualism, deceit, avarice and violence, because no nation thrives in strife.
Although we may be clad in diverse garbs, and have our own distinct melodies, we can reach a therapeutic crescendo if our telepathy leads us to a musical cirque that resonates with shared hope.
If we own up to our shortcomings, it is possible to redeem ourselves from the jaws of the monster that creeps from within our bellies — an orgy of our creation. It is this that checkmates outside interference for the greater good of our nation.
As the clock chimes on towards the 2023 harmonised elections, we should embrace each other as a nation, and desist from erecting ethnic and racial bars against each other as siblings are wont to do.
Hence, our pride as a people comes from the understanding that gouging out each other’s eyes only makes us all blind, for constructive divergent views do not always constitute enmity.