Opinion / Columnist
How to live a rewarding life in Diaspora
15 Jan 2017 at 04:55hrs | Views
In the middle of exponential economic discontentment in Zimbabwe 2017, it's a good thing to admonish our children who are increasingly fleeing the country into Diaspora. Those who have a time to listen will go back to Zimbabwe wealthy one day. And, as most frequently, those who reject advice will add to current weekly statistics, of coffins and deportees repatriated back to Zimbabwe.
In 1989 I left Zimbabwe, dreaming of coming back to a revived country after things would have settled. On visiting Zimbabwe bearing a new identity in 1993, I found out that my contract with Diaspora needed to be tightened more than the aspired loosening. As a young man of 23, I was feeling lost on issues of life like how I was going to have children on foreign lands? What kind of girl I would marry? Where I would build a house and how long it would take for Zimbabwe to become a happily habitable and rewarding country.
Today after 27 years, three of my four children cannot say a sentence in my native language. I have become a fully licenced citizen of Diaspora. When I was busy collaborating for the destruction of Colonialism in the 70's, I was promised a rewarding country that would be free from unfair practices. That promise was not completely lost, it was fulfilled in the most bizarre and unexpected way. It was realised in Diaspora outside the walls of scenic Dzimbabwe.
During the Liberation struggle in the 70's, I would pray nearly every second I blinked my eye, to ask God to make me survive until the end of the war where I would enjoy a fulfilling life. The God of promise did not give me a hint that he would fulfil my prayers but, in different countries called Diaspora.
I learnt many years ago, in South Africa, that the beautiful white teeth that God implanted in me are my only best tool to survive in places where I have no relatives. I took time to brush my teeth every morning and wore a smile in public places. I would spend my day working hard and beaming my teeth to catch the appreciation of my hosts.
A contrived smile grew to become the common habit of my mouth. I got the first favour, first preference and the first one to be noticed because of a naturally enduring and contagious smile. When the public smiled back in reciprocation to my smile, I found the whole World smiling in front of me. I got best jobs, best friends, best favours, best places in a country where people where killing each other violently and unemployment was rampant. The smile taught my habits to strive for perfection and I became perceived as a good man.
When I moved to the United Kingdom in 2000, my white and experienced teeth translated into jobs, friends, a good social life and, of cause, inflated financial rewards.
Diaspora taught me to be a nice person. Every time someone presents traces of injustice to me, I have taught my psyches to compare injustices in Britain with those in Zimbabwe. As a human being, I do, sometimes get angry, but, the small reminding voice of the magnitude of deprivation in Zimbabwe brings me back to my senses. I have become an expert in restraining and rationalising my emotions.
If I work hard, and get recognised less, I always think about those in Zimbabwe who work so hard and never even get recognised. I think about those in Zimbabwe who, with or without money, cannot access good hospitals. I think about my patriotic fellow-countrymen with whom we were collaborators in the Liberation struggle and yet they die of hunger, poverty, anger, potholes, lawlessness, curable diseases and perpetual hopelessness. I regret my Diaspora children who can't even speak my language and yet, given the circumstances, I can never subject them to a country where they could end up ladies of the night in Harare.
Every morning I pray to God to help me keep smiling for the good of my children. I avoid potential trouble; I do not allow myself to get angry. I have learnt to view anger as a natural response for anyone who has been wronged, but not for those who get wronged in other people's countries. No one has ever seen my anger in 27 years. I have seen Zimbabwean Heroes in Diaspora who get angry as if they were home, but, I have also stood as a witness to their abrupt demise.
It is my advice to young Zimbabweans who are increasingly getting disgruntled by Zimbabwean life and opting to go to Diaspora, to prepare themselves to be nice citizens in countries they choose to go and settle. Temperance is a virtue, if you get lost, stop, think and choose "good" in a World so full of "bad". You will submerge victorious where you are expected to walk out in shame as a Zimbabwean immigrant.
In 1989 I left Zimbabwe, dreaming of coming back to a revived country after things would have settled. On visiting Zimbabwe bearing a new identity in 1993, I found out that my contract with Diaspora needed to be tightened more than the aspired loosening. As a young man of 23, I was feeling lost on issues of life like how I was going to have children on foreign lands? What kind of girl I would marry? Where I would build a house and how long it would take for Zimbabwe to become a happily habitable and rewarding country.
Today after 27 years, three of my four children cannot say a sentence in my native language. I have become a fully licenced citizen of Diaspora. When I was busy collaborating for the destruction of Colonialism in the 70's, I was promised a rewarding country that would be free from unfair practices. That promise was not completely lost, it was fulfilled in the most bizarre and unexpected way. It was realised in Diaspora outside the walls of scenic Dzimbabwe.
During the Liberation struggle in the 70's, I would pray nearly every second I blinked my eye, to ask God to make me survive until the end of the war where I would enjoy a fulfilling life. The God of promise did not give me a hint that he would fulfil my prayers but, in different countries called Diaspora.
I learnt many years ago, in South Africa, that the beautiful white teeth that God implanted in me are my only best tool to survive in places where I have no relatives. I took time to brush my teeth every morning and wore a smile in public places. I would spend my day working hard and beaming my teeth to catch the appreciation of my hosts.
A contrived smile grew to become the common habit of my mouth. I got the first favour, first preference and the first one to be noticed because of a naturally enduring and contagious smile. When the public smiled back in reciprocation to my smile, I found the whole World smiling in front of me. I got best jobs, best friends, best favours, best places in a country where people where killing each other violently and unemployment was rampant. The smile taught my habits to strive for perfection and I became perceived as a good man.
When I moved to the United Kingdom in 2000, my white and experienced teeth translated into jobs, friends, a good social life and, of cause, inflated financial rewards.
Diaspora taught me to be a nice person. Every time someone presents traces of injustice to me, I have taught my psyches to compare injustices in Britain with those in Zimbabwe. As a human being, I do, sometimes get angry, but, the small reminding voice of the magnitude of deprivation in Zimbabwe brings me back to my senses. I have become an expert in restraining and rationalising my emotions.
If I work hard, and get recognised less, I always think about those in Zimbabwe who work so hard and never even get recognised. I think about those in Zimbabwe who, with or without money, cannot access good hospitals. I think about my patriotic fellow-countrymen with whom we were collaborators in the Liberation struggle and yet they die of hunger, poverty, anger, potholes, lawlessness, curable diseases and perpetual hopelessness. I regret my Diaspora children who can't even speak my language and yet, given the circumstances, I can never subject them to a country where they could end up ladies of the night in Harare.
Every morning I pray to God to help me keep smiling for the good of my children. I avoid potential trouble; I do not allow myself to get angry. I have learnt to view anger as a natural response for anyone who has been wronged, but not for those who get wronged in other people's countries. No one has ever seen my anger in 27 years. I have seen Zimbabwean Heroes in Diaspora who get angry as if they were home, but, I have also stood as a witness to their abrupt demise.
It is my advice to young Zimbabweans who are increasingly getting disgruntled by Zimbabwean life and opting to go to Diaspora, to prepare themselves to be nice citizens in countries they choose to go and settle. Temperance is a virtue, if you get lost, stop, think and choose "good" in a World so full of "bad". You will submerge victorious where you are expected to walk out in shame as a Zimbabwean immigrant.
Source - Ryton Dzimiri
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