Opinion / Columnist
Chimanimani will never be the same again
03 Apr 2019 at 15:03hrs | Views
The thought of 'lost in a nightmarish reverie soon' gave way to reality of unparalleled disaster, in no time I was in pitch black darkness, injured and alone.
Super time had come and gone like any other day, my family had retired to bed at our mountainside village, a marvel and envy to many.
The cattle pen holding ten fat cows and a prized bull, a true picture of rural wealth and contentment. News of a possible cyclone coming our way had not nudged anyone to think beyond the ordinary black clouds and windy days.
Around 9 pm a thundering sound tore through the night, sound that could jolt someone from an injury induced coma. In no time huge rocks, mud and water rushed down the mountainside sending everything in its way tumbling down the slope.
Cries of anguish and despair filled the air as if competing with thunder. My bed had disappeared from under me and in its place was mud and rocks flowing like lava from an active volcano.
I groped in the dark for my young brother in vain, a flash of lightening showed no standing structure, cattle and neighbours all gone. I lay flat and as if dipped in chocolate with mud, my leg broken, clothes torn away and very numb.
I drifted into unconsciousness and only came around at the sound of an approaching army chopper after sunrise. The smell of death wafting across the slope, Chimanimani was my home. Cyclone Idai, why me?
Thomas Murisa. Chinehasha.
Super time had come and gone like any other day, my family had retired to bed at our mountainside village, a marvel and envy to many.
The cattle pen holding ten fat cows and a prized bull, a true picture of rural wealth and contentment. News of a possible cyclone coming our way had not nudged anyone to think beyond the ordinary black clouds and windy days.
Around 9 pm a thundering sound tore through the night, sound that could jolt someone from an injury induced coma. In no time huge rocks, mud and water rushed down the mountainside sending everything in its way tumbling down the slope.
I groped in the dark for my young brother in vain, a flash of lightening showed no standing structure, cattle and neighbours all gone. I lay flat and as if dipped in chocolate with mud, my leg broken, clothes torn away and very numb.
I drifted into unconsciousness and only came around at the sound of an approaching army chopper after sunrise. The smell of death wafting across the slope, Chimanimani was my home. Cyclone Idai, why me?
Thomas Murisa. Chinehasha.
Source - Thomas Murisa.
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