2008 Articles 25 Dec Kingdom Come 21 Dec Christmas 15 Dec Step Forward 5 Dec Beginning 1 Dec Amendment 30 Nov Facilitation 26 Nov Genocide 24 Nov Running Out 17 Nov Crisis 15 Nov Somalia 12 Nov What Next? 8 Nov Leadership 2 Nov Chipo 1 Nov Rome Burns 29 Oct Failure 25 Oct High Noon 19 Oct Never Easy 10 Oct Abyss 8 Oct Filibustering 4 Oct Chaos in Zim 29 Sept A Mule? 21 Sept On Step 16 Sept The End 12 Sept New Beginning 11 Sept Deal? 6 Sept Consequences 3 Sept Need a Deal 2 Sept Dollar Died 31 Aug Steering 29 Aug Unstuck 23 Aug Betrayed 18 Aug The Devil 13 Aug 13 Aug 08 12 Aug Today 11 Aug Cliffhanger 8 Aug Whats Going On 27 Jul Progress 22 Jul Agree to talk 21 Jul Mbeki kicks 16 Jul Crunch Time 13 Jul Economics 9 Jul Reality Looms 2 Jul Where? 30 Jun Looking Glass 26 Jun Battle 22 Jun What Now? 21 Jun The Commitment 16 Jun Do or Die 13 Jun Morning After 10 Jun Closing Doors 26 May Current Outlook 24 May Fan Club 19 May Tyranny 17 May End Game 15 May Flushing 8 May Violence 6 May Bizarre Process 25 Apr Cornered 20 Apr Electoral Fraud 19 Apr Jesse 17 Apr This Farce 11 Apr The Devil 6 Apr Wounded Buffalo 1 Apr Dying Kick 31 Mar Politcl Tsunami 27 Mar Current Situ. 26 Mar 4 days to go 21 Mar 8 days to go 15 Mar Election Time 27 Feb Games Begin 17 Feb Public Office 11 Feb Choices 4 Feb Decision Time 26 Jan Ambushed 25 Jan The Struggle 20 Jan Truth or Fiction 12 Jan Mugabe Mistake 8 Jan Surprise 2 Jan Kenya Lessons
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4 Days to Go
Those of you who have lived here know the magic spell that Africa
casts. The
other night I went out into the garden, it was a brilliant night, clear
sky
and the stars just blazed across the sky - a sweep of stars in the
Milky
Way. In the east the moon was rising - a golden orb, bright yellow
and
casting its glow over everything. We have a huge Fiscus Capensis in the
garden and under it a small Lapa under thatch.
I sat there for a while. A Nightjar was just behind me and called, that
distinctive night call that is never to be forgotten, once heard. The
air
was clean and fresh grass smells plus the other sounds that so
characterize
the African evening - tree frogs, crickets, even the odd bird
deceived by
the bright moonlight.
I thought back over the past 150 years to the lives of my Great
Grandfather
who landed at the Cape in 1867 and who married his Irish wife before
coming
out to a foreign land to help spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Going
on to
fight in the Griqwa wars, then in the Boer War against the British,
founding
several Churches that still stand today. My Grandfather who was a
lawyer and
a Magistrate - riding the rural districts and hearing cases, married
to a
matriarch who towered over the family who sent for me imperiously when
I got
married - just a letter saying she would 'see us both for tea' on
such and
such a day and time. No acknowledgement that my new wife and I were
1200
kilometers away - 150 kms off the road and living on the edge of the
Zambezi
escarpment.
My Grandfather who served in the South African government up to the
time
when the Nationalists took over in 1949 and perhaps died of
disappointment
three years later but always believing in South Africa and in the basic
strength of the Afrikaner whom he said to me as a small boy 'would
one day
put the situation right and regret the damage they had done to their
country
and its people'.
I thought about my mother with only 2 years of formal schooling,
raising a
family of five and having to carry the whole burden when her first
husband
died and then later when my father failed the family and became an
alcoholic. My father, who should have been a professor of History
somewhere,
who was the Chief Executive of a fuel company and then fell to the
demon
drink and eventually recovered and rose to a senior position in the
Railways. Loving the theatre and producing shows right through the
Second
World War.
The many friends I had lost in our civil war and its aftermath. The
huge
struggle to achieve a just society, first under the Smith era and then
under
Mugabe. So much time and effort wasted, so much potential lost. But
still
Africa remains a constant and consistent companion. Who can forget the
vast
sweep of the veld, the grandeur of the storms that bring life in
summer, the
golden sea of ripe grassland and green trees in late summer and the
colors
and smells of the long winters?
The friendliness and openness of African society - a people who smile
and
greet you and say sorry when you hurt. The warm hospitality that is the
hallmark of Africa - not for us the stern unsmiling masses on transit
trains. We sing and dance at the slightest provocation. But we also
kill and
maim without compunction when aggrieved.
It is a continent where the roar of a lion and the soft call of a
nightjar
can be heard at the same time. More and more to me, this is my real
home.
Anywhere else I am a stranger. I am white, cannot help that. I come
from
tough Irish stock. I cannot help that. I was born into a society that
is
very much in transition - cannot help that. What I can do is to work
for
change and development in the land of my birth and that is what I am
doing.
I sat there and thought about my family - my son and daughter with
their
families in Harare, my long suffering wife who had never shaken hands
with a
black man before she married me and now seldom does anything else. She
has
defended my politics and me and gone to jail for human rights and who
now
worries about me when I am out on political activities and under
threats of
one kind or another.
But in the end it all comes down to this unforgettable African
experience -
the quiet nights under an open sky with a nightjar and frogs to keep me
company. The old women who walked 7 kilometers to watch me fight to be
nominated as their candidate for Parliament and who now campaign for me
in
my constituency. Those toothy smiles and the warm embraces and the
countless
offers of help of every sort.
We are growing up - Europe went through this torture and change
hundreds of
years ago, it is our turn. Of course there is suffering and pain -
there is
no music without it, but at the same time there is a rich reward in
terms of
our combined human experience. What a rich life we live, a life like
none
other.
The campaign is reaching its peak. Morgan spoke at a huge rally on
Sunday -
I looked over the sea of faces and open hands with red cards in them
and
thought about how much they expect from us. They want an escape from
the
nightmare of Robert Mugabe and the chance to start afresh. We are their
only
hope of that new beginning. Can we deliver that I thought? I worry
about the
expectations, all those hungry people, those derelict farms, the empty
factories and closed mines.
Mugabe demanded that the Presidential ballot be counted in Harare -
ZEC told
them that this was not a lawful instruction! They reduced the numbers
of
polling stations in urban areas, potentially denying us the right to
vote.
ZEC simply stepped in and decided to open two polling stations at urban
polling centers. This week we had activists arrested and beaten by the
CIO.
The Police reacted by threatening the CIO operatives with arrest and
prosecution. I went into complain about a political Party defacing our
posters - the Dispol asked if we wanted to pursue Zanu PF for pulling
our
posters down!
Saturday is D-day for Zimbabwe. Everyone knows it - even Robert
Mugabe. But
the crucial test will come on Sunday when we announce the results and
demand
that Morgan Tsvangirai take over as State President. Mugabe has said he
will
never, will never allow it to happen. We need to remind him of another
man
who said 'never in a 1000 years.'
Eddie Cross
Bulawayo, 25th March 2008
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