In The Black Dawn
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The Black Dawn, is an era that came with alarming rates of unemployment, sky-rocketing hyper inflation, sluggish economic growth, poor health and poverty to an optimistic, innocent and non-violent society. The majority pointed fingers at the government’s policy incongruity, political discontent and new forms of law that seem to have been crafted, twisted and turned to benefit a few and silence concerned voices and competent idealists. In the process, casual analysts took to blaming the government for failing to balance a dominant gap between skills offered by the tertiary education and skills required to rejuvenate the nation’s staggering economy.
To survive, being victims of brutal circumstances, the youth dropped out of school just like active men and women left their homes in search of a means to survive. A dire need to survive and support their impoverished families was the push factor, and soon they joined the forerunners through dangerous routes only to survive spine breaking and heart withering experiences. Feeling completely neglected by their own administration, they could discuss, commend and criticise policies, voicing their opinions about what they felt. Many suffered and still suffer the same torment. Who is to blame remains a burning question.
To warn victims of the same fate and applaud responsive and supportive democratic governments, the remnants have risen to tell the untold stories of the ordeal beyond borders.
“This is a thought-provoking piece of work and is a tribute to all economic asylum seekers and unregistered refugees. It should induce new empathy for people existing under such dreadful conditions where the search for greener pastures and new beginnings has led to death, abduction, poverty and many other trials and tribulations. It is based on the true story of a young man who illegally migrated from his mother country, Zimbabwe, on account of major economic challenges. However, just like many others, he entered the Southern state through the back door to endure a regrettable experience. This action packed account allows the characters to engage in frequent meaningful conversations involving political situations and general conditions, bringing these pertinent details home successfully.”
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In The Black Dawn - Owen Mapuranga
IN THE BLACK DAWN
MORE THAN A DECADE AND A HALF IN ECLIPSE
IN THE BLACK DAWN
MORE THAN A DECADE AND A HALF IN ECLIPSE
Owen Mapuranga
Copyright © 2017 Owen Mapuranga
Published by Owen Mapuranga Publishing at Smashwords
First edition 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.
The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.
Published by the Author using Reach Publishers’ services,
P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631
Edited by Noreen Thomson for Reach Publishers
Cover designed by Reach Publishers
Website: www.reachpublishers.co.za
E-mail: reach@webstorm.co.za
A law abused is a priviledge for a few of those who crafted it and guard it at the expense of the majority who direly deserve to be fairly served by it.
History
"Bad history never reported and recorded once in a lifetime is history bound to repeat itself more severely than before."
Blameworthy men
"Scapegoatism and paranoia is the culpable man’s supreme source of defence and a master key to success without guilt or reproach."
Revolution
"A revolution without evolution is merely the product of dogmatism and despotism. It exposes the stark naked machinery of social injustice, severe poverty, laggard conditions, physical and psychological suffering to an innocent and nonviolent society."
(Author)
Optimism
"Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable." (Voltaire)
Reconciliation
"Hatred, revenge, bitterness…these are negative emotions. The person harbouring these emotions suffers the most"
(Ahmed Kathrada).
Mental attitude
"The hardest thing to open is a closed mind"
(Ahmed Kathrada).
Education and leadership
"Our graduation takes place in the midst of challenging times…to be a leader you have to make people believe that there is a better way than the status quo"
(Thuli Madonsela March 2017)
Contents
In the Black dawn
Preface
Summary
Prologue
Chapter 1
The Departure
Chapter 2
The Ominous Cross Over
Chapter 3
Gone Astray in the Wilderness
Chapter 4
The Ranger’s Live Bullet
Chapter 5
Harvest Celebration
Chapter 6
The City of Gold
Chapter 7
The Trouble
Chapter 8
The Abduction
Chapter 9
The Debauched Morning
Chapter 10
In Cape Town
Chapter 11
The Take Down
Chapter 12
The Dialogue
In the Black dawn:
More than a decade and a half in eclipse
Poem by Owen Mapuranga
Beyond, the river mighty man!
A strange voice screams
A voice of a helpless man
A bliss craving man
Struggling to survive a gruesome crocodile attack
With His troubled heart longing for Zululand!
He lost his pound of flesh
And his precious blood gushed out
His last ounce of power drew out
Leaving him in the world of unconsciousness
Expectantly waiting for the Good Samaritan to arrive
And in the thicket bushes of Kruger
A pathetic lament is heard
A woman full of desire for a new beginning
Mourning her cold friend
Lying in dismantled morsels
Scattered in numerous carcasses
Pricelessly butchered and dined by a lion pride
With her innocent heart longing for a new beginning
In his way
The pursuer is caught in a net
Shocked by scattered skeletons lying everywhere in purple bras and pink pants
Ragged overalls and golf T-shirts painted with blood
All hanged on thorn bushes by free wild winds
And along the cursed banks of Limpopo river
I witnessed a miserable cry
An inimitable cry of a desperate teen
Befallen by the trouble of heartless men
Mercenary villains
The reapers from without
Shamelessly revealing their cruel faces
Filthily arrayed with naked brutality
Raping and killing their own kind
Leaving their bodies unburied for the hyenas to feast
From the north
Hunger and starvation menaced
Forcing the populace to flock down to the south
With slug striking past their covered heads
And with all their determination
They fled the scene
Leaving a lasting funeral dirge behind
Over and over again!
The exodus wanders in the forest
Playing a gruesome hide and seek with hungry jungle predators
Until they pricked in the rainbow nation through its fortified backdoors
And like an orphaned calf lost in the famous Drakensberg pastures
Waiting for the return of its lifeless mother
We have waited for the sun that never pitched with promise
The new day that consumed our remaining hope
And now that we have fallen
Shall we rise again?
Yes!
We say
Though in the hope of no confidence
We still look to the clouds with higher expectation and smiles all over our faces
For the instincts have spoken that,
With fortitude there is still a chance to survive bundled in our somber
Another chance to speak to be heard
A huge chance to reclaim our shattered rights and soiled dignity
That above the sun we will arise again
Over and over again!
With strong hearts and desire to live
The fortunate remnant persisted to the south
To exist
And share the testimony
And now that I have said it
Shall I survive my cry for a lost and forgotten humanitarian charter?
When they start calling me a naked imperialist
A faint hearted flag-waver
And a sell out
Preface
This literature has been placed on record as a tribute to all economic asylum seekers, dead or alive, who left their countries in search of greener pastures and new beginnings. It is intended to be an accolade to South Africa, the home of the rainbow nation
, for all its efforts towards the containment of Africa’s ravaging socio-economic quandary. The accommodation of ever-escalating numbers of both legal and illegal foreigners who relentlessly pour into all its provinces is an on-going challenge.
This book has been written for record-keeping, future reference, and as a warning to all those who dare leave their mother countries without proper documentation. Without that, there is death, abduction, poverty and many other trials and tribulations in store. In this publication I wish to honour all legitimate governments who take the necessary steps to protect their citizens. Integrity, the provision of optimal care, responsiveness, a good sense of responsibility, respect of the constitution and the declaration of human rights are all criteria which need to be addressed.
Summary
In The Black Dawn is a fictional book based on the true story of a young man who illegally migrated from his mother country, Zimbabwe, on account of major economic challenges. Besides the devastating political unrest, the country’s prospects of providing employment, health services and adequate food deteriorated alarmingly. However, just like many others, he crossed to the south and entered the state through the back door to endure a regrettable experience. Many of his companions died, were kidnapped, raped and killed for no reason.
He was left with a post-traumatic question, Are we suffering at the expense of our government’s negligence, poor economic policies or simply a natural phenomenon?
If not so, what is it then? During his agonising experience he entered a sinking ship that brought him freedom – a reward for his unshakable courage. He never stopped worrying as he continued to see thousands upon thousands of his countrymen, and many others like them, suffering the same torment. Who is to blame remains a burning question.
Inspired by the Following Published Stories
Crocodile
Machete
Sometimes in April
This writing is based on the fact that bad history never recorded once in a lifetime, is history bound to repeat itself more severely than before.
Prologue
When I was young we would spend one shiny silver dollar coin at a time on our groceries. Embellished with a picture of the Great Zimbabwe, this coin could purchase a fat loaf of bread, a packet of sugar, eggs, butter and some fruit for dessert. As the son of the bread basket
, I never went to sleep on an empty stomach. We were blessed by amazing weather conditions in that era as plentiful rains fell according to season. Farm products, whether from the subsistence farmers’ plots or the commercial farmers’ thousand hectares, were abundant and of high quality. There was no hunger and starvation was unheard of! Famine was just a momentary rumour waiting to move in and dwell within our boundaries.
It was not so long before the entire nation was consumed in the black dawn. This occurred when the sun set on smiling faces and rose with stifling darkness that perpetually claimed our joy. Social and economic poverty forced many, including me, to flock from the north down to the south through deadly and extremely dangerous routes. My country’s strong economy was shattered by the punitive economic sanctions, if not our own frail polices, that left all forms of industry reeling and giving birth to a rare breed of unemployment. Whether illiterate or in possession of a university degree, as I was, gaining employment was as difficult as catching a goldfish with a piece of hookless twine!
Big cities have an insatiable thirst for potable water and my lovely, compelling Harare and Bulawayo boasted plentiful water supplies and all the necessary equipment. However, with the onset of the black dawn, taps ran dry from days to weeks, weeks to months, then years. Heaps of refuse, potholes and deep puddles of stagnant water became permanent features on sidewalks, verges, roundabouts and highways. Nothing is as difficult as driving long distances navigating potholes and piles of smelly garbage. Gabriella, a pedestrian, pondered over the problem as she picked her way through the mess. It was evident that all municipal constitutions had become constitutions without constitutionalism. But was that their problem? If it was not their problem, then whose was it?
Public hospitals experienced major problems as cholera struck with a vengeance. Teachers were striking and both private and public companies were downsizing at an alarming rate. Poor service delivery and inflation reached new heights, leaving all public institutions subject to severe criticism. In fact they became the worst enemy of the public.
However, similar to the biblical Jeremiah, I felt a burning fire within my bones as I watched my own money, precious currency and ultimate symbol of fiscal excellence, losing value. With my heart longing for our fatherland, I saw the economic vertebrae disintegrating into fine debris. Like many, I hoped for radical change but in the intense arctic heat wave of the black dawn, I didn’t stand a chance.
That is what forced me to hop onto the train of no hope, which took me from bad to worse. Some say that with perseverance through thick and thin, one will rise to fame. Unfortunately, the challenges I faced were too heavy to bear. I least expected what I faced when I entered South Africa illegally. There was a time when I felt as if I had run away from a police camp straight into the fortified dungeon of Bastille, in the heart of Johannesburg.
July 2009
I remember Luis, a white man, the first Johannesburger I met in South Africa. He was poor and owned a dilapidated complex which needed a vast amount of maintenance. How are you Sir?
I greeted him respectfully. Are you also from Zimbabwe?
He answered me with a carefree smile playing on his charming lips, I’m from Portugal,
he volunteered before I even asked.
Oh, that’s good! How is the economy performing back in your country?
I asked him curiously.
Oh my friend, the economy is up and down - to and fro, just like the waves of the ocean,
Luis replied with a worried look on his face.
We are suffering in Zimbabwe, man! Our economy is going one way,
commented Joyce, one of his tenants.
Even if you go to America today, there are still people sleeping under bridges. Fly to London and you will find people living on the streets and eating from the refuse bins. Right in the middle of Paris there are people desperate for employment and right here in Africa, mansions can be seen everywhere. No country is perfectly balanced with regard to the basic principles of social and economic development,
replied Luis thoughtfully.
So when did you come to Africa?
asked Melissa.
I left my country in 1979 to join the Smith regime’s RF in Rhodesia because there were no jobs in Portugal. I could work once a week, if I was lucky. At that time, the unemployment rate was about 11% higher than it is now,
the conceited man guesstimated. Life is good when you have a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes to wear and enough money to spend on your desires,
he added.
There must be a reason why you are the only Portuguese man amongst fifteen Zimbabweans, six Mozambicans and four Malawians. If I am correct, I heard you mention the reason why you left Portugal in 1979,
said Mazvita, the other tenant. Just like you, we are here to look for jobs because there is no work for the general public back home. Only a few groups of noble people or members of syndicates can enjoy all the Zimbabwean privileges. No country is perfect, but my country is far more imperfect than others.
I graduated from school ten years ago but I never had a chance to work. None of the banks back home had an account in my name as I could never enjoy what I deserved. All I wanted was an opportunity to earn and pay taxes like others. I never had the money to thank my parents for sacrificing all they had in order to pay for my schooling. The only person who ever worked in my family was my father, a teacher, who sent the five of us to school yet none of us was fortunate enough to find employment. Just imagine, well educated as I am still relying on my sixty-eight-year-old father’s pension handouts at this active age of twenty-five!
exclaimed Joyce shaking her braided head.
Chapter 1
The Departure
It was summertime in mid August when I left Zimbabwe, my lovely home country, for South Africa. Just like many of my peers, staying at home, hanging my degree on the wall and watching the sun rising and setting was no longer entertaining. Without allowing anyone into my secret, I prepared my backpack before kissing my little six-year-old sister Nana good-bye. God bless you, little bug,
I whispered in her ear and looked straight into her eyes.
It didn’t actually sit well with me that I was really leaving our home, a place where I was born and bred, only because of situational forces. I walked up and down the corridors, sat on the chairs one after the other, switched on the TV and finally sat down. All I heard from the gadget was terrible noise as I was busy fighting with my will and imagination. Eventually, I swiftly grabbed my weightless bag and reluctantly walked out.
Are you okay? Why are you going wearing your special Christmas clothes?
asked the astonished, caring little girl.
Never mind, but when Ma is back just tell her I will be back soon,
I shouted to my little sister who never stopped staring at me as I walked out of the