On the 18th of April, as Zimbabwe celebrated yet another year of independence, I found myself in a moment of reflection—one of those deep, stare-at-the-ceiling type reflections. You know the kind that hits you somewhere between a plate of sadza and a national anthem chorus?
As people posted flags, selfies in traditional attire, and captions like “Proudly Zimbabwean”, I remembered a conversation I had with my father back when I was in Grade Six.
“Daddy, what happened to your legs?”
He looked at me for a moment, paused—then said, “In 1977, I was fighting in the liberation war in Mozambique. We didn’t have boots. No socks. We were just barefoot freedom fighters, moving through bush and swamp. And in those trenches, worms—matenkenya—would burrow into our skin and stay there.”
As a 12-year-old, I almost screamed, “WORMS?!”
Yes, worms, comrades. Not the ones you bait with during fishing trips. The persistent ones. The ones that remind you every step that freedom isn’t free.
He told me of days without food, gunfire exchanges, missed death by inches, and how he once survived by eating roasted roots he didn’t even know the name of.
I thought to myself, this guy didn’t survive war just for me to be sleeping during Monday motivation. ��
The Other Side of Independence
But then he added something even heavier:
“Yes, we won political independence. But we are still not economically free. We’re still dependent on others. Foreign currency. Foreign aid. Foreign validation. I’m old now—I may not witness full economic freedom. But you? You still have time. It’s now your fight.”
Now, imagine hearing that from your father who literally walked barefoot through gunfire. The guilt I felt the next time I complained about a slow WiFi connection was unmatched.
Why I Work on Holidays (and You Should Too… Sometimes)
So here’s my philosophy: If my father gave up his comfort for our political freedom, what excuse do I have not to give up my Saturday nap for Zimbabwe’s economic future?
We can’t all be in government. We can’t all start factories. But we can all DO SOMETHING.
Here’s why I believe I must (and we must) contribute to building Zimbabwe’s economy:
1. Because We Have Only One Zimbabwe
You can’t apply for a replacement. You can relocate, yes, but try telling your new passport that you used to eat Matemba under a mango tree. Zimbabwe is ours. We either build it or keep complaining until we’re old and bitter with no legacy.
2. Because Economic Emancipation is the Real Freedom
Political freedom without economic muscle is like driving a Benz with no fuel. We won the car in 1980, but we’re still pushing it in 2025. It’s time to fuel it—with productivity, innovation, entrepreneurship, and good old hard work.
3. Because Unemployment is an Unforgivable Crime
We are one of the most literate nations in Africa. Yet half of us are unemployed or underemployed. That’s not just a stat—it’s someone’s daughter at home with a degree and no job. Let’s build businesses that hire. Let’s create opportunities that inspire.
4. Because the Diaspora Can Only Do So Much
Yes, they send money. Yes, they build houses. But they don’t vote. They don’t innovate here. They don’t employ thousands back home. We, the ones here, must carry the day-to-day torch.
5. Because No Investor Will Believe in What We Don’t Build
Investors don’t invest in dreams; they invest in action. If we can’t build trust in our own country’s potential, how can we expect outsiders to do it for us?
What Does This Mean for Me?
It means I work during Easter holidays.
It means I’m in meetings when everyone else is at a braai.
It means I say “No” to some comforts so I can say “Yes” to building something that lasts.
And no, it’s not because I’m a workaholic or I hate resting (I actually love a good plate of chicken and a nap). It’s because I remember what my father said:
“It’s now up to you.”
Final Thoughts (Before You Go Back to Scrolling TikTok ����)
We may have differences—tribes, opinions, political views, even football teams—but we only have ONE Zimbabwe. Whether you’re in IT, farming, retail, mining, or fashion—do your part.
Let’s become economic freedom fighters.
Let’s build businesses, create jobs, mentor others, and tell stories that matter.
So next time you’re tempted to “chill this weekend,” just remember:
My father fought worms… What’s your excuse?
