My son stopped speaking to me when he was 21. He said I had been physically present while growing up but emotionally absent when he needed me most. I couldn’t argue with him, so I apologized and tried to make things right.
He didn’t want a relationship. I reached out several times, but eventually I realized that continuing to push would only make things worse. So I gave him the space he asked for.
Seven years passed without a conversation between us. Then one afternoon, my phone rang and I saw his name on the screen. I stared at it for several seconds before answering.
He told me he was getting married. I congratulated him, and for the first time in years, we had a normal conversation. Then he asked if I could contribute $40,000 toward the wedding.
After what was a deeply memorable occasion celebrating the lives of our dearly departed grandparents and uncles, our family has been plunged into mourning.
My Aunt Grace sadly passed away after our return from Njanja.
She suffered a bad fall on Saturday, and although we initially thought it was a knee injury, it later emerged she had sustained a serious fracture. On Sunday morning, she woke up in severe pain and was rushed to a local clinic at Sadza Growth Point, before being transferred to Harare where she was due for surgery.
Tragically, she suffered a heart attack brought on by underlying heart disease and did not make it.
Aunt Grace, the youngest sister to Mhamha Rose, was 70.
We will now be heading back to Njanja, where she will be laid to rest at the family shrine in Redhill, Friday, 17 April.
We did not imagine that the joy and togetherness we experienced on Saturday, 11 April, would end this way.
Rest in peace, Aunt Grace 😢
🚨 Customs Enforcement in Action! 🚨
On 24 February 2026, during a WCO mentoring mission with Tonga’s 🇹🇴 new Air Cargo Control Unit as part of the WCO–UNODC Passenger and Cargo Control Programme (PCCP), 1.2 kg of methamphetamine was detected. This first seizure for the Unit highlights the PCCP’s tangible impact. Sharing and implementing WCO best practices strengthens supply chain integrity and protects society from illicit trade.
I am always conscious in spaces that I may be the only Zimbabwean some people will meet so I represent well.
I encourage all of you to do the same and implore Zimbabweans from all walks of life to act accordingly.
Do the best always, speak well, write well, kiss well.
Mirirai nyika!
That joy must be made, not found. Because sorrow doesn’t wait for you to make time. It doesn’t ask for permission but arrives uninvited,loud, greedy and without warning. It takes. And takes. And keeps taking. It empties rooms, quiets laughter, and lingers in the bones.
One thing you must deliberately do is travel to unlock your imaginary possibilities. If there’s one thing Zimbabwe teaches you, it’s how to survive. But if you’re not careful, you’ll start mistaking survival for growth. Talk to random people and you’ll see what I mean. Many have mastered living in the moment (which is brilliant, by the way). But hope? It’s taken with a pinch of salt. People just want to make it to the next day. Ask an SME owner about their 10-year plan and you’ll rarely hear talk of millions or billions.
That’s what prolonged exposure to man-made challenges does. It doesn’t just humble you, it shrinks your vision. You adjust, adapt, survive… but you stop imagining. Forget politics. I know nothing about that. But I do know this: resilience is good, but not always. Survival isn’t living. It’s clinging to life by a thread that could snap at any moment.