Zimbabwe is now 45 years old. On this day in 1980, the embers of colonial concentration of power were extinguished, replaced by a bright flame of independence. Much of that time has been riddled with a lot of unsavoury things, from political as well as state-sponsored violence, corruption, sanctions regimes and economic strife to deteriorating standards of living. There has been a lot to smile about. The massive desegregation, the inclusion of the black majority as economic actors, the sporting moments, largely engendered peace and security and the evolving definition of Zimbabwe as a state. In 1980, then-newly-elected Prime Minister Robert Mugabe had this dream. He said, in his famous victory speech, “I urge you, whether you are black or white, to join me in a new pledge to forget our grim past, forgive others and forget, join hands in a new amity, and together, as Zimbabweans, trample upon racialism, tribalism and regionalism, and work hard to recon-struct and rehabilitate our society as we reinvigorate our economic machinery.” And later, much has evolved, but what has become dire is the removal of the people from the dream. The future has often become the preserve of direct political players who define what a country should be by virtue of a mandate. Few have become the dreams that exist in halls, huts and dusty streets across the country. While individuals quite rightly are subservient to a collective good, what people aspire to has become limited by circumstance and dictate. Whereas in other countries and climes, many can aspire to greatness, for many in Zimbabwe, that has to be tempered. Often, this can be deviously clothed as some kind of cultural motif of convenience, and at other times, ambition is seen as a deliberate attempt to usurp those who stand in stead. And if you are thinking of this in political terms, therein lies the problem. Because politics has been presented as the raison d’etre, we almost do not allow ourselves to feel our dreams are valid. We poison any intellectual circulatory systems unless they feed a narrative that is political. And so the dreamers have hopped on plains, trains (we just wanted that word, but which trains?) and buses in search of their dreams in other climes, where their appetite for validity is fully satiated. That is the conversation a headstrong Zimbabwe must have with itself. It needs space for the dreamers. Subscribe to Blog via Email