I have seen first-hand how the horrors of Mugabe’s Zimbabwe haunt our people shines some light into the dark past. An example:
When Gogo Ncube* spoke, she held her walking stick firmly. She was from Matabeleland’s Silobela. “They came,” said the 82-year-old. “They rounded us up. They put the men in a hut, closed it and set it alight.” Her granddaughter sat next to her, wearing an expression of indifference. She had heard this story many times.
Gogo continued: “The young women were raped in front of us. Some were bayonetted. I have not stopped seeing those visions. They called it Gukurahundi.”
After a while, her granddaughter interrupted. “Doctor, can you stop these thoughts and constant repetitions about these events? Why has Gogo not moved on?” she asked, finally breaking into tears. “This has affected all of us.”
Gogo looked into the eyes of her granddaughter. “How can I move on when I have the ghosts of my entire village crying out for justice?”
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