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"Life is supposed to be difficult," he said taking a long swig for his ornate hip flask, "It’s the struggle against the infinite violence of a universe.” I smiled, perhaps he was right or perhaps he was just an asshole making it up as he went along, but the gravity of his remark struck me unexpectedly. The default to life was indeed struggle, for all life not just intelligent life; why would I be exempt. I didn’t care for the man and his insidious gloat of pomposity. Nothing is absolute, nothing certain, which makes the possibilities boundless. The joy of life is making it from one moment to the next through adversity and earning the things the things people say about you when you arrive at your freshly dug grave carried by those you hold dearest.

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Morgan Tsvangirai: a tribute


Dear Zimbabweans
Tomorrow a man will wake up, eat his first meal of the day, kiss his wife and drive to the cemetery where he is employed as a grave digger.
At no point will he understand the importance of his work, for tomorrow he digs a grave for man of character.
And the mud on the gravediggers hands will be history, the history of a Zimbabwean son who dared to stand up against tyranny, who suffered the indignities of prison and torture for what he believed.
Many will say he failed in his futile pursuits but more will talk of his dedication and unrelenting labours towards the cause.
His vision a bright new Zimbabwe cut short all too soon.
That grave will be for Morgan Tsvangirai, a leader and a friend of the Zimbabwean people.
May his vision endure now that his body cannot.
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