The Unbreakable Will of the Zimbabwean

There is a problem up ahead. Marjorie has been waiting in the queue for an hour now. The customs officials are taking their time to check every vehicle as it goes past the Border post. The Beitbridge heat is overwhelming. Pea sized beads of sweat roll down the side of her face, leave a cool trail down her neck and moisten her blouse.

There is a bus to her left, in a separate queue for buses. The bus and the trailer it is towing are jam packed with groceries, fridges, stoves and other appliances. The passengers jostle about as they help unpack the bus so that the customs officials can check the packages one by one.

Arduous.

She hears crackling laughter behind her. A woman and a man in an open pick are sharing a pack of french fries bought on the South African side, and a joke, probably inspired by the Zimbabwean side.

She is reminded of the contradictions in this country. Despair and hope live side by side like rival siblings. She smiles to herself and sighs, "Zimbabwe."

All of a sudden a surge of strength and possibility rises up inside her.

Like Marjorie, I too sometimes have to sigh in resignation. Sometimes I am angry, sometimes I am frustrated, sometimes I am left wondering "why".

But on the other hand, I have woken up every morning for the last five years feeling inspired by the Zimbabwean people. Here's a nation that refused to be broken by 11,2million percent inflation (Now allegedly at 531 billion percent), by joblessness, by six month power outages in some areas, by water cuts, by having no teachers for their children.

Here's a people that refused to bow down to hunger and fuel shortages, who would rather walk 15km to work than sit at home and give up, who would rather stand at a street corner and deal in forex than to rob and murder.

And so when I, with my warm bed and Internet access, wake up feeling depressed I remember the man who has woken up from a cold floor, drunk a cup of black, breadless tea for breakfast and walked to work in the wee hours of the morning.

And like Marjorie I smile to myself and know that I am stronger than I give myself credit for.