Staff Photographer
Zimbabwean poet Chirikure Chirikure didn’t start railing at his country’s government in the past decade when speaking out against Robert Mugabe was in vogue. In the 1980s, when Zimbabwe was lauded by liberals as progressive and exemplary, a state that had duly noted the failures of other African states and was poised to avoid post-colonial pitfalls, Chirikure was already critical.
Chirikure, alongside Botswana poet TJ Dema, Zimbabwe’s solo guitarist Steve Makoni and others, will be performing in Johannesburg this weekend at the awareness-raising Make Some Noise event, dubbed “A Concert for Freedom in Zimbabwe”.
Chirikure’s first Shona poetry collection, Rukuvhute (1989), had a poem called Heroes Day Holiday in which he said the benefits of freedom had not reached war veterans — those “who put their country first /And thought nothing of themselves”. This holiday, meant to celebrate their sacrifices, is now notorious because of those who “exchange STDs in the false name of love”.
The rich and powerful politicians “dance their intrigue games round braais /As they weave new plans for the next plunder”. The irony is that although the nation “is awash with joy / Somewhere, worms are feeding on the heroes / The heroes’ families are in deep mourning”.
Two decades later the country he loves so much has become a shell and his lines have the eerie feel of a prophecy of doom that has come true. Now only a handful of people are happy and secure, millions have left to go into an exile where they scrounge pitiful existences. Although there is a shaky arrangement in place to get Zimbabwe to work again, Chirikure says “one cannot celebrate this government of national unity. It is a transitional period — very tricky. The wind can shift in a direction. We can’t be too excited,” he says cautiously on the phone from Harare after a morning spent at Oliver Mtukudzi’s house-cum-studio in Norton, 40km south of Harare. Chirikure is working on two albums and writes sleeve notes on Tuku’s CDs.
“There are a lot of challenges. There has been much destruction. To rebuild this country is going to be difficult. A lot of people — politicians — are afraid. They have a lot to protect. But we have to remind one another to move forward — we are starting afresh,” he says.
He sees his role in rather startling terms. “Utmost power lies in the hands of God, the creator. I speak for those who believe in that God. Political power used against the people is in direct confrontation with the God whom these people believe in.” Coming back to earth and speaking like an earthling, Chirikure, who studied history, religious studies and Shona at the University of Zimbabwe in the 1980s, says that “one tries to remind the politicians to use their power in a most responsible way”.
One of his life-long projects is to challenge Zanu-PF’s version of history, what scholar and historian Terence Ranger described as “nationalist historiography — history in the service of nationalism”. Chirikure says that “people have tried to appropriate the liberation struggle against Ian Smith, but they wouldn’t have achieved much without the ordinary people. Let’s keep on discussing, let’s demand back our space, let’s claim back the liberation narratives. For it takes a while to realise what’s going on until you see that your children are being taught cooked-up stories.”
Over the years he has used the mbira (thumb piano) to come up with a motley sound called detembira (detemba is Shona for chant). “The mbira is not a backdrop to my poems. It’s such a sacred instrument it has equal status to the spoken word,” he says. “We try to make the two one. Both belong to our ancestors,” he says wistfully. He makes acrobatic leaps between disparate worlds seem easy and in the next sentence he makes a quick return from the netherworld. “We should remain positive,” he says about Zimbabwe. “We should rush slowly and make sure we don’t repeat the mistakes we made.”
Chirikure will perform at the Bassline this Sunday (March 29). See listings for details