Home within

by Joy Chimwemwe Chipidza (Zimbabwe)

I didn't expect to find Zimbabwe

Questions about who we are and where we come from keep many of us up at night. We are constantly searching for answers, signs and connections and when one is given an opportunity to discover them, it would be foolish to not grasp it with both hands. As a young, black African, it is not unique to be plagued by these thoughts. And with an abundance of negative images available to see yourself through, it is important to dig through the noise to reach the truth. Where do we come from? Who do we come from? The Great Zimbabwe Ruins. Masvingo eZimbabwe. Once home to the Rozvi people, the former Mutapa Empire, the birthplace of my people, the Shona. I had heard the stories, I had seen the pictures but for some time I had been tormented by a craving to experience it through my own eyes. When I walked in I was greeted by monkeys everywhere, a good sign to be invited in by my own totem. As I gained sight of the stone structures ahead of me I realised that the pictures had not done my home justice. The stories had fallen short of the glory of the walls now surrounding me. The grey bricks making up the towering stone structures did so without a trace of cement or mortar. They stood there resilient and unmoving, defying the laws of nature and science, their mere existence a miracle, an ode to the brilliance, skill and talent of the minds that built them. I felt a presence as I explored, a lingering history in every corner, partly forgotten, lost to the wind and yet still alive within me. I breathed in the legacy remaining in the walls. They told stories of many a traveller come from far and wide in the hopes of bartering for a fraction of the immense wealth the Rozvi possessed in gold and ivory. They spoke of community and family and the sometimes intricate systems they had been run by. I noticed the chevron patterns embedded in some of the walls. The Rozvi had been a creative people who appreciated art. I wondered if art had been considered currency in their society. No doubt they had collected many different pieces from their foreign visitors as well as from their own travels. I made my way to the Great Enclosure, home to the king. All other structures lacked in stature by comparison. It's enormity appropriated and confirmed it's nickname, "playground for giants." This must have been where the subjects pf the kingdom gathered for important announcements and to have their disputes settled. This must have been home to the finest art collection in the land. Within the Great Enclosure's outer wall was a second wall and between them, was formed a daunting corridor. I imagined the king's men who must have occupied the passageway, protecting their leader, ready to fight to the death for him and the honour it must have been to be considered as such. Finally I began the ascent up the steep hill that overlooks the valley in which the ruins lay. I had been dreading the exhausting climb and so I had saved this part for last. However, after the everything I had experienced, I knew whatever I found at the top could only be worth it. And I was not disappointed. As I increased my altitude I was met with built structures whose positioning off the ground made them even more mind boggling. But the most spectacular was the view I beheld when I reached the top. Masvingo eZimbabwe lay spread out beneath me to my left, still undiminished by the distance. To my right was a sparkling water body teeming with life and energy. In front of me was a vast expanse of land, fertile with generations it had nurtured and full of promises to the generations to come. I contemplated the answers and lessons I had been gifted. Visiting the ruins had given me more than I had anticipated. As I began my descent I knew that within me had been instilled a new freedom inspired by the greatness I now knew lived within me.