Year by year the body surrenders unable to stem the logic of ageing
I set out for here a week ago exactly. But it is only now that the strains of the place I left are leaving me. Am I imagining it, or have my powers of recovery diminished? Year by year the body surrenders, unable to stem the remorseless logic of ageing. I felt it in Harare when the army advanced up the broad street beside ZANU-PF headquarters and people were fleeing in all directions. The jeeps had their headlights blazing and they were headed towards us.
After an initial canter out of the road I was overcome with weariness. This was physical and mental. "To hell with them," I thought to myself, "I am not running. Not any more." I was rebelling against these goons in military uniform. But also against every goon I had ever been chased or intimidated by. Over the years there have been plenty in and out of uniform. I was suddenly furious. We had heard the gunfire echoing across the streets. A colleague had messaged that he had seen a man shot dead in front of him.