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As I remember yesterday, I cry today

By Trust Gwasunda

The world is changing, this world has changed. Everything is moving fast, I mean way too fast for the slow ones to catch up.

Taking a glance at the past I weep for today and mourn for tomorrow. What we called taboo yesterday is now desirable today and tomorrow will be luxury… I look at the past and weep for tomorrow.

Not so may years ago we used to be the bread basket of Southern Africa with every bird feasting in our generous basket and drowning their thirst in our river of wealth.

That was before the plague of rats ensued. In no time they stared gnawing away the basket. Scattering all the food to all part leaving the basket empty, torn and tattered.

Today, the once proud owners of the basket scatter around picking up pieces from other baskets. Back then, the social life used to flourish with no hiccups.

Families were being built on strong foundations of trust. They stood firm on walls of faithfulness and were thatched with wonderful roofs of hope. As I look at it today its all but a sorrow sight.

It took forever to win a girl’s heart back then. Long unending months of patience, perseverance and persistence. The months will at times be jacketed by beatings and dog chases from the girl’s brothers.

Winning that girl’s heart was an accolade to be treasured for life knowing that the girl will also give her heart wholly. Perhaps that is where the phrase ‘’ good things take time’’ came from, that was then.

Today the key to a woman’s heart is not patience, it is neither perseverance but DIGITS, yes digits. It is now easier to win the ‘’love’’ of a girl and I add air quotes to the word love to make it sound sinister for sinister it is nowadays.

Obtaining a girl’s phone number is three minutes to bedding her, two minutes to an imminent break up and inevitable heartbreak.

Do I blame technological advancements or cultural integrations or disintegration thereof?

Today’s world is awash with social media, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube and my all time favourite WhatsApp, that’s to mention a few. Technology has suddenly rekindled what was once viewed as barbaric by some.

It has presented an illegal yet legal polygamous system, view it as polygamy when one can have more than one official boyfriend or girlfriend. When a mere 16 year old girl will at the end of the day say I love you to 5 lovers, humorously ironic.

When a girl photographically exposes her naked body to a male she barely knows. Well so much for the respect of the temple of God. When your boyfriend’s friend can actually hook up with you over the phone and sleep with you not, just once but for as long as you don’t get caught.

I used to believe in love. That was until I joined a social network called Facebook. My eyes were instantaneously attracted to this aesthetically pleasing work of creation.

A pure black magnificent beauty with roots probably from the home land of mine. One thing however caught my attention. Her name read Minnie Eland. I thought to myself, is this really her full name? Perhaps her name was Minenhle Mpofu.

My belief in love faded when I noticed that her status read. Single. This took my memory sprinting back to the years gone by, I remembered this cardboard box at my grandmother’s gate inscribed ‘’ freezits for sell’’.

Linking her Facebook status with my grandmother’s advert I saw no difference. My grandmother was looking for customers to come and buy her freezits, on the other hand this lady was probably looking for customers to buy her goods as well, marketing.

In as much as technology has changed our lives for the good economically it has however dealt a great blow to the social side.

The use or misuse of technology thereof has rendered relationships quizzical. I used to wonder why relationships are failing nowadays. I do know why now. What was once viewed by those in the Christian realms as a sacrament is now a rubble of temperament.

When cheating today is only a touch screen away. When a married woman can have more male friends in her phone than her husband. When those friends offer flattery compliments on a daily basis to her while the husband is always away with work. What then will become of that marriage?

I do not however entirely blame technology. It is the human grasp or lack of that is to blame. Just like a woman with sharp pointed breasts and a dazzling cleavage, it is entirely up to her to chose to use the breasts whether for good or for bad, or one for each.

The same blanket should wrap the fate of technology; it is our grasp on it that is good, bad or otherwise.

I remember at a tender age, in our once bread basket days, my father would vanish for a whole month.

Like an eagle he would fend tirelessly for the family in the rural areas to have bread and butter on the table. Mother would always remain behind. Bound by faith and trust their relationship always flourished and thrived and stood the test of time.

Today I weep for relationships, Mrs Gwasunda works in the city of Bulawayo. Mr Gwasunda works at a faraway land.

An inevitable family disintegration aggravated by economic strife. Marriages are no longer a union of two people. They are now an economic understanding, with people marrying to safeguard their economic future.

With this distance between couples so many questions go un answered. Who will satisfy the sexual needs of Mrs Gwasunda? What about Mr Gwaunda? Perhaps the flour polish vendor whistling outside, or the ice-cream man who passes by everyday?

Will it be a fellow colleague deep down Kuvuki? What will become of this family when the ice-cream man impregnates Mrs? Will the Mr ever know? when the Mr does the same to that Kuvuki girl, will the Mrs ever know?

Today, absence no longer make the heart grow fonder but legs open yonder.

As I look at the situation toady… I see trust flying away through the dark clouds, next to me hope sits holding a rope and scribbling a suicidal note, I look at my right and see faithfulness lying flat on the railway tracks with a bullet train fast approaching. I weep for the future.

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