At one point I thought all was lost, I said to myself we had lost the battle as I watched my compatriots with wads of the useless Zimbabwe dollar, the currency of hyperinflation. People barely managed to go to work because before the week was out their cash was defaced by riotous inflation, eventually encumbered by over 20 digits.
There was nothing to buy in the shops and many Zimbabweans fled to the Diaspora searching for the food that had become the preserve of a few in the elite. But now I know that no matter how long the night runs, darkness always yields to the force of the sun. Those days are over and at last Zimbabweans see shelves full, and some are even able to afford one or two meals a day, a few can manage three. But at least it is progress.
I hope and pray my Zimbabwe will move and improve, not for the good of a select few but for the whole country which is still emerging from the doldrums.
For me nothing beats the smell of rain as heavens kiss mother earth in an embrace that ultimately leads to abundance. The rainy season gives promise of a new beginning even in a country like Zimbabwe. I long for the brown grass to turn green and rivers to overflow with the gift of life, water.
Those are small signs of a better time ahead and I hope that come this year this country, blessed with abundant talent and endowed with rich mineral resources, will only but flourish just as the wilderness does in times of rain.
For three years rival politicians have been ruling this country and I hope they have prepared fertile ground for a country that will embrace change and refuse to live in a rut. I thought it would never dawn but, call me crazy, now I have a feeling that light is there at the end of the tunnel.