So most of my family are in Zimbabwe, my birthplace, the land I grew up in, yearn for, love. The place I still call home, even though I've lived in England for the past 7 years. The place that my husband and I have every intention and plan to return to.
This amazing land, full of friendly people, dusty ground, sunny skies, huge thunderstorms and rain, potholed roads, long grass, big sky. This land is on the brink again...
Elections always bring the barely controlled excitement, the what-if feeling. What if the old dictator is finally ousted. What if the economy can finally be turned around, employing people, developing basic services, making things right again. What if it all works out....
but...
We know the elections are rigged. We know the end result before any ballots have been posted. We know the people who are being paid to ensure that the ruling party stay as the ruling party.
and
We fear. We fear for the people on the ground, the people being vocal and shouting out the election atrocities, the people who dare to vote for the opposition.
We fear for the violence that is bound to occur. The army and police versus the unarmed population.
We fear for the people who will 'go missing'.
We fear for the future.
a bizarre mix of what ifs and fear. knowing it will end in disappointment anyway.
but what if?
and the fear.
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