Kaleidoscope: Being young in Zimbabwe.

(This post is in relation to my experiences as a young Zimbabwean youth).

Honestly, I don't remember most of my dreams. Most times it's a complete black out ( I do not believe it's spiritual at all). Sometimes I only remember a few excerpts, like the main characters, or the setting but just never the whole storyline. It sucks, trust me, but I kinda find it funny and a good sport trying to fill the missing pieces and complete the picture just out of my imagination. It comes with a price though, my siblings call me Nebuchadnezzar!!(as if I'm male). 

Anyway, let's forget the dreams, the ones which you have when sleeping. Let us talk of dreams we have when we are wide awake. Real dreams!

I dream in colour. And I believe everyone does that. No one makes plans for the future knowing they are nothing but just bleak. We all dream of having nice cars, beautiful apartments, spoiling our parents, fancy holidays, you name it. And trust me, we all work so hard trying to make these dreams our goals with feet on the ground, trying to make them a reality. Truth is, for suckling young people, working hard is not enough or it's just not it at all. Most often, as young people we find out that though our dreams have been written in bubbles of vibrant colours, despite our efforts, against our wishes, our dreams are just black and white. Why? 

Our country has failed us, me and most youths, despite the fact that young people in Zimbabwe make up more than 60% of the population. We had and still have beautiful dreams of being entrepreneurs at 21, travelling around the world at 25. We have dreams of making it on the Forbes list before 40, running for public office before 30, some dream of carving out their names in sporting, in music, in academia, in modelling. But have we really done it? Most importantly, how close to possibility are these dreams? And do we blame the youth out there for spending their days basking in the sun, chainsmoking or whistling, trying to put their woes into some hip hop lyrics and jam along to their sufferings in a rap song which will bring them fame without money? Is the youth to be blamed for girls going after rich men just so they could pay their fees, buy their sanitary wear? Do we label it laziness, insanity, moral decadence or cultural decay? Or do we call it, A NATION'S FAILURE TO INVEST IN ITS YOUTH? 

Being a Zimbabwean youth is being in hell for most youths. Not only do you fight and hustle everyday on the economic front, you also fight political wars, whose genesis you cannot even fathom. It's knowing that if you want to make your dreams of colour true, your only opportunity is getting out of the country. Being young in Zimbabwe, is never knowing what freedom is for whatever step you take, you have everything to lose. 

Being youth in Zimbabwe is always a painful reminder of what you could have done with your life, what you could be doing with your life, the potential you have which never bears any fruit even when attempted, the ability you have to make headlines, to change the world, but you absolutely cannot do anything about it. Why? Because we are a youth that is talented, we are a youth that is gifted but never in our life has opportunity been granted us. We are a youth who have been forced to make mere survival on a daily basis a priority, a need, a must-do, but never have we been given the tools to survive.

Being a youth in Zimbabwe is being called a cry baby when you whine that you cannot make it. It is being called an enemy of government, for being brave enough to demand accountability from higher authorities. Being youth in Zimbabwe, is braving cold cells for asking what is due to us, for asking what they owe us, for wanting to be part of processes that secure our future. 

So excuse my anger, forgive us for demanding answers as to why we celebrate National Youth Day Friday, when we have absolutely nothing to celebrate? Why do we have to remain silent, when our sanity is threatened by a million and more questions? 

Why do we have to keep believing in dreams of colour when their fulfillment is threatened by these black and white dreams? 

Our question shall be why.

Till we get answers,

Mitchel.