TEACHERS, MENTORS, MOTIVATORS AND PARAGONS In Shona we say, - TopicsExpress

TEACHERS, MENTORS, MOTIVATORS AND PARAGONS In Shona we say, “Nzombe huru yakabva mukurerwa” meaning to say, no matter how big, venerated or heroic you become, there have been moulders and mentors around you that made you to become so. In this discussion, I want to comment on the people who have made me to become what I am. I will mention them by names and state what I remembered them doing for me. I will start by infant through to tertiary teachers. Then I will go to my pastors and then some other family members. It is meant to be an acknowledgement chapter. Some may be described in just a phrase or sentence while others by a paragraph of two. The idea is not to say with a few words on them did very little. No. It simply means, this is as far as I remember about the person. Primary School Teachers As you may know, at primary school, it was a taboo to know the first name of the teacher. Most we had not to know that name (I am not sure these days.) Mrs Mafukidze and Mai Severa (Mai Daniel;Mai Reward Severa), my crèche teachers. They were so patient with me and taught me to socialise. We were raw and difficult but they persuaded us to like learning. Mrs Maminimini (Mai Jongwe), my Grade 1 and 2 teacher. She was very motherly and soft. However, I was always in trouble for dirty work and rubbing out. She would pinch the thighs but that took away the village madness from this little boy. She also spent time chatting with my mother, buying here guavas and oranges so the she could pay for me building fund and tuition. I remember with girls like Marian Chimedza, Enerty Hwengwere and boys like Bowen Chikomba, we used to wrestle amongst ourselves to carry her bag after her husband had dropped her at school or was coming to pick her home. Mrs Mubwandarikwa (the headmaster’s wife), my Grade 3 teacher. I loved especially her re-narration of bible stories (Religious and Moral Education). She would put the stories in the vernacular and made us to understand them the more. I remember her calling me one day and I responded saying, “Ambuya” and everyone laughed and said because he is so used to her grandmother. Mrs Mubwandarikwa was known for hard beating. I remember her not beating me a single day though I received a few pinches from her. I feared her so I just avoided making any nuisances. Ms Rachel Mupondi, my Grade 4 teacher. She was a ‘girl’ studying towards her diploma in education from Mkoba Teachers College. We didn’t strictly take her for a ‘mother’ but a sister, who would sit around with us and enjoy us the kids. Mr T.Z. Chikumbu, my Grade 5 teacher. Again was studying towards his diploma in education from Mkoba Teachers College. Although I was in Grade five we were almost the same height. The man was short but sharp. He loved so much Douglas Mabasa to read us Shona novels in class and he called him, “mupfana” because the boy looked smaller in statute to all of us. To appreciate me having been in the first position, Mr Chikumbu gave me so eyeglasses. I don’t know whether they were for reading or for eye problems. I took them home and grandfather locked them into his trunk to keep the gift safe. Mr Mushure, my Grade 6, first term teacher. I remember him for producing a relaxed environment for learning. Mr Mukarati, Grade 6 and 7 teacher. I remember he said he had participated in the liberation struggle. The man was always in suits. When I was number 1 he gave me novels as gifts. From him, I remember receiving Pafunge, a Shona novel and then Coming of the Dry Season. The school didn’t have prize giving days so he just filled in the gap. The man would also beat ‘bad’ students. He had a ‘symbok’. When Albert Pasi made us to ‘steal’ his so-called uncles’ oranges, we were sjamboked thoroughly and made to clean the toilets for a whole week. Mr Mukudu. He didn’t teach me but he hit me after, in Grade 5 I had absconded cleaning the toilets (for it was our class to do the duty). All the culprits went to his class (Grade 7B) and in the presence of his class, he said he would bit each one of us until we had cried. A few fellow cried at 2 or three strokes. I was the last one. He hit me. One, two, three.....[no crying].... sixteen, seventeen, eighteen [no crying] until at twenty-one [no crying] he pushed me through the door and said, “Go! I don’t know what type of person you are...!” In that class I remember there was Munyaradzi Makuvaza who latter had to say to me, on the way home, “yaa mufana wakaoma!” Mr. Mugadza (husband to the former headmistress at Sadza Secondary School) was the Acting Head when I was appointed Headboy. He was very understanding and accommodating. He was our choirmaster and when we wanted to say we can’t sing he said, “If you can cry then you can sing” Headmaster Mubwandarikwa. He was the headmaster for all the seven years I was at Sadza Primary School. The man could hit “nechibhabhi), pinch or bite. He called the primary schools kids, “zvidhanana”. If he said, “Chidhanana uya pano!” you knew you were in trouble. I always feared him and never made any mistakes when he was around. As deputy headboy, one day, he asked me to go and take down the flag. Two marchers would go with everyone else at attention. The marchers had to do it in a certain style. The two of us marched towards the flag and my colleague took down the flag and gave me in style. On turning, I turned right when I was supposed to turn left. All this was in the headmaster’s eyes. He received the flag into the office and came back after me. He pinched my ear and gave me punishment to take 5 wheelbarrows of pit soils to the grounds after everyone had gone home. It was a distance of about a kilometre from the source to the destination. Thereafter I learnt to be away from the flag. It is because Mr. Mubwandarikwa was a strict man and a disciplinarian that Sadza Primary School did well among the rest. After primary school, I could still visit him and we spent time in his office and he was proud to see me as one of his products. At Grade 7 I had the following Grades Mathematics – 2 General Paper – 2 English – 1 Shona - 1 Secondary School Teachers Mr Peter Rwodzi, my headmaster (Form one to part of Form 3). My first encounter with him face to face was when I was looking for a place for Form. I came well after new year. He looked at me and said, “Young man, where were you when we were giving others places?” I said, “I was helping my grandfather with the tilling of field and hoeing” He said, “We no longer have places and where do you come from?” I said “Chikanya Village, after Mafukidze” And he said, “That’s very far away. No, that’s too far.” “But there are some guy who is my neighbour who walks all the distance, sir? “Who is that?” “Marshall Gwatura” “Oh that one! At least he is a behaved boy. For the simply reason, will take you in” I smiled. Oh I had got a place at Neshangwe High. The next important face-to-face encounter and dialogue I had with this MA (Master of Arts holder who was studying towards his PhD at the University of Zimbabwe) was when in my getting to Form 3, I didn’t go to school for three weeks. We came to school on the opening day and the headmaster anoounced, “All those whose fees have not been paid yet, please leave.” I left. Mother had not sent the money and we had not heard from her. Grandfather had invested all the money he had into fertiliser and seed. When I told him he said, “We wait to hear from you mother.” Those days communication was not easy as it now – no mobile phone, no text messaging, no whatsapp, no twitter, no facebook. Phoning? Where? Mother didn’t have a phone. We had to wait. For nearly two weeks I was seen side by side with grandfather helping him weed his fields. Some fellow village school goers you would hear them as the were passing the fields, “Shame! Innocent is no longer going to school? Ko inga zvaaigona wani?” At least there were sympathisers! We finally got some money for me to get to Harare. I remember of of the hitting songs was by Leonard Dembo was “Vakomana vemadhiri?” Mother had moved from Matapi after a quarrel with stepfather and was staying in a shack of wood in Majubheki, just close to paTsiga near Mbare Musika. The place was muddy. Apparently stepfather could not handle it doing the pots on his own. He had followed on and were now together again. I spend some three days in Harare with mother stitching the moneys until they were sufficient. She was selling in Magaba. All over, the place was muddy and an eyesore. Mumusika chaimo maintesa kupinda but she had to make orders there. By Sunday I was back to Sadza. On Monday I went to the headmaster’s office. He waved me into his office after he heard my knock. “Young man, people told us you are now at Domboramavara School. What brings you here? “Domboramavara? No sir, I never went there. I was looking for school fees. I had gone to Harare?” “But your colleague told us that you were enjoying school at Dombo! Anyway, did you receive my message?” “Yes and No, sir. I just heard you send Mary Mafukidze to come and tell me to come back to school? “Yes, I sent her. I am happy to announce to you that the board of teachers have considered you to receive a school bursary. You will only have to pay development levy!” Ah. I couldn’t believe it. I never thought about it. I never dreamt of it. I thanked him and went to the bursar to pay the development levy. Soon I was in class. To confirm Mr Rwodzi and my teachers’ pride, I came first at the ZJC results that came out in March. I had the following: English – 6 (passed by the whisker) Mathematics – 3 Shona -1 Science – 1 Geography – 1 History – 1 The 1992 ZJC did not write practical subjects (Agriculture, Woodwork, Fashion and Fabric, Accounting, etc). I remember Mr Rwodzi’s statement, “Nothing is so sacrosanct...” I didn’t know the meaning but I just like it. Unfortunately Mr Rwodzi passed away when I was in Form Four after head had been promoted to Education Officer and was working in Marondera. As a school we went to the village and varoora were mimicking him putting own his graduation gowns. I just pondered, “So what is the meaning of life when we get so educated but only to die one day?” I also had wanted him to attain that title and be called “Dr Rwodzi”. Unfortunately it didn’t happen as we all wished. Mr. Peter Manganyana, (my Form 1 Class and Book-keeping teacher). He had the hoarse voice because of too much beer drinking. I liked his definition of book keeping he picked from a Book by Sidiqui, “Book-keeping is the recording of business transactions in a systematic matter.” He would say, “In book keeping vafana, we say, DEBIT THE RECIEVER AND CREDIT THE GIVER.” He was one day going to hit me because I wasn’t tucking in my shirt. If you see me trying to dress formally always, it is because of this many who disciplined me on that matter. We used to admire him for his versatility in handling many subjects. He was teaching Commerce, Mathematics and History to the form 4s. He was also taking us through Book keeping. Our definition of a ‘knowledgeable teacher’ was exactly like Mr Manganyana. He transferred from the school when we were in form two and we felt the gap. Mr. Robert Takundwa, (Form 1-4 Science teacher). He also taught me mathematics in form two. The man always wore a serious face and would say, “Makomuredzi, hatisi kuita zvekutamba pano handiti?” I was a very good science student because of this many. He was not very comfortable with the biological sections of the subject but when it comes to the chemistry and physics sections, he was very free and never looked much into the book. I remember how he loved to explain momentum. He would say, and almost running to the chalk board, “Class! A body that is moving will continue moving... because of its:...MOMENTUM. That is the reason why, when on a bus the driver suddenly applied breaks, people will move forward before they move back to the back of the seat! It is because of? Momentum!” You would never dare make nonsense in his presence. Although I didn’t join the dreamer club, he was a coach there. He took from Mr Brown (I found him gone back to England) and Neshangwe had a trademark of successful drama in the entire district. When I did know where to get money to proceed to A Level, Mr Takundwa advised me to go and try social welfare. I tried it and it just worked. I cherish Mr Takundwa so much. Mr Tauya, Woodwork Teacher, Form 1 and 2. The man never smiled. I feared so much. I was good at the theory of woodwork and the only product I managed to complete in his class was a mere teapot stand, where we applied the simple “mortise and tenon joint” (if I remember well). He then left to be head of Zvamatobwe Secondary School. Mr Madandi, Forms 1 2 and 4 Geography teacher. The man was ever serious but knew his work and I was a good student throughout. In Form 1 were made to be taught by Mrs Guthenz, (from Austria). Mr. Stanley Mangwanya, Form 1 and 2 Agriculture Teacher. After had learnt from him, that, the spade is for “digging and turning over the soil, digging and turning over the soil,” I went back home, tried in in grandpa’s garden and it worked. We never bought from the market vegetables from my form 1 until I finished my form 4 and left the villages for town. Agriculture was a practical subject.. although I didn’t purse it further as a school subject it enhanced the livelihoods status of my grandpa’s household. In my early years I had seen grandpa do the garden but had then stopped. After I had learnt from Mr Mangwanya, I resuscitated the whole thing. I was to be seen more in the garden than anyways as long as I was “free”. I would carry my books to the garden, work, read, work and read!!! Ms Munodawafa, Accounts Teacher, Form 2 and 4. I didn’t really like Accounts but she was persuasive to me to love the subject. Generally, I hated her handwriting in my book. But she was patient all the same. Mr. Samson Matope, Form 3 Geography teacher. He was understanding and very tolerant though students in my class never really loved his ‘tiny’ voice, raiita kakushoshomera so. Mr. Beka (a woodwork teacher). He never taught me but I liked his appreciation of talent in students even which he was not teaching. Mr. Tamai Mahapa, Form 3 and 4 Maths teacher. He also taught me Woodwork form 3 before I dropped it seeing that I was not doing anything meaningful yet my colleagues, Don Makwati, Robert Madaka and Abednigo Mafusire were leading in the practicals. I simply decided to quit the subject though I was to revisit woodwork concepts when I made my table at Siyaso (Magaba) which was to be my reading desk at our room in Sunningdale as I pursued A Level Mrs D Guthenz (Form 1 English and Geography Teacher). At first I had problem listening to her because of her tone. Coming from the villages we had not really interacted with white people. Their tone was too pitched to be understood. She liked us reading ‘Chike and the River’; In Geography he major reference was Geography Today which had a red cover. Mr. Tony Guthenz, Form 1, History Teacher. He appreciated me so much because I master his subject very well. Mr. Reiss (not sure of the spilling but the pronunciation was Riz), English Teacher, Form 2. Again like the Guthenz was from Austria. He loved my mastery of the language and often read some of my essays in class as exemplar. Mrs. Reiss, my Form 1 Maths teacher. I remember her for teaching us especially algebraic expressions. Ms Jambaya (Form 3, Class Teacher who was teaching Food and Nutrition). I remember her beating Ngoni Chiwada, 35 strokes (to match with the 35 of us) after he, as class monitor failed to produce a list of the noise makers. Mr. Timothy Mheni (Form 4 Class teacher), I remember him for producing a list of comments for the 35 students (whole class) mentioning what he remembered each for them. For me he said, “reserved and collected). As class monitor in form four, he handed the list to me with a compilation of the commentary. I last bumped it about 3 years ago but don’t know where it disappeared. Mr Duri, the Easy Going one, my Form 2, History teacher. I deepened in being quiet because of this man. I emulated his easy going character but with ability to deliver. I went to the extreme of becoming “quiet-like-mad” as Mr Edwell Takura was later to describe me. He was also an English teacher so I used to write my essays and give him for marking. He wanted me to keep the language simple unlike Mr Musa Mlambo who liked it fluffy and sounding. I owe my A grade in English at O Level to them both. Mr. Musa Mlambo, Form 3 and 4 English Teacher. He was “jocund”. As class monitor, I always had to go and carry the Step Ahead English Books from the staff room and got the kudos for doing so. I have always loved his topic on ‘discourse markers”. Mr Edwell Takura, History and Shona Teacher, Form 3 and 4. He always believed that I could deliver. I disappointed him when I got a B in History instead of an A. As a summative evaluation of my person and we were an Mangoro Store at Sadza Growth Point, Mr Takura said, “We could have made you a prefect but we decided not to because you were too quiet-like-mad for such a post.” When in Form 3 I realised I was not a prefect hence always appearing on the list of noise-makers, I decided to campaign to be a class monitor. I became one and that made me to counter any force against me. It worked. Whenever, there was graduation at the University of Zimbabwe, Mr Takura would put own his University graduation gown and that reminded us that there was life beyond form four and to be specific, university life. Mr Joy Chdzambwa, Form 3 and 4, Extended Science Teacher, tall and very light in complexion. In extended science he taught me the mole concept and the Avogadro constant. This was challenging stuff. He had to hit me one day after giving us a test (He was left-handed). In the test, I discovered, there were many things I couldn’t answer. I therefore left a number of gaps. He saw it on marking and gave me a good hiding, saying, “I want to exorcise those bad spirits out of you which can make you fail.” From that time I was more serious. He was also the school music teacher. He taught us the new Zimbabwe national anthem in 1994 (“Simudzai Mureza weZimbabwe) beginning with the notes to the words. Illness suddenly took Mr Chidzambwa away from work and then we had he had passed on in his rural home. In 1994, I lost two of my important mentors – Mr Chidzambwa and Mr Rwodzi. You can imagine how the news thumped the small heart! Mr Mugoche, Extended Science Teacher, (after the passing on of Mr Chidzambwa). He was a short man who was always chuckling and happy to be in the company of our rather small class. He taught us the physics section – Ohm’s Law, Charles’ Law, etc. He used to write on the board with the aid of a ruler to support his chalk. He had is jacket which resembled a school blazer. Mr Ruzvidzo, Lab Technician (ba’ Liberty). Mr. Ruzvidzo never wanted especially form 3 and 4s making noise. He would remind us how we were not as brilliant as him, who sat for exams of the London examination board and got Cs having not ready much. He always tapped on his wrist and said, “Exam time is coming, days are numbering like seconds! Please work hard!” Mr P Takawira, Form 3 Accounts Teacher. I learnt he went to church together with my grandma. I never wanted him to know I was grandma’s grandson and I succeeded. I loved (so was everyone), his pronunciation of “dollars!” Mr Nyika, (a Maths teacher). He did not teach me but admired how I fared with my schoolwork. In my class, were some students I will not forget and some we are still in touch like Abednigo Mafusire and Robert Madaka (the poets), Bowen Chikomba, Don Makwati and Nobert Severa (we always had fun going, either composing some song or debating on issues). Don always laughed it me and said, “I went to their church and everyone – women, men, girls and boys – was crying kuti hwi-hwi-hwi). And quietly I vowed, “They will never see me there as long as they cannot stop these people like Don observing us.” Mfundisi Gewa would stop me by the fence of the church to come to church on Sunday and I would just say, “Okay pastor I will come” but never come. Other students in my class were Tendai Chikasha (we exchanged notes on English and Maths), Itai Chinyama, Romeo Mutsago, Blessed Mangoro, Chenjerai Chirata, Liberty Ruzvidzo, Ottilia Makwara, Sternard Chirisa, Felistas Chirisa, Francis Dandara, Shepherd Dandara and Brian Chibharo. There were some I was with from Grade 1 –Form 4 (Mary Mafukidze, Pretty Makuvaza and Lucia Chinyama). Advanced Level When I went to Harare High, the school head was Mr. Chiwara but school children called him ‘Ndege” being speedy in his conduct. He saw me and holding my O Level results slip was quick to say, “Shall we give you sciences young boy?” “No, Arts sir!” I was still not sure of where I would be staying. I reasoned, “if I choose mathematics for example, can I do workings in a tree. At least if I take Shona or English I can do the reading of the novels even sitting on a branch of tree” He scribbled that I was to take English Literature, Shona and History. I went to Lusaka (Highfield) where I was staying briefly with Uncle M and I showed Sekuru Never Sadza my new combination. He not happy that I had not got Geography. He begged me to go and negotiate for that. The following day I went back to school and managed to convince Mr (Steven) Steve Zvinairo who was already complaining that his class had become just too big. However he accepted me in. Now I had all the four subjects at my hand. My teachers now: Mr. Steven Zvinairo, Class Teacher, Geography Teacher, Form 5 and 6. He had some characteristic humour if I may call it that way. He had a way to make see how shallow you were. He always gave very low marks compared to the teacher of the other class (West). Mr Zvinairo could undress you just to take away the assumed importance in themselves to say they were now advanced level students. I remember how he asked us to make presentations in class. After my presentation he said, “Young man, have you ever listened to Thomas Mapfumo singing? You sounded like Mapfumo. Thanks God, Mapfumo has those girls to back here. Your presentation was in a monotone. You can do better next time!” Mr Zvinairo was also the head of department (geography). He would issue books to students. One day, after I got Holy Spirit-filled, I saw him quite troubled when I wanted to borrow books from the store room. “I can’t remember who took my Brian Knapp – Systematic Geography. I don’t have a record of who took it.” I didn’t tell him what I was going to do. I went home into my tinned shack and I prayed to God. He showed me the boy (who was in Upper West Arts). In the morning I approached the boy (his name started with an A). I said, “Mr Zvinairo wants his book back”. He said, “I know and I will bring it.” I went to Mr Zvinairo and told him I had found the person with his book. And he got it back. Mrs Charasika, Shona Teacher. I was confronted with indecision on which subject to drop, English Literature or Shona. Mrs Charasika soon found out that I was trying to push four subjects. She offered that I drop her Shona and told me because her class was just too full. Then I realised that English was giving me problems. The time, I tried to renegotiate for my place back Mrs Charasika was not ready to listen. I had to attend lessons the rest of form five by sitting near the window and pick what she was saying. I only formerly came into class after I had registered to write the subject. To prove Mrs Charasika wrong, I worked extremely hard in literature and grammar. Any question to do this I knew the only people I could ‘compete with’ were Desmond Jairosi, Misheck Muchimwe, Precious Manyeruke and (now Prof, chairman of the African Languages, University of Zimbabwe) Itai Muhwati. She came to refer complex issues to me in class. Sometimes we are chased away to then prove a point. Don’t feel threatened if people are not taking cognizance of you now. Dr. Eric Makura, Form 5, History Teacher. He was a good teacher. He always moved around with his thick doctoral thesis and would scold you if he spotted that you were not concentrating. He always called me, “Mwanangu”. He was to move to Belvedere Teachers College. I felt it was a better move because we could hardly agree with his philosophical approaches to History. Mrs. Banfa, Form 6, History Teacher. She was from Nigeria and her husband was a lecturer in the History Department at the University of Zimbabwe (later he moved to Africa University in Mutare). Mrs Banfa liked how I grasped concepts. He mainly taught us West African History. I remember her comments after I had written an essay: “A very conscientious student”. He liked my repentant heart whenever I made an ‘academic’ mistake and she made me to be aware that I was conscientious. Mr John Mutambwa, General Paper teacher. If there was a subject we really never bothered to value was General Paper. Mr Mutambwa shared this subject with other teachers I have since forgotten but we could be seen in numbers streaming into the school whole to attend this General Paper. Mr Mutambwa would tell delicious stories, rib-cracking stories and jokes and we liked his subject. Now he lectures in the Linguistics Department at the University of Zimbabwe and he says to me jokingly, “You may be a doctor but know I am your teacher!” Mr Muzvondiwa (Headmaster) became the headmaster after another headmaster who replaced Headmaster Chiwara had left. I always loved Mr Muzvondiwa’s fatherly approach. I had two face-to-face contacts with him. One, I was complaining of a certain teacher which the subject class was complaining about. I wrote a letter and threw it through his window. I put my name to the letter to show genuine I was. He called me and we discussed over the issue. I don’t know how things sorted themselves but they got sorted. The second encounter was when I wrote another letter, threw it through the window again, wrote my name and scribbled it out. He called me to his office and said it was me who had written this letter. Some prefects working in the library were monopolising question papers for revision purposes. So in my letter I was saying there was no point for our question papers were to be retained by the school (as was its rule) unless we all had free access to the question papers. In a few days, I saw things had changed for the better. When I went to have a testimonial letter to get into the university, Mr. Muzvondiwa told the deputy head, in a joking mood, “Write and say, Innocent gave us hard time here.” He wrote a good letter of me and wished me success in my university education. Mr. Chibanda (a metalwork teacher). He didn’t teach me but identified that I was a needy child. He bought me some brown nugget shoe polish and that gave a new picture of me. There were fellow students at Harare High who sympathised and comforted me. These include Oscar Chalmers (who always took me to their Addbernie home and we revised together), Munashe Zhanda (who though my staying in Sunningdale was a good stay only to be surprised I was staying in a shack). There was Winnie Chachona (who was staying somewhere in Eastlea and always played a role of a sister to me). There was also Morris Chivandire, our class monitor. Others include Susan Chirewa, Gideon Chiukira (komuredhi), Daphne, Patricia, etc. A level time was generally a tough time for me. I was often hungry. I would go via Siyaso to roll metallic sheet used for making door frames and earn a few dollars. This was a survival coping strategy. Then mother moved her market to town at what was Bata shop, Corner Bank Street, Charter and Leopold Takawira (paya pane toilet yekanzuru). She was selling mainly mushonga wemakonzo, wemapete and some other wares. University Education Mr Takawira Mubvami, taught me Environmental Systems and Professional Planning Practice, was chairman of department Mr Overson Chiyaka (Rural Planning; Introduction to Planning) Mr T Hove (Quantitative Techniques) Mr Tendayi Gondo (Quantitative Techniques and the Advanced Planning Theory (Masters) Mr (now Dr) Amini Kamete (Planning Theory, Planning Techniques, Urban Development and Management) Mrs (now Dr) Gaynor Paradza (Planning Thought and Practice) Mrs Kwangwama (Valuation and Property Development Engineer Elias Mudzuri (Introduction to Water Supply and Sewerage) Mr Killian Munzwa (Introduction to Building Infrastructure) Mr Tendai C Mbara (Introduction to Road Infrastructure) Mr Coenraad Brand (Policy, Rural Development and Research Methods at Masters) Dr Kenneth Odero (Regional Economics, Regional Planning, Regional Studio, Rural Institutions) Mr Mthokozisi Sidambe (Urban Policy and Planning and supervised both my BSc and MSc dissertations) Dr Hellena Vuckovic (City in History, Settlement Analysis and Urban Design 2) Mrs Celia Davison (Urban Design 1 and Planning Law) Mr Guardner I Manikai (Project Management) Mr. Mabaso (Project Planning) Mr Trynos CC Nyamvura, Design Studio 1 Mr. Joseph Binala, Design Studio 2 and 3 Mr. Peter Mafigu (Design Studio 3, before he passed away) Mr Augustine Dirwai (helped with photocopying, binding of projects, etc) Ms Patricia Pfende (always informed us about what was required of us especially during course registrations). M(r)s Mildred Mudimu (typing assignments) Doctoral Studies Professor Victor Ngonidzashe Muzvidziwa, always saying, “Zvakutoita chikomana. Good-good. You don’t have to tell people that you are pursing these studies. Let the result tell” Dr Sasha Jogi, saying, “My friend you sound Marxist” Professor Vupenyu Dzingirai, for saying, “Your methodology is weak you need to improve it. Otherwise unofoira.” Mr Joel Chaeruka, being Chairman, for assisting with stamping the papers and signing them. At university there were always fellow students who made feel I was worth – Esther Ngadya-Chidhakwa, Ngoni Kandeya, Mandhekosi Sibanda, Trynos Gumbo, Gibson Mapfidza, Tizai Mauto, Winnie Mutanda, Euwety Gumindoga, Ruramai Mombe, Tungamirai Fambirai, Walter Musakwa, Priscilla Muchibwa, Average Chigwenya, Amutshilani Tshuma, Bornface Mutale, Tobias Simango, Tapiwa Mukwashi, Fadzai Zimvumi, Peacemaker Duke, Laurence Munyuki, Kudzai Mberi, Kudzanai Mandudzo, to name but a few. In Luke 6:40, Jesus says, “The disciple is not above his master: but every one that is perfect shall be as his master.” I cannot claim I am now above my teachers. I have stood on the shoulders of the giants. They have expressed their love towards me by appreciating my person and faithfully not hiding what they knew could improve me. Some had to drive out the foolishness in me by the rod and yet other by word. For my friend and colleagues, Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” We have sharpened each other, sometimes by competition, a word of advice or even sharp criticism. Pastors Apostle E.H. Guti, for his various messages and teachings. I remember at the 1998 Greater Harare Youth Big Sunday at the City Sports Centre in teaching us, “Hautenderwi kugara muhomwe mako musina kana dhora.” His teachings have always been simple, inspiring and practicable. Apostle Jack Mhondiwa (the late), his unparalleled teaching of non-compromise and sincerity ever challenge me. He always spoke of how he lost his 17 cows to some elements and how his ‘Omega’ watch was stolen by people he knew but he forgave them. He talked over unwavering faith and he would rebuke you openly. Pastor Nevermind Nduna. I have always loved his teachings, simple, plain but well packaged. Apostle Christopher Kapandura. His teachings on “never must we sin”, have kept us holy and God-fearing to this day. He said in one of his teachings, “Someone with a vision will not sin because he considers: If I sin and die, who will complete my vision?” Pastor Gewa (Mkwezaramba), father to Obey, Yotam and Steve. He always was patient with me to tell me the goodness of the Lord. Because I absconded church so much, he would spot me on my way fromNeshangwe High School (for the road passed near the church). He would preach to me over the fence and tell me God was good for my life. Pastor David Changachirere (ba’ Peter), I came to like his evening revival services and wanted to hear more of his teachings. I remember his preaching on Fearing God and he finished by quoting Ecclesiastes 12; 13: “Zvino shoko guru pazvose zvatanzwa, heri: Itya Mwari, uchengete mirayiro yake; nokuti ndizvo zvakafanira vanhu vose.” He went on for a minute just repeating the word, “Itya Mwari, Itya Mwari, Itya Mwari, Itya Mwari, Itya Mwari, Itya Mwari...” It was as if he was pointing at me alone from the entire congregation. A made a few drops of tears and went on to practice that word. Pastor Changachirere always went to the mountains for 4 days at new year and would be there whether it rained or thundered or was very hot. Although I never joined him, I always secretly admired him for such great sacrifice and path. Evangelist Saungweme. I met him preaching the first time in 1996. I had never seen a man on fire with the anointing like him. I have always been his secret admirer. Evangelist Billy John Chigwenhembe (the late). He taught faith, miracles and about the Holy Spirit and the teachings anchored me strongly in the Lord. Pastor Chari (Imbayago). He always gave me time to evangelise in the church whenever I visited Sadza Church when he was pastor there) and called me, “muvhangeri). Rev. Shakespeare Munemo, (evangelist), for having pastor to my grandma in Sadza, in the 1970s. Grandma always talked about him and how certain young men were threatening to burn their tent for crusade in Chivhu in the ‘70s but through prayers and fastings, God quenched the threats. Rev Munemo has always thought grandma was my mum. Whenever he sees me, he takes me by his side, sometimes stroking one of my shoulders, he says (in a slow, deep and penetrative voice, “Chirisa! [silence, silence] Now you are forgetting the pastor of you mother because you are now staying in the suburbs?” In Sunningdale, whenever he was on leave from crusades, he would come and take a back seat and quietly attending the proceedings of the service. I preached in his presence several times and after that I would go and kneel down before him for correction. One day he said, “Chirisa! [silence, silence]. You have not spoken well. You should have done better!” and he would give a cocktail of homiletic hints and how to project you voice well. He would as explain the meaning and context of the scripture a bit. I always found his biting rebukes and encouraging teachings useful and applicable in my life. Apostle Langton Mupanduki, (was overseer for Harare Province East when I came to Harare). Back in the early ‘80s, he was hosted by my grandma for a fortnight in our home. I remember playing on his lap during a service at the then Sadza Church building. The ushers carried me away and I wondered why now they were being cruel taking me away from ‘mufundisi wekumba kwedu’. I think I never forgave those ushers. I have always had dialogue with Apostle Mupanduki and has always encouraged me to do well in the Lord. His teachings on soul winning, oikosis, attitude to name these three have always shaped the person I am. Pastor Eunice Matsikenyere (Harare East Principal Secretary), for being my pastor, 1997. Bishop Nelson Guti, for being pastor in the period 1997 to 1999. Pastor Pachavo Mhembere, my pastor, 1997-1998. He loved to teach pneumatology and I learnt a lot about the Holy Spirit and the anointing from him. He sent me to various houses to conduct home bible studies after he had learnt I was a holder of an advanced level certificate. He said to me, “If only you knew how dangerous you are with your education and God.” These words have inspired me to always do what I do. Pastor Consult and Louisa Chirambadare, for being my pastors, 1999-2002. For the first time, I felt the warmth of being pastors. Coming from London, I was surprised asking me to come and share breakfast with a poor boy like myself. I confided my life in them and I learnt to comfortably call them ‘father and mother’. I remember writing a long (oh yes, very long letter, about 8 or 9 pages in ink) to them in which I explained how my life had been hidden from me and how no one cared about. Pastor said, “It shall be well with you.” He also spoke very well of grandma, especially the days he had know about her when he used to do crusades in the Sadza area. Mrs Chirambadare would crush every reason for mischief . i remember one Saturday night, we cleaned the church to about 10p.m. She came to thank us. We said to her, “If we fail to come early tomorrow for service, don’t blame us you have seen how late we have been here”. She said, “if you know you are going to be late then try getting up at 5 (a.m.)!” We were cornered. The following day we were the earliest arrivals. Pastor Lovemore and Lizzy Shonhiwa, pastors, 2002-2005). They always gave me the opportunity to share the word of God and I loved it. I also was a leader of my small assemblies where I was always venerated as an able leader. Here and there we always clashed but “it all ended in the office”. Pastor Charlington Mubvundikwa (briefly in 2005). He was very useful at my wedding. We have maintained good conduct. Then I transferred to fellowship at Msasa. Pastor Prosper and T Mutumbwa, (2006-2007), the rib-cracking pastor. You would laugh you lungs out in his services. He would make sure he phones you almost every day and say, “Ndangoti ndizive kuti mutendi wangu ari sei.” Even now he skypes to me a lot and encourage me to do good in the Lord. Pastor Ozias Magudura, (2006 -2009). Quiet, easy going but tough, he and the wife have always encouraged us. When our wedding was almost crumbling he encouraged me and said not threats would even succeed. Apostle Amidu Saidi, 2007-2010. He always referred to my wife and I as “the missionaries” and his strong and prophetic messages saw us above the waters even in difficult times. I remember in 2008, when the landlady was hiking rentals willy nilly. I called him and he was at the Deeper Life Conference for Pastors, and he prayed on the phone, “Now, I command that you get income, far above all the hikings.” It happened and we never starved during 2008. Dr Stanley and Mary Moyana, (2010-2013). Dr Moyana always called me, “Professor” and I never rebuffed it. Pastor Happiness and Elizabeth Msiza, (2013 -). Their irresistible teachings and deep appreciation of my person never ceases to amaze me. I may have omitted some but these ones have had a direct touch with my life. Family I could speak of my great uncles, aunts, cousins, brothers and sisters but let me end here. Conclusion I thank God for “so great a cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1). Some are living. Other have passed on. The other day I was with chatting Mr Mugadza’s daughter (who also came to my office the other time asking to information on writing her MSc dissertation). She said to me, “I heard you are now doctor? Makorokoto. But I know also that my father has achieved through you!” Yes. Umuntu Ngumuntu Ngabantu (A person is a person because of people).