I am taken back by the quote, “to leave home is to break your own heart”.
I recently got back from home. It has been close to six years living in a foreign land. My body is here but my soul and mind are still in Zim. I am kind of finding it hard to adjust. Funny right? I find myself daydreaming about the beautiful moments I had. It was a short time, but every moment was beautiful including the fights with my little sister.
I remember talking to this guy telling him that bird tweets woke me up, unlike in German where your problems wake you up before the alarm. You have to be even grateful if you fall asleep. The weather was just constant and perfect every day. The sun cast a luminescent glow at night we had full moons and stars were remote pinpricks. Around 17:00 I would take the dogs for a walk; the last rays of sun skimmed the surface. Nothing brings me joy like watching the sun sinking towards the horizon, the pitiless white ball now an angry orange.
I said so much about the weather my greatest highlight was seeing my parents and my two siblings in good spirits and finally visiting my sisters resting place. I managed to visit most of my relatives, I was always on the road. On Sunday I went to church, it felt good seeing everyone. Singing Shona hymns and just hearing the sermon in your mother’s tongue. And to finally giving the testimony of Gods goodness in my life.
I went to the city one afternoon; nothing is crazier like walking down the streets of Harare. There is chatter between sellers and buyers, Hwindis spitting vulgar words like its normal. Its busy for sure but the hustle and bustle brings life to this city. I loved the vibe and energy. I had missed walking down the street without being stared at.
I might have left home but I carried the memories with me. Surely there is no place like home.