By Lloyd Takawira
I write this letter , with so much sorrow and resentment to your flauntings . While you jostle theatrically to have pictures taken with us and leave in your SUVs and flamboyant vhuzis (cars) , have you thought of our predicaments.
While you leave for your state of the art flash houses in the posh low density suburbs , have you thought of our families who are struggling to put a simple meal on the table.
Deep down in the rural areas , as you leave in your posh cars , the dust from the graveled roads smoking us , some will be traveling over ten kilometers to and from school . Have you thought of us.
That year you visited our rural area you promised to build us a clinic alas it's been ages that promise hasn't been fulfilled yet you're here once again asking our parents to vote for you. To do what MR POLITICIAN . What evil is that .
Do you know that , the last time you visited us , Mai Jane died on her way to Chimukutu clinic which is over 20 kilometers from her village , Marutande . You never care for our basic needs because you think you're clever.
Can you imagine Mr Politician , that the same parents you're asking to vote for you , some of them were retrenched and never got a single pen owing to your actions .
Can you imagine that Mr Politician that our parents are going through serious challenges. Some of the challenges has left us destitutes . Sending us to school is nolonger an easy task , while you're kids are going overseas to learn.
Mr Politician can you self introspect!!!
Dear Politician l encourage you to read , "The cry of a child"
by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
Yes Elizabeth never minced here words in her poem. She wrote a very piercing piece that l would want you to read , maybe you can change your mentality.
In case you have never come across her poem .
She said:
" Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years ?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, —
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows ;
The young birds are chirping in the nest ;
The young fawns are playing with the shadows ;
The young flowers are blowing toward the west—
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
They are weeping bitterly !
They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free."
Yes Mr Politician , l rest my case with a clarion call for you to desist from abusing us for selfie pictures . Address our plight Mr Politician.
Yours truly
The Child ( Zimbabwe)
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