What does Uhuru mean?

July 21st, 2016 Words by Tendai Murisa

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As we celebrated 36 years of independence over the weekend, it seemed natural to rethink what independence, freedom and democracy really mean especially in the context of the recent demonstration led by the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). As usual, several op eds appeared in the main newspapers arguing from both sides, reminding us of how far we have come since 1980 and/ or how little has changed. The Sunday Mail graciously reminded us that the liberation from the white supremacist rule of Rhodesia was no small feat, and that since 1980 Zimbabwe has attained one of the highest literacy rates in Africa. Mhetu in an editorial in the Daily news (2015), goes so far as to argue that little has changed since the Unilateral Declaration of Independence by the Rhodesian state in 1965, except the race of our oppressors and the reasons for our oppression. Like any other 36 year old, Zimbabwe has been looking back and examining her achievements, failures and interrogating the true meaning of Uhuru – freedom.

Uhuru, the Swahili word for freedom, was the embodiment a whispered dream in Rhodesia. A dream of liberty, equality, opportunity and prosperity that fuelled the hopes of the oppressed and drove those who were risking life and limb in the ‘Chimurenga’ (war of liberation). Uhuru was the promise of what a post-colonial Zimbabwe would look like and thus after 1980, Independence became synonymous with Uhuru, but over the last few years many have begun to question this notion. A Zimbabwe Situation op ed for Independence day in 2014 argued, “Meaningful independence must entail the right to vote, act, speak, or think as one wants. It, crucially, must also include freedom from economic misery and dependency, as is now widespread in a supposedly free Zimbabwe. All these rights remain a pipe dream for most Zimbabweans”. The march organised by the MDC last week was an expression of the shared frustration by the citizens over the current economic situation, the seeming indifference of the ruling class, and yet those who participated and those who stayed away expected to be met with the usual heavy handed riot police dispersing the crowds with teargas, water cannons and batons forces. The perceived corruption and the mismanaged funds that led to US$15 billion of diamond sales revenues remaining unaccounted for has fuelled the frustrations. It has become apparent that the ruling elite place political survival over the broad socio-economic needs of the nation, thus many continue to question the meaning of our 18^th April holiday.

The Zimbabwe Situation op ed from 2014 suggests that, “… our National Day has lost its meaning beyond the crass politicking and free football matches that our government perennially dishes out on this day.” The Uhuru that was promised does not equate to the independence we got. Not to diminish the value of independence from the white supremacist rule of Rhodesia, but rather to remind ourselves that even under an oppressive apartheid regime we dreamed of more, and we must continue to demand it from our leaders. We ask ourselves how we got here, how we moved from the idealistic hopeful people who embraced independence with an impassioned vigour only to find ourselves a fearful and acquiescent population. Several text messages were circulated during the demonstration on the 14^th warning people to stay out of town fearing the expected violent response from the state. Instead of sharing messages warning of a demonstration, we must be claiming more space to participate and to be heard. Wangari Maathai says, “Dis-empowerment – whether through a lack of self-confidence, apathy, fear, or inability to take charge of one’s own life – is perhaps the most unrecognised problem in Africa today.”

Murisa (2016) traces back the evolution of public participation over the last three decades in a chapter aptly titled “Not yet Uhuru”. He makes the assertion that “The recent period has also exposed the weaknesses of representative democracy – the elected members of the political class have shown beyond reasonable doubt that they do not have the capacity to rule by themselves without being constantly reminded by the citizens of their pledge to serve”. This assertion applies to both sides of the isle posing difficult questions on how participation and political engagement has shrunk to the mere ritual of elections; where the politics has become more focused on personalities than on policy issues. With political agendas being driven by the political elite, the seeming disengagement on the part of the citizenry, who have been relegated to the role of voter, is unsurprising.

Our democracy is dependent on what Murisa (ibid) refers to as a “watchdog-like citizenry”. The spirit of Uhuru may require that we deepen again the participation beyond protests and elections; that we broaden the scope of democracy beyond the ability to have free & fair elections and free speech. It may require that we re-imagine freedom beyond the ideal of majority rule to the people actually governing.