This traditional wisdom must have been borne out of hundreds of years of observation as succession processes were managed in a manner that caused as little strife as possible.
We must have been reminded of this custom by the death of General Solomon Mujuru and the happenings that followed it. It was impossible not to announce Gen Mujuru’s death because of the circumstances, which are markedly different from the days of traditional chieftainships.
Unlike in the years of yore when kings mostly died natural deaths surrounded by those closest to them, these days the situation is such that public figures are just that —public figures.
The death of Gen Mujuru has left the country in a very volatile mood; no matter what the probe being carried out will say, no one will believe it as long as it does not say he was murdered. No one will be convinced by candlelight theories; there are too many fundamental questions which these theories cannot answer.
Because of the scarred nature of our society, the majority interested in this death will not even believe that he was killed by business rivals, even if the probe proves this to be so. Zimbabweans, like everyone else, want a juicier story; something like the death being a result of political intrigue. That is why the nation should now be wishing we were back in the days of traditional kingdoms!
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The popular interest in Gen Mujuru’s death goes beyond the simple yearning for justice; it is a yearning for the mischief that will naturally follow if it is proven that he was assassinated by political opponents. This is just how deeply sick our society has become.
Now a question arises: who really, really needs to know how the general died? To whom is the death really a matter of life and death?I will hazard an answer: his wife Vice-President Joice Mujuru and his children.
They are the only people who really need closure to this so they can have peace of mind; they are the only people motivated by the pure need for justice.
The rest of us are just vultures hovering above waiting to dive for a few pieces of carrion. This is not to call for a cover-up. If our nation was not so sick, people would now already be talking about moving forward by analysing General Mujuru’s life, not his death, for death is inevitable.
On Wednesday last week, Alpha Media Holdings chairman, Trevor Ncube sent his management team a poem that must have changed their lives. Whether in sending it he had in mind Gen Mujuru’s life or not, the poem needs to be read by everyone in the aftermath of his death (see coloured box).
General Mujuru chose to live a life that mattered; many a testimony from those who knew him confirms this. What this means is that the death of a great man or woman can actually be turned into a new beginning.
The enduring image accompanying the death was that of State Security minister Sydney Sekeramayi weeping uncontrollably, like a baby. Everyone who saw him must have also experienced the pain he must have been going through.
But this is also the pain that so many families experienced when their loved ones were killed in political violence perpetrated mostly by members of his party in periods leading to elections.
It is salutary that testimonies on Gen Mujuru say that he was against any form of political violence; he also never called for anyone’s death through party slogans so entrenched in the Zanu PF psyche.
Sekeramayi’s tears and those of other members of Zanu PF must have driven the point home — that death brings the ultimate pain to those who remain behind and to wantonly cause it, as we have witnessed in the past decade, is the evilest thing that any human being can do.
In, untypically, calling for peace at the National Heroes Acre at the burial of the general, President Robert Mugabe must have put himself in the shoes of all those multitudes who wept like his comrades did after losing their loved ones during the madness that accompanied our elections.
That could be a new beginning built on the foundation of what mattered in Gen Mujuru’s life.Personally, I wouldn’t care a hoot if I never got to know how General Mujuru died, but I would weep uncontrollably if his legacy is buried with his ashes.
What will matter
Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear.So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire.The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.Even your gender and skin colour will be irrelevant.So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; Not what you got, but what you gave.What will matter is not your success, but your significance.What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught.What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example.What will matter is not your competence, but your character.What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will say that they knew you, and feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you.What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.Choose to live a life that matters.
Michael Johnson
BY NEVANJE MADANHIRE
