Whose problems are we solving?

SOMETIME last year, my parents tried to drill a borehole at their homestead. They drilled 60 metres from one point and found nothing. They tried from a second point and gave up after forty metres. The nearest source of water is kilometres away and so my parents have to spend their weekends ferrying water for the people, animals and plants back home.

Matabeleland has had water problems for as long as I can remember. As a young girl, growing up in the dusty streets of Gwanda, I used to hear about the “marvellous” Zambezi Water project. The plan is simple: to bring water from the mighty Zambezi River into the city! I could see the excitement on people’s faces as they spoke about it and I knew without a doubt, it was going to change all our lives for the better. It is with a heavy heart that I write about how we are yet to see that project materialise!

This situation has me wondering why this water problem seems to be impossible to solve. Yes, our region is drought prone; but I look at a country like Libya. A desert country known as the fifth, most water scarce area in the world; but they managed to create what they call the “Great man-made river”, which not only managed to supply people with fresh, clean water for consumption; it is also the world’s largest irrigation project. Gaddafi used to call it the Eighth wonder of the world, I have no reason to dispute that!

Seeing as there clearly is a solution to this crisis, the only question left is whose responsibility is it to bring water to Matabeleland? Whose mandate is it to raise the living standards of our people? Whose responsibility is it to solve our problems?

I look around me for answers and the first one that jumps at me is our literacy rate. Zimbabwe is said to have a literacy rate of around 91 percent. This is a rate we are proud of; a rate we shout for everyone to hear. This rate simply means that 91 percent of Zimbabweans can read and write, leading me to the belief that 91 percent of us, went to school.

What did we go to school to do, if not to solve our problems? Universities churn out thousands of graduates each year; all of whom carried out a research project as required by all universities and colleges. These projects are investigations into the situations bothering us, these projects seek to find solutions to the problems we face.

There is a problem somewhere! Research is being done from all corners of the country, at all levels; but none of Zimbabwe’s problems are being solved! Whose problems are we solving? If one of the most important requirements of becoming a graduate is to solve a problem; and we have had hundreds of thousands of graduates across generations, since we attained Independence in 1980; I am forced to ask: whose problems were they addressing in their 100-paged dissertations lining the walls of libraries right round the country?

I have come to the realisation that we have been sabotaging our own development for years by going to universities and colleges to conduct superficial researches. We get there and start thinking big, with our heads in the clouds and not a single thought about the communities from where we came.

Our architects, instead of designing huts that are inexpensive to build using locally available materials, huts that can withstand floods, whirlwinds and termites; are busy designing skyscrapers. Our scientists, instead of finding recipes for a mosquito repellent made from harmless, odourless and locally available herbs; are busy designing bombs so they get jobs in Iraq. Our engineers, instead of designing flush toilets and piped water for our rural areas are busy building submarines! Again I ask, whose problems are we solving? Whose responsibility is it to eradicate malaria? Is it that of the NGOs?

I believe that everyone must be forced to solve at least one problem in their own home or community before they are allowed to graduate. All students must conduct their research where they live or where they come from. It is high time we start solving real problems that we face each day in our homes, in our families, in our communities, in our districts, in our provinces; all that put together, is what we know as national development.

For; of what use is literacy, if it does not put food on the table?

Of what use is literacy, if it does not bring water to Matabeleland?

Of what use is literacy, if it does not electrify all of Zimbabwe?

It seems as if we all want to live in the cities. We want modern homes, electricity and hot piped water. This is the lifestyle and standard of living that our parents and grandparents wanted for us when they sent us to school. Have we ever stopped to think that this is also the lifestyle that they want for themselves too?

We have adopted a settler/colonial mentality, whereby we have convinced ourselves that people (our family) in the rural areas are tough, resilient and can handle harsh conditions. We seem to be of the sinister mindset that they even enjoy rural life; for I have heard how people romanticise living in the rural areas like it’s all fun and games. “If only I was ‘ekhaya’, I would spend my days picking fruits. Or, oh how I miss the good old days of cattle herding and ploughing!”

This attitude is what makes us neglect our responsibility of giving back to rural communities. It is this romanticising of poverty and underdevelopment that makes us turn our backs and treat our communities of origin as holiday homes instead of priorities.

I feel sad when I think of my parents’ dream borehole. I think of all the money they spent on my education and I feel ashamed that their investment has not paid off. For here I am, a “Geography guru”, but instead of solving water problems in Matabeleland South, I spent about $10 000 of their money in fees, boarding, food and transport, investigating low-cost housing settlements in Senga, Gweru? Whose problems did you solve, with your parents’ sweat and blood?