Dear Martha

Exploration of thought

19th Letter

Earlier today, I found myself in conversation with my sister, an exchange that triggered a reflection I did not anticipate. She was complaining, as younger sisters often do, half in disbelief and half in resigned anger, about her husband’s indulgence:… Continue Reading →

18th Letter

I don’t remember the first time I was wrong. But I do remember the first time I refused to admit it. Even as evidence mounted against my position, I clung to it, watching as faces shifted from engagement to exasperation…. Continue Reading →

17th Letter

Time slips past quietly when you’re not paying attention. It’s hard to believe I’ve been here almost ten years. A decade is long enough to raise a child, lose a parent, build and abandon a dream. And yet, here I… Continue Reading →

16th Letter

Marshall and I had been going back and forth for over three hours. What started as a casual conversation about innovation had spiralled into an intense debate over a so-called revolutionary invention. A device that supposedly produced free energy. Someone… Continue Reading →

15th Letter

I grew up in a world where “social media” simply meant being social in the most literal sense: chatting over fences with neighbours, gathering at the community market to exchange gossip, or walking to each other’s homes whenever we needed… Continue Reading →

14th Letter

There is an old Shona saying, chisi hachieri musi wacharimwa, some things do not bear fruit the same day they are planted. It is a lesson I have learnt in many ways throughout my life. We live in a time… Continue Reading →

13th Letter

Is it Plato the philosopher who once said love is a form of madness? You can list every reason you’re drawn to someone; gentle, kindness, eyes that sparkle like the stars; but those traits aren’t rare. They could belong to… Continue Reading →

12th Letter

I was young, a city boy with skinned knees and a picky tongue, exiled to her village for two weeks while my parents sorted out a life I wasn’t meant to understand. She met me at the bus stop where… Continue Reading →

11th Letter

It was the last night of the year, and Marshall’s parents’ house in Harare hummed with the kind of heat only a Zimbabwean summer could conjure. The year was 2012. Rodwell, Marshall, Beloved, Bafana, Bruce and I, six boys turned… Continue Reading →

10th Letter

Preface: A Warning I do not seek to be concise and coherent. I do not aspire to erudition or flawlessness. This is not an academic paper; it is a scream into a void we’ve all agreed to call “geopolitics.” If… Continue Reading →

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