The Story of 5 Bags

 

I have always had a default answer ready for when I am asked why I never considered leaving Zimbabwe.

Many have heard it, it goes something like this…

“I am in an abusive relationship with this country, it does me wrong but I love it!”

And then I would add…

“I can’t imagine living too far from my family, right now on any given weekend I can miss home (Bulawayo) and be on a bus’. Something I did very often too.

sometimes I would also add…

‘We can’t all leave, some of us have to stay’

And so it was that I was stayed in the abusive relationship and was more than happy to do so.

I was comfortable, the relationship was familiar, and the coping mechanism were entrenched.

Not a single fantasy of immigration.

I was happy to travel and see the world and come back to my abusive lover, Zimbabwe.

However, sometimes (read most times) God (whoever/whatever you perceive him to be) listens to our plans and laughs.

The nature of my employment is such that sometimes growth entails having to venture into other markets and that was the situation I found myself in.

Four months ago I packed my bags, the bags you see in the image and left everything familiar.

Someone would think that I am exaggerating a move across the Limpopo, its just South Africa. But listen, for someone who never imagined leaving Zimbabwe this is HUGE!

Its been an interesting four months, I hope to share some frustrations, joys and realizations with you soon.

(To reel you in) I will leave you with this; I once got soooo lost I turned down the car radio volume, when that didn’t help me find my way I took off my wig to ‘free my head’ and help me concentrate. If you are wondering why I wasn’t using using GPS, guess what? I was using GPS.

Go ahead and laugh, I laughed at me too.

A bien tot…