My womb is my wealth….
Limpopo River to the South
Zambezi River to the North
Creation placed me between two great rivers sealing my boundaries
In my womb, wealth abound
Not by man’s doing does it exist
By providence l am given
To the sons and daughters of the soil
Hence, they call me motherland
Minerals tapped and untapped
Are dotted across my length and breath
Minerals of diverse nature
Gold, copper, iron, you name it all
Any of your choices has never run out of my womb
Use of resorts is of wide range
Many people are spoilt of choice
Houses of stones they call it (Dzimba Dzemabwe)….
Designed by my sons and daughters….
Heading to Chinhoyi caves Njelele shrine is placed in my structure…
Mosi- Oa- Tunya, the smoke that THUNDERS giving a morning breeze and a longing to eye it over and over again….
Not to mention those unnamed amazing regions dotted across my length and breath
They all resemble the beauty of my nature
Beautiful designs decorated inside my womb….
My culture, norms, and values are deeply rooted, so they are…
These make me a great concern
My anchor in today’s troubled world
Full of culture dynamism
And l guard them jealously against venomous and toxic morals
To preserve my culture relics
I am on an endless journey with my granddaughters
Like they say:
“A woman is the backbone of every household( musha mukadzi)…
I want my girls to inherit my nature, beauty, and cultural ethics…..
Oral tradition is the vehicle that l carried in my womb
Passed it on from one generation to another..
My culture is vested in my norms and values…
Miss Zimbo Culture is just an offspring of my womb
That will dominate the existence of women…
Small as l might be seen, teapot shaped when viewed in sight of others
Yet I am under the spotlight of the world’s heavy weights…
For good and bad progressive forces
Fall on each other to get the first call to enquire and acquire what is inside my womb…
For my deliverance is always great news…
The mother of sons and daughters of the soil
My life, past and present, has been categorized by bitter struggles
Struggle for freedom and dignity…
Claiming and reclaiming what is rightfully mine…
My name once changed for another at some point…
To this, l said no and brushed aside with ease
Here l am claiming back the dignity of womanhood of my tribes…
Like a mother defending her territory
Miss Zimbo Culture is borne out of my womb
Embracing culture and dignity preserved
for today and tomorrow’s generations
It called for courage, self-denial, and sacrifice…..
A protracted gruelling and bitter war raged, resulting in blood, sweat, and tears pouring out with and within my boundaries….
Running around restless during daylight
Spending sleepless nights
Accompanied by my sons and daughters
Who became national heroes and heroins
I stood up and got my freedom back…
Like a virtous mother to the sons and daughters of soil
I am holding on to my heritage…
My door is open to all, with an olive branch l extend to all….
Foes and friends, we are all equal in sight of God….
I have put the ill-past behind in honour and love…
The wounds are healed totally….
I am a mother that accommodates everyone fairly….
My girls carry my resemblance. Miss ZIMBO Culture is the title l give them….
Not forgetting my neighbours and foes….
I embrace you with love and care, and don’t hesitate to jump and board my boat as we sail away on this exciting journey….
A journey of culture restoration, a journey of celebrating Heritage and Embracing IDENTITY..
With open arms, l am a welcoming mother to all
Zimbabwe is my name
Houses of stones I am the Great Zimbabwe….
Solid rock l am affirm defending and protecting my well-being….
Working for an institute structuring global peaceful co- existence
And l also dwell on my culture existence….
Miss Zimbo Culture represents my heritage
Passed from one generation to another….
All is carried inside my womb.
The mother of sons and daughters of the soil…
MY WOMB – MY WEALTH
~Sharon Munodawafa