Here's to Zim

All good things come to an end. On September 1st, I left for Zimbabwe. Two and a half weeks later, I am back in Europe, where I can look back on an amazing time in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Whilst it was easy for me to write my previous blogs, I am somehow struggling to find the right words for this one. How do you summarise a trip in which you have seen, experienced, and learnt so much as I have in the past two weeks?

When I came to Zimbabwe, I was feeling nervous. It was my first time on a continent I had never been to. It was my first time in a country I had read so much about that I already felt a deep connection with this place and its people. Yet, going there all by myself with one big task ahead - making sure that I could return for my field work - was truly nerve-wracking. Although my supervisor had told me my PhD did not necessarily depend on this one trip, it felt like it did. This was my time to introduce myself properly, to establish networks, and to ask for permission to return next year.

I started my PhD a year ago, yet doing research from behind your desk is something different fromgoing into communities and talking to people who face the difficulties that you have only read about. You need to respect cultural values which you are hardly aware of, work around officials who keep an eye on you, and explain people that despite your interest in their story, you cannot do anything to alleviate their pain - even when they expect you to. Most of all, you need to listen, ask the right questions, and be objective, for you must never influence their stories. Although I found that easy during the interviews and conversations I had with people, I later experienced strong emotions in response to what I had just learnt. This blog was supposed to be a research blog, but I recognise that I may have used it as a means to vent about the wide spread injustices that I have come across…

My first time in Zimbabwe has been a life-changing experience. It has been a time in which I learnt so much about the world that it allowed me to grow as a person. And despite the pain and hardship that I witnessed daily, this research trip was an incredibly positive experience. When I told someone here that it was my first time in Africa, he said that from now on, it will only get better. I don’t think I agree. I have never been to other places on this continent, but I cannot imagine how there can be a country with people more lovely, peaceful, and strong, and where nature is more beautiful than here.

But most of all, I cannot imagine a country with people more resilient than those of Zimbabwe. In a mere two decades, the people of Zim witnessed how their country changed from the bread basket of Africa into a place of extreme poverty. This is a place where hyperinflations follow each other up, where everyone - rich and poor - seek an opportunity to leave, and where entire communities are washed away because of climate change. It is a place of hardship, yet despite the grief over their lost future, people still soldier on.

Many people in Zimbabwe do not believe there is a future for their country. Those who can, try to leave. Especially the highly educated people, who are passionate about Zimbabwe and who are talented enough to make a difference, go away. But not everyone leaves. On my last day in Harare, I saw Fadzayi Mahere: an absolute badass of a lawyer, who works as the spokesperson of the opposition. She has served time in prison for a couple of times, but every time she comes out, she continues with her commitment: to seek justice for her country. On Twitter, Fadzayi describes herself as a “hopeful Zimbabwean”. It is a message so powerful that it encourages millions of people to stay strong and hopeful, even when it sometimes feels like there is nothing left to hope for.

I recently read a post on Instagram in which someone said they refused to call people “resilient”, because they believe resilience is born out of bare necessity, it is not a choice. I don’t agree. As someone who has known extreme hardship herself, I know from experience that resilience is a choice. Choosing to persevere, even when you feel weak, and no longer believe there is any hope, may not be easy. But you can always choose to do so. That is exactly what I have seen in Zimbabwe. I’ve seen it in people who choose to leave but plan to come back. I’ve seen it in people who want to leave, but feel stuck. I’ve seen it in teachers who struggle to get by and need at least 5 side-hustles in order to survive. I’ve seen it in young people, in old people, and no doubt, we will also see it in the future generation. That is why I do believe that some day, this country will prosper again. And I hope I will live to see the day.

Unsurprisingly, my research also tells the story of injustice, though a different kind. All over the world, communities which have contributed least to climate change, are experiencing the worst effects. The people in the places where I have been have lost their livelihoods, houses, livestock, and loved ones. These are places where people have gone so hungry after years of failed harvests, that parents abandon their children and migrate to South Africa. These are communities where mothers seek clients for their twelve-year-old daughters who had to offer their bodies for food after Idai. This is a country where girls as young as eleven choose to marry because they believe it is the only way to survive.

Though it may be unconventional, I did not become a researcher for the sake of research. In my opinion, knowledge must be used for change. When I wrote my Master’s dissertation about climate displacement and gender inequalities, and found that early indicating evidence suggested that in areas seriously impacted by climate shocks, more girls marry young, I could not forget what I then knew. Being from an area that has contributed most to climate change, yet suffers least, comes for me with a sense of responsibility. For too long, our governments have closed their eyes, told their people that the resources of our earth are endless. For too long, citizens have gladly accepted this lie. Why? Because acknowledging that they too are responsible for the greatest challenge of our lifetime, is uncomfortable. It makes us reconsider our own behaviour, and pushes us to amend our lifestyle.

Therefore, I chose to embark on a PhD because I want to shed light on how climate change is impacting communities which bear the brunt of it. I know that in order to finish my PhD, I will need to stay objective and observant. After all, that is what researchers do. And although it is not easy to stay objective amidst so many injustices, I know I will have to as well. Yet, I won’t deny that it is my deepest wish that ultimately, my research will put on the foreground the struggles of people who cannot and must not be ignored, laughed at or forgotten, in the hope that one day in the near future, our governments will take responsibility for the damage we have done to nature, and to people in countries like Zimbabwe. Here's to Zim.