Your People Will Be My People: A Memoir

By Sebastian Bakare and Herman C. Waetjen

In 2008, Bishop Bakare was awarded Sweden's Per Anger Prize, an international award set up for those fighting for human rights and democracy. In his acceptance speech, Bishop Bakare talked about his parishioner Jestina Mukoko, who was missing after having been kidnapped from her home in the middle of the night. He also spoke about Itai Dzamara, a young activist and critic of then-Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe, who had also disappeared.

That speech memorializing Zimbabwe's struggle to become a truly democratic nation is at the heart of Bishop Bakare's memoir, and it reflects his own life that encompasses all of Zimbabwe's modern history. When he was a child, Bishop Bakare's family was evicted from their home and lost their livelihoods when white settlers invaded and stole their land. As a young man he was forced to flee after criticizing the white occupiers. The joy of returning from exile to vote in Zimbabwe's first election was soon replaced by his realization that the Mugabe regime was corrupt and his countrymen and women were still impoverished and repressed. Still, he returned to Zimbabwe, with his beloved wife, Ruth, and his daughters to strive to answer the call he heard, while still in secondary school from Isa 6:8: "Then I heard the voice of the Lord. He said, 'Who will I send? Who will go for us?' I said, 'Here I am. Send me!'"

Bishop Bakare's fight for freedom for all God's people and, especially, the people of Zimbabwe, culminated in his accepting the position of interim bishop of Harare when Mugabe was backing breakaway Bishop Nolbert Kunonga. That role led him into direct and dangerous conflict with Mugabe's forces, even into a standoff with armed men during Sunday mass.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781666763034

Book preview

Chapter One

Beginnings and a Call

In the beginning, I am faced with the question of identity. Put simply: Who am I and where did I come from?

In Zimbabwe, we identify each other by the totem of one’s clan. When a woman marries, she retains her totem with her.

I belong to the Bakare clan, which has three totems, or spirit symbols: The Dziwa, Sawe, and Sambiri.

Daiwa means a pool—very often referring to living water—where amphibians such as frogs, crocodiles, or hippopotamuses can afford to live a double life, while fish confine themselves to Dziwa, their permanent habitation. Dziwa is the kingdom of the crocodiles; if human beings stray into their domain, crocodiles would make a feast out of them. The River Rusingapwi, which means the perennial river, that ran through my birthplace, Epiphany, was free from crocodiles and so we children could enjoy our samba (swim) without fear. We grew up being true children of the river.

Sawe is the name of a river that flows between Manicaland and Mashonaland, East Provinces, into the Indian Ocean. According to a traditional story, when our forebears escaped from KwaZulu Natal, they went northeast and ended up in Mozambique, where they followed a river called Sawe. They hid as they went along the river, most likely spending some time walking along the banks like amphibian creatures, emerging on land where they felt safer because the river was, and still is, infested with vicious crocodiles. (Many Zimbabweans crossing the Limpopo River to South Africa have been victims of those crocodiles.) My forebears were nicknamed the people from the river, meaning the river Sawe and that became the totem of the clan.

The word Sambiri comes from two words: samba, meaning to wash, and mbiri, meaning famous swimming people.

Some people might construe these stories as myth, but as in every myth, there is always a grain of truth. I am convinced that a long distance on foot from KwaZulu Natal to Zimbabwe via Mozambique, more than 2,000 kilometers, had many dangers involved, whether you went along the banks of the river or inland.

Dziwa, Sawe, and Sambiri: all my identities are related to water. My totems are used as pleasantries when people greet each other; when people meet or before they sit down to discuss business. At the end of their business, they bid farewell to the host, saying, Goodbye, Sawe (or Dziwa or Sambiri), or Thank you, Dziwa, as a sign of appreciation by mentioning the totem. This is how the practice was kept alive and handed down to my generation. To be addressed by one’s totem is a sign of