God visited me again. He opened my eyes. I was working at a high school. That gave me the opportunity to register for two more subjects. The studying materials were there, so how could I fail? I would work during the day. After school I would nurse my dear son. When he went to bed, I would start studying. I registered for two subjects: English language and isiNdebele, my own language.

At that time, I took Dudu from my parents and she stayed with me while her siblings were staying with their father back at home in the village. Every Friday I would walk to see my lovely sons and daughter, and then back to Dula on Sunday evenings.

In November 1998, I sat for the examinations and passed IsiNdebele but failed English language. I did not give up. I decided to register again so that I could write June exams in 1999. I had no money but the Deputy Head, Mr Stanley Nyamhandu, helped me with the money to register.

I had to register at Matopo Mission School, fifty kilometres away, because no June examinations were held at Dula. The examination day approached. That week it rained so much that the buses could not move on the muddy roads. I decided to walk as the rain continued pouring. Thank God I was able to arrive the day before the exam. A kind Christian couple, the Dewa’s, accommodated me for the night and early the following morning I went to the exam room. Trusting God for everything, I wrote then I started the long journey back. Mrs Dewa kindly lent me her warm jersey and I arrived safely at Dula.

I continued with my job. My income was so low that I could only just buy enough food and buy clothes for my children.

In August, I went to collect my results. Yes, I had finally made it! I could go to college and train as a teacher – but because of the children I was not in a position to go yet. I was the breadwinner; no-one was going to pay their school fees. And so I stayed on at Dula until 2002.

Dudu came out with wonderful passes in her O Levels and I sent her to a high school in Bulawayo where she could do her Advanced Level (A Level). I asked her aunt to accommodate her because I could not afford to pay the boarding fees. With the help of my parents, I just managed to pay school fees.

That year, 2002, I told myself that God must be God in my situation. He would provide for my children at home, for Dudu’s fees and my collage fees. I was prepared to go to college and do my diploma in education.

But before I left I encountered an agonising incident that developed in me a passion and love for orphans. There were two girls who were best friends to my daughter. They were from the same family, but the one had no mother. The woman who was looking after them decided to secretly pay for her own daughter’s exam fees, and did not pay for the motherless girl. Worse – she lied and said she had not paid for her own daughter either.

I wonder what caused the wronged girl to come and find out if it was true? Not knowing the reason why she asked, as clerk I told her that other girl’s exam fees were paid. The girl cried bitterly – I was touched. I sacrificed. I had a few dollars to buy food and pay my maid. Instead I decided to pay the examination fees for that lovely girl.

They sat the exams and she passed with flying colours. The cousin’s sister did not pass. My soul was lifted up. I had a dream that one day I will extend my hand to needy children, especially those without mothers. I had needy children myself, but just because I was there for them I could do much to make them better people.

With the help of the two headmasters and a relative of my husband I secured a place to train as a teacher at JM Nkomo Polytechnic in Gwanda and started in September 2002. It was tough because going to college meant starting on a new life, where we had no house. I felt I could not leave my children in the rural areas so I took them to Gwanda. We rented a small room where we crowded together on the floor. Our one plate stove was put on top of a bucket.

I needed money to pay my registration fees, buy stationery, transport to and from college, rent, and school fees for my children, their new uniforms and food.

I cannot explain how I managed at that point. God was in control of the situation. I do remember a man named Francis Ndlovu, administrator at Zimbabwe Open University in Gwanda, who lent me the money for the registration.

As if my problems were not enough, when Dudu was about to write her A Level examinations, she had a serious misunderstanding with her aunt and phoned me, saying she could no longer live there.

I remember lifting my hands up to God and praising him for everything that was happening at that time. God gave me peace of mind. I phoned the school and asked for her to be given a boarding place. I had no money to phone again later to find out if she had the place so I went to our Pastor Zimucha’s home to call. As soon as I said to the Headmistress, Miss Ndebele, “I am Dudu’s mother…” she replied with, “I have given her a place to stay in.” I dropped the receiver and praised the Lord.

As I tried to explain the whole story to the Pastor, Dudu knocked at his door. She had come for her boarding fees, bags and other materials. I was expected to submit a number of assignments and attend to lectures. The living God gave me the strength to take the role of mother and student at the same time. I told the devil that no matter what, I will get my diploma and educate my children at the same time.

I asked the College for one day to go back to the rural areas, and I took Dudu with me. We got transport that left us twelve kilometres away from home. We passed by Wabayi village where we had a relative whose children attended boarding schools. My aim was to beg for a metal school trunk. We arrived in the evening and the lady, Mrs Nkala, was kind enough to give us an old one.

With my daughter’s help I put the trunk on my head and we walked through the bushes at night to my father’s home, four kilometres away. As I did this, my heart was filled with joy, I never blamed anyone.

At around 9.30 p.m. we arrived at my parent’s. I told them the situation. My father quickly took his paint brush and mixed tar with other liquid and started painting the metal box. He painted the scratched top only and now the trunk looked good with its two colours. Meanwhile my mother was busy looking for the best blankets and clothes that she could give to Dudu. When the trunk was dry, she packed the items neatly.

Early the next morning I left Dudu with my parents and went to Dula Secondary School to ask for financial assistance. Mr Nyamhandu was kind enough to lend me enough for Dudu’s boarding fee.

I left Dudu with my parents and found my way back to Gwanda.

***

Tell us what you think: Life believes God provided all the material help she received. Do you agree? How did her strong religious belief help her in non-practical ways?