Time passed by and each day had its own problems but none stopped me from pursuing my studies. The end of 2002 bought joy, because Dudu passed her A Levels. Despite the hardships, Bonani, Musa and Mandla were also doing extremely well. This inspired me a lot. I wanted to pass, and educate all these clever kids.

Dudu now wanted to be a lawyer. I was still a student and I was about to go out on teaching practice. I told Dudu that I would not afford the university fees. She wrote a letter to me, reminding me how I struggled to educate her to A Level. Then as I was about the reach the finishing line of the letter, I wanted to faint. She reminded me of the God we worship. I stood up at once, picked up my cross and soldiered on.

At the time my husband’s aunt, Mirriam Madlela, was Headmistress at Saint Christopher’s Primary School in Gwanda. She gave me psychological support and hope, and also connected me to people who gave me financial support towards Dudu’s university fees.

Then I thought of my older brother, Witness, and his wife Alice who worked in Johannesburg. I once again used my Pastor’s phone to make a call, and my dear late brother and his lovely wife agreed there and then to lend me the registration money. They had savings to buy a house back home in Bulawayo.

Now I had to get to Bulawayo to access the money. I ran to aunt Miriam for the bus money. My brother’s in-laws lived in a township far from the bus terminus and I had no knowledge of Bulawayo. All I had was the house number written on a piece of paper, and the name of the township: Sizinda.

I saw a man decently dressed and I just trusted God that he was not a con man. I told him that I had a serious problem and I needed to get to Sizinda quickly, but I had no taxi fare, and I did not know the place. He immediately gave me the money and showed me the taxi rank and wished me well. He never asked me about my problem. I saw in him the holy hand of the Lord.

My brother’s in-laws readily gave me the money because my brother had phoned them, and I went back to Gwanda feeling like a heroine. People helped with some utensils and a two plate stove for Dudu and the following morning, I put the money in some pantyhose and tied it around her waist for safety. Dudu left to start her degree in Masvingo, and fortunately had the mentorship of our church’s Pastor there.

Criticism continued. People whom I expected to help were laughing their lungs out saying I would never be able to educate these children. Today I warn people never to look down on others, because they never know what God has in store for their future.

That same month, I was deployed at the local school, Jahunda Primary, to do my teaching practice. I started well under the mentorship of Mrs Hleruka, a hard-working and kind lady.

All the allowance I got for teaching practice went to support Dudu, and so the other kids were almost starving. As a result, in desperation, I went to a money-lender. It was difficult for me to pay them back because of course they added interest and the amount went up and up to three times the amount I was earning. A friend, Bimbayinashe Moyo, came to my rescue just as I was about to be forced to leave my course and probably go to jail over the debt.

I worked hard under the supervision of wonderful staff there, who motivated and guided me and gave motherly love. Wherever I needed help, they were there for me. Finally, I went back to college to do my final year. I graduated in 2005.

At that time Bonani and Musa were at the same school, that is Gwanda Government High School. Mandla and Thembi at primary school. My dream was to see all of them carrying their own degrees. However, I was now faced with the challenge of paying back all the money I had borrowed from friends and relatives plus rent, transport and food for my family.

I got a teaching post at Mafuku Primary School in the rural areas, about 100 kilometres from Gwanda. I was forced to leave Bonani, Musa and Mandla, but I took Thembi with me. Despite the cost, I made it a point that every Friday I went to Gwanda to see my children. On Sunday I would go back.

Dudu was doing well at university although she had financial challenges. Our Pastors Zimucha and Muzondo did all they could to support her, but when Dudu was about to write her final examinations, poverty was ruling my life. Where was the exam fee to come from? My husband was in Botswana looking for a job, so he was no help.

I went back to Mirriam Madlela. She gave me hope and connected me to Thandeka Mnkandla, the Mayor of Gwanda. He gave me Dudu’s examination fees. I then went to my parents to ask for help because I had no means of paying back the money. As before, my dear mother managed to convince my father to give Mr Mnkandla two oxen. Dudu would help us replace them when she graduated.

Dudu also comforted me by saying, “Mom, ngizazesula lziyembezi zeminyaka,” meaning that she would ‘wipe away the tears’. She kept her promise, because today she is my pillar of strength. In 2006 she graduated from Masvingo State University, ending up with a degree in Social Sciences rather than law. She decided to head to South Africa to look for work, as jobs were scarce in Zimbabwe.

In that year I was a teacher at Impu Primary School. I could not believe it when the Headmaster told me that he had submitted my name to the NGO Campaign for Female Education (CAMFED), to train as a mentor to orphans and widows. My new dream was becoming reality. That same year I registered with the Zimbabwe Open University. I was accepted to study a Bachelor of Science in Physical Education and Sport.

But in September 2007 a dark shadow came. I was to start my degree, and that week I was supposed to graduate and get my certificate from CAMFED. That week I got a death threat from a family member. It was a political issue. For my safety and the safety of my children I had to leave and cross the border to South Africa, where my husband had gone to seek employment. Giving only three days of notice, I left with Thembi.

The worst thing was that Bonani and Musa were at a boarding school. Bonani was about to write his A Level examinations and he needed my support. I remember him saying, “Mom, why can’t you wait until I’ve finished my examinations?”

On my arrival to South Africa, life was hard and made worse by marriage problems. We were in Masiphumelele township outside Cape Town. Although I was earning very little money in Zimbabwe I was a teacher, proud of my achievements. I was staying in a nice house. In South Africa I lived in a very small shack, and it was a stinking one too because it was right next to the toilet used by all the people staying in the yard.

Worse, I was jobless and worse even than that, my son Thembi could not go to school because we had no residence permit. I was living next to Ukhanyo Primary School but my son could not be enrolled there.

With all these storms in my life and I once even tried to commit suicide. However, a soft voice within me whispered, “Remember your God”.

Relationship problems, joblessness, afflictions and worrying over my children lead to me collapsing one day. I was admitted to False Bay Hospital where they told me I needed counselling. It is true that God can turn sour water into sweet waters: my hospitalisation lead to answers I had prayed for. I opened up to the social workers that the most devastating thing was worry about Thembi’s future. He had no school.

Meanwhile, Dudu had found a job with the Baptist charity organisation that worked in Masi, Living Hope, led by Pastor John Thomas. His wife, Avril, came to visit me and, when I told her what was crippling me, she promised to make a plan. The next day, she brought the best news: she had secured a Grade 3 place for my son at The Rock Academy, a Christian school at the Baptist Church. I was a happy woman once more – although I still had answerless questions about my other three children back in Zimbabwe.

We used to attend church services at The People’s Church at Sun Valley nearby, led by Pastor Dolan. Pastor Dolan played an important role in stabilising our marriage, together with his lovely wife Sarah.Val from the same church played the role of a mother and a councillor. She used to give me some food parcels in times of need. She also gave me emotional support when I had serious marriage problems. One day a congregant named Craig, and his wife Jillian, offered us a lift. They discovered I was looking for a job. Every Sunday after that he fetched us at the bus stop and took us to church and back.

There came a day when I was prepared to give up even going to church, because of the situation I was in. That same day Craig said I should come and help them do cleaning over the weekend. Jillian, a kind lady, fetched me. I did not do much because I was not very well yet. They paid me well for little work done. I could not believe it. Above all, they strengthened me with the word of God.

Deep in my heart I was still crying to God, asking him questions such as, “Why did I spend sleepless nights writing assignments? My children suffered a lot when I was in college, but I still had hope that I would get a diploma and work for them. Why Lord?”

A week later, Jillian asked me to help them again. I had left my handwritten CV at Kleinberg Primary School when I was looking for a place for my son. I remember very well that I was kneeling by the chimney, collecting ashes, and my phone rang. It was the Kleinberg school secretary. I was asked to be at school at 8.am the following day. I told Jillian the news and she declared that the post was mine in Jesus’ name! She prayed with me and then I went home.

The following morning, I went to Kleinberg Primary. I was nervous. I can still recall the secretary’s welcoming smile. Before long I was in the Principal’s office and his smile gave me hope. I saw the face of a father. Instead of interviewing me, they gave me a cup of coffee – I was confused. Then they offered me a School Governing Body post as a Grade 5 teacher.

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Tell us what you think: What does this chapter – and this whole story – illustrate about ‘networking’?