How a Zimbabwe got its name

Until the 14th of January 2012 I had not set foot outside the borders of Zimbabwe, nor had I let alone boarded a plane. Zimbabwe is and will always be my home. Located a few kilometres outside the town of Masvingo lies the Great Zimbabwe ruins, from which my country got its name. During the Bantu migration from Central Africa, the Shona ended up on this hill were they built a magnificent structure. Through historical times this site was home to trade from the time the Portuguese ventured in Zimbabwe with spices and cloth, it has been documented that some of the other artefacts found at this site include beads and porcelain from Persia and China.

My forefathers come from a place called Nyajena, close to Great Zimbabwe. Growing up, school holidays involved going to the rural home to see my grandfather and grandmother, along with some aunts and uncles. This trip began from Harare to Masvingo, through Morgenster and along the road to Renco Mine. On route to Morgenster we would reach a sign post clearly stating Great Zimbabwe 13km, we never proceeded toward Great Zimbabwe for so many of those trips as our required route required us to make a right turn before we got there.

Around my 10th Birthday our luck did change. Whilst coming from the traditional homestead we did manage to make good time, the parents then agreed we could make a stopover at Great Zimbawe. Beating hearts would be an understatement, we imagined everything and questioned noone – this was the trip of all trips. On arrival we were astounded by the scale of a this historical monument. This was larger than the toy houses we built from broken bricks, we did not have Lego blocks growing up, we played make believe with what ever we could phantom. It immediately caught my heart in that instance. So this was the place that had given the name of our country and what we always heard people speak of. This part of the province is a lot greener than our family home, they were trees, countless bends of granite rock, stacked one on top of the other. At this time thoughts were, would it be possible to make my own buildings like this – well I am not an architect and never thought I could be one. Such an accidental trip gave me my travel treasure that I cherish so dearly everyday.

The return trip to Harare involved us asking one another how these very old people had built such a place. It took History lessons in High School to answer some of the questions that came up that day.