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The following was sent to me last week, and I am forwarding it to you as an
amazing plight of an 18 year old boy. Clive is the same age, and in the same
form as our daughter Kerry. We know him, and his family well. The adopted
daughter is also at school with Kerry, her father was the local Marondera


The following is a poem written by Clive Kay (18), an A-level pupil at
Peterhouse School, rural area outside Harare on Tuesday this week - a day
when he was at his lowest, when the prospects for returning to his home on
the farm, after fourmonths away, seemed impossible, and where it seemed that there was no hope.....

For those of you who don't know Clive's parents, Iain and Kerry Kay, you
should appreciate that they work relentlessly for the people of this country
both in AIDS awareness and other humanitarian good works - Kerry heads
the Commercial Farmers' Union, internationally acclaimed, AIDS awareness
programme.  We have worked together on this programme and it's consequent
Farm Orphan problems for the last decade and Kerry's input has been way
beyond the limits of the average farmer's wife.  Iain has given her his
undivided support as have her three sons - they have two adopted
children - one an adult male and the other the orphaned teenage daughter
of great friends who were killed in an aircrash two years ago.

Sadly for Kerry, Iain and their family their farm borders a politically
diverse communal area - one of the constituencies presently being contested
by the Movement for Democratic Change.    From the moment
the build up to elections commenced in Zimbabwe the Kay farm became one of
the target areas for  thugs/squatters/war veterans, culminating in Iain
being badly beaten up on his farm in March this year and got away with
his life intact by swimming across the farm dam where he was rescued by
his son, David.  Since that time Iain and Kerry have been in hiding because
of death threats - their home has been ransacked and they have generally
 had a nightmare of a life not knowing what to expect next and still waiting
to return home.  Iain is a fluent shona linguist and a very gentle,
quietly spoken and lovable character.
Iain's now deceased father, Jock Kay, was a ZANU PF member of
parliament at Independence in 1980.

Clive's poem gives us an insight into what effects the present situation is having on our future adults.

Jane Souchon,


A certain calmness has returned
Day to day chores are carried out
The mind strays little from work
Every so often a thought or two
Disturbs the tranquility of school
But stays only for a short while.

Seldom is there anything worthwhile
One just drifts through time
Hoping and being ever patient.
Coping is the hardest goal to achieve.
Never offer a glimpse of sadness
As it will only dissolve what little
happiness there is left to enjoy.

Like adrenalin injected straight into the heart
So the feeling of violence erupts
The desperate desire to punish
The ultimate goal is to annihilate
the perpetrators without remorse

If only there was reason
A pure understandable meaning to the chaos
but there isn't
Every man to his own?
UNITY is the way forward
But not everyone wants to stand together.

Solutions emerge for a situation
Then a new situation arises and clouds that solution.
Nothing is ever fixed or amended
Instead it is thrown back into the
revolving pandemonium of recurring problems.

Who is to be trusted?
Who is and who is not?
The good men or the bad
confused are the good because
even they cannot trust each other
Has unity gone forever?

The idle winds are left alone
Intellectuals and profferers of truth
are relentlessly pursued and attacked
The story of life according to God
those who stand up for what is right
will always be persecuted
Even though it is right.

The world is nothing but a revolving
wheel of madness
Why can't the wrong see they are wrong?
Why do the good commit evil when
they know it is wrong?

Perseverance, courage, forgiveness
Their abundance in every person are
only qualities of a perfect being.
I have numerous faults, cracks
in my character.

These cracks are continuously being widened
Driving me to one point
The point of no return
Soon I will commit murder
The murder of myself or my enemies
Some turn to alcohol, some to God
And some disappear into a world of fantasies
Eventually madness.

Why? because the mind cannot cope
It is confused to a point
A place where it has no solutions
You may think the solution is
waiting for things to be done lawfully
When there is no law.

Yes the country must UNITE
To bring peace, stability and law
But individual interpretations are different
The ultimate goal should be LOVE
Love is the only rational act.

How does one unite different religions
Different levels of literacy and intellectuality?
One does it by using love.
How do you love someone who
has disrupted your life, stolen your home
Beaten your loved ones to death
All in the name of land and politics.

The devil has blown through your life
Like a wild fire, consuming what
little good you had ever grown in your heart
Some may say he and the Lord do not exist
If this is so then why do you feel, touch, think,
fight, love, hate, live, die and then live again?

Your home is where your heart is
And my heart is in ZIMBABWE.
When someone threatens my home
they threaten my heart
My existence
I want to exist therefore I will fight.

Focus, don't let it disrupt your work
the less affected say
They don't and can't feel what I am feeling
Keep drumming into my head
Conciously I am alive
Subconciously I am dying.

The time has come to rid this
country of evil, to speak freely
Our thoughts on everything that
concern our lives, our future
To denounce political wrong doing
To repel evil and those who perpetrate it
There will need to be sacrifices
but be not afraid.

I feel alone and isolated from people
from those around me
They do not understand my pain
How do I make them understand?
I am cornered and slipping down the
wall and falling to my knees
I am fighting with myself
And drowning in my own thoughts
And in so doing losing my loved ones.

Being temperamental, impatient and volatile
inhibits communication
Trivial matters become monstrosities
and I turn on those who care
Slowly my courage and strengths
are being consumed and I am
retreating into darkness
Quitters are losers
I guess by giving up I am quitting
If so, I have lost.

Clive Kay.

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