Author name: Phineas Sixpence

Clutching her battered suitcase in her hand, she got off the bus and trudged down the dust road. Her eyes were filled with tears and all you could see was a poor soul begging for a little love and affection. She trotted down the dust road with a heavy heart, weary face and blur eyes […]

(Background and context) 1995– first ever encounter with depression,I got extremely sick kidney infection,general body weakness,my mouth stunk because I couldn’t even get out of bed to brush my teeth and when I did I opened my mouth and stalagtite and stalagmite.I could barely get down the stairs without having to ‘sit this one out’/sit

The stranger I met on that fateful day wasn’t so much strange as he was a mystery. He was someone I should know as well as I know anything in this universe but I soon realized I didn’t know the stranger as well as I thought. When someone is tangled in the blanket of sleep,

I walked out of my cabin to be greeted by the blistering heat of the dessert, my forehead alreadycovered in a layer of perspiration from the morning activities. I lazily removed my camouflage coatas my boots swiftly moved towards the tent. The boisterous chatter of men reached my ears as Ipushed the curtain open to

“The land is crying for its people. The people are crying for the land. Do not be silent. Speak up for her.” – Australian Aboriginal You know those winter evenings on the highveld? Where red sunsets blacken the trees in shadow and dust hangs in the branches. Then suddenly it is night. Zimbabwe night. Just

Today something quite serendipitous happened to me. And it reinforced what I’ve been feeling during this time in Zim and all we are going through at the moment. What I haven’t felt is despondent or pessimistic, and I often question this – thinking maybe I should join in more with the complaining or possibly be

My late husband had written a novel about Zimbabwe and Ireland, unusually for him as he generally wrote academic books. We needed some advice on publishing, editing etc. and one day he said “Perhaps we’ll meet a stranger on a train who might help us”. Naturally I was very dubious. A while later we were

“Who goes there. Copa Cabana town, do you want my sister? A short man with an eagle- like nose, appears a few meters ahead of me, shouting out to me with his husky voice. Being in no rush, I reduce my pace just so the kombi (commuter omnibus) by the bus stop can go on

On any particular day, when l decide to use a certain street in the bustling city centre of Harare, l always come across a baby in a red crate a little way away from her blind mother who begs on this particular street. It is a heart breaking sight but what has always struck me