THIS year, Zimbabwe’s 45th Independence Day celebrations coincide
with the Easter holiday, a rare alignment that adds a reflective layer to
a moment already steeped in meaning. But while the spiritual resonance
of Easter is noted, it must not overshadow the profound national significance
of April 18. Independence Day is not simply a date on the calendar;
it is a sacred national moment to honour the blood, courage, and sacrifice
of the sons and daughters of this soil who gave everything to secure our
sovereignty.
Both Easter and Independence are commemorations of immense
cost, a life laid down, blood shed, futures altered forever so that others
might live free. For Christians, Easter is a celebration of the crucifixion
and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who gave his life so that mankind could
be redeemed from sin. For Zimbabweans, April 18 is a solemn and proud
reminder of the blood of our sons and daughters who perished to free this
land from the yoke of colonial oppression. These two narratives, sacred
and political, converge to remind us that freedom is never free.
Often we discuss liberation in terms of ideology, economics and sovereignty,
all of which are vital. But this year, let us be drawn to the more
human dimension: What it means to inherit a legacy of sacrifice. How we
honour it. And what we do with the freedom handed down to us by those
who never lived to see it.
This Easter-Independence convergence gives us a unique opportunity
for national introspection. It calls on every Zimbabwean, young and old,
rural and urban, political or apolitical, to ask a simple question: How do I
celebrate the freedoms bought with blood?
In practical terms, some will attend church services and raise their
hands in gratitude for both spiritual and national salvation. Others will
travel back home to be with family, to rest and reflect. Many will simply
enjoy the public holiday, perhaps unaware of the historical and spiritual
weight the weekend carries. But at a deeper level, we are all invited to
participate in a collective act of remembrance and responsibility.
The men and women who fought and died for Zimbabwe’s freedom
did so with no certainty of survival or reward. They faced guns, exile, imprisonment,
and death because they believed in something greater than
themselves: the dream of a free, self-determined African people.
This 45th anniversary should stir every Zimbabwean to look beyond the
festivities and slogans, to instead ask: What are we doing with the freedom
that was handed down to us? Have we lived lives worthy of the price
that was paid?
For far too long, the sacrifice of our liberation heroes has been treated
as a historical footnote, only revived in speeches and commemorations.
Yet the promise of independence was not just the removal of colonial rulers.
It was the restoration of dignity, the equitable ownership of land and
resources, and the right for every Zimbabwean to participate meaningfully
in the destiny of their country. That is the promise we must account for
today.
Yes, Easter may remind some of a spiritual sacrifice, but our national
attention must also be focused on the liberation war, the crucible from
which our modern nation was born. It is the story of thousands who went
to war not to enrich themselves, but to free a people. They died for justice,
for dignity and for ownership of our own story.
This year, as the national flag is raised across Gokwe and beyond, let it
be a symbol not only of past glory, but of present responsibility. The best
way to honour the fallen is not only in song and ceremony, but in honest
reflection and recommitment to building a nation of integrity, equity, and
unity.
So how will I celebrate this Independence? I will remember. I will honour.
And I will recommit, as a Zimbabwean, an African, and a descendant
of sacrifice — to be worthy of the blood that watered this land.
Because the truest way to celebrate independence is to ensure its promise
is fulfilled, not just remembered.
