My one-way conversation with Desie: Sister V

Viola Zimunya
Fort McMurray, AB, Canada. OCT, 7 – I remember clearly when we first met – at a media function on the outskirts of town.

I introduced myself and you said you knew me! We both laughed and we did a lot of that during that encounter.

It did not take long to recognize your sharp mind and solid outlook on life and work. By the end of the day, we had agreed to figure out how we could work together one day. And eventually we did, and God, am I thankful for the opportunity to watch you “grow” and refine your game with so much panache!

I was definitely privileged to be around you during that particular chapter of your life. You never looked back, in your outlook, professional growth and responsibility. All the time with such a polished demeanor! Thank you for that opportunity! You actually became family.

“Whether it was after a trip to the regions or other, or whether it was Budget day, Desie would be assured that if he walked into my office to ask for a page in the paper, he would get it.” – Viola Zimunya

There was no question that you would do due justice to it. On Budget day you would round up your team and come over to announce what story you would write and who else would do what. I would be a highly-interested spectator as the budget page came to life right under my nose.

What a pleasure, and oh the satisfaction, to be at the helm of such a great team! And do you remember the day we lost power at work? Then we all migrated and set up the newsroom in my living room? We did our work and did not miss the printer’s deadline notwithstanding …

Even Mr Sherlock was impressed by such team work – sadza, fish and muriwo aside. True to form, when we were done, you walked into the kitchen and made sure there was something left for the fledgling infant Musa.

And when I left, all you wanted from me was a cap. I owed you that from a previous trip, so this time I had to take off one from my head to yours: We were even!

Even after I was thousands of miles away, we did stay in touch and we would share memories about home, work and school. I would tease you over our “favourite topic,” and I would secretly revel in the humour, friendship and respect in a true mother-son fashion.

You continued to grow and learn, and share.

I could go on and on, but have to ask you now: why? Why now, when you had the whole world ahead of you? Why Desie?

My struggle over the past couple of days, consists of trying to rationalize why you had to leave the way you did?

My conclusion is that you are a unique young man. Everything about you is unique and we will never know why, except that you were one of a kind …
You are special Desie, and you will never be forgotten.
Rest in peace gentle mwana. – Your Madame! (the way you pronounced it)