Vincent Gono, News Editor
THE paper was small and old, almost turning brown and the ink on it was getting faint, almost sinking into the paper whose corners could not be defined. It had a 1980 date.
This was in September 2019 and that month, the news discourse was shaped by the death and burial of the late former late President Cde Mugabe.
Pathisa walked up to me in the Sunday News newsroom a few days after the burial of Cde Mugabe and like always, he would shout my name as he stepped in to check if I am around and to announce to everyone the person who he was looking for.
When he got to the corner where I sat then, he sank into the chair that I had prepared for visitors of his nature. His wizened face was beaming and the creases on his forehead became more pronounced. He pulled out the small paper and leaned on my desk.
In his small but unique laugh, he said, “I have always told you that spirituality exists in the African context. What you call prophets today because of colonisation are ancestral spirits foretelling events.”
The late former President Mugabe
I had stopped all I was doing to attend to him. He had not brought his column in a memory stick like he used to do. He was holding that small paper that he evidently had been keeping like treasure.
“This is a dream that I captured in 1980. Please note that I am not the one who was given the dream. An old man in Kezi came to me after independence when the National Heroes Acre was being constructed and said he was told in a dream that the person leading the construction of the National Shrine was not going to be buried there.
“Now I have been watching and following the events of the passing on of former President Mugabe and the controversy around his burial with a keen interest. Each time I hear the news on the developments with regards his burial, I think of the old man (may his soul rest in peace) and his dream that I documented and kept.
“I was particularly getting doubtful of the dream when I heard about the erection of the mausoleum at the Heroes Acre, then all of a sudden, I heard he had been taken to Zvimba and buried there. I somehow got relieved and realised the power of African spirituality in foretelling even events of national nature,” he said with a voice that exuded how convinced he was with the power of dreams. It was a moment that he had always been waiting to witness and there it was, unfolding in his face and during his lifetime. To him it was gratifying.
For more than half an hour he sat with me and we talked about dreams, about contemporary church with him arguing that there was nothing called an angel but those were a person’s ancestors who would take various forms in order to communicate with their kith and kin on various issues. I would agree with him because he was superior with facts and knowledge and at times because I wanted to end the debate so that I concentrate on work.
His arguments were beneficial and objective and so were his beliefs – they were solid. After all he was a trained Science teacher who was obsessed with research and evidence to prove himself.
My interaction with Pathisa dates back almost two decades ago when I joined Sunday News as an intern. He is one person who saw me grow through the ropes, but I will not burden the reader by narrating how and when it all happened. His trust in me grew with more engagement when I took over from Delta Ndou as Sunday News Magazine editor before it was rebranded to the Sunday Life we now have.
Pathisa would bring me his Cultural Heritage article on a memory stick. He would walk into the newsroom and sometimes we would spend time talking. He loved explaining his discoveries and was a good listener too. Our relationship grew.
He was a perfect writer, the kind who an editor can pass the story to the pages without worrying about negative grammatical feedback.
I would call him to get clarity when I failed to understand what he meant in some of his articles. He loved it, it showed him that I was reading his work. Admittedly, I didn’t see value in some of his research especially the series on Journey to Stonehenge. I doubt a lot of people understood it. I later asked him and he explained that it was a precursor to Journey to Great Zimbabwe and that he wanted analogies to be drawn by those who followed his articles with detailed discipline.
Our relationship grew when I was shifted to the features desk. There I would ask him to contribute articles on Dr Joshua Nkomo and would use him as a source of Ndebele history when writing such articles that required research and a walk back into history. He penned a number of articles on Dr Joshua Nkomo even a book, he was an encyclopaedia in explaining historical features in Bulawayo and was valuable in tracing family histories.
The late VP Joshua Mqabuko Nkomo
It was during that time that he approached me with the idea of putting Sunday News articles under Lest we Forget into a book. I discussed the idea with my then-Editor Limukani Ncube and Assistant Editor Mkhululi Sibanda and we gave him the green light to do so.
In less than a month he brought copies of the book Lest We Forget that had our question and answer sessions with various veterans of the struggle who are still surviving. He acknowledged us in the book. Whether he made money through the book or not we didn’t bother to make a follow-up.
I invited Pathisa when I was going to interview Cde Angeline Masuku, the former Resident Minister of Matabeleland South and Bulawayo provinces. He produced a book in no time after the interview which he asked me to edit.
Then one day as he stepped into the newsroom he shouted from the door as his norm was. “Gono, Gono” to which everyone in the newsroom raised their heads and he belted “I had a dream about you last night.” Everyone in the newsroom trained their ears to hear more as he walked to my work desk in the newsroom.
I deliberately ignored him, for if I had responded he was going to shout the dream to the intended ears. So I wore a business face and he quickly realised his mistake.
That day it was a proper business one. He gave me his memory stick and I copied his article, gave him back his device and waved each other goodbye.
I had dampened his dream excitement and the curiosity of those in the newsroom who wanted to hear what this spiritual man would say about me.
Cde Angeline Masuku
But wait. As he moved out of the newsroom, I was calculating the time and probably counting his steps. I phoned him just when I thought he was out of the building but within the vicinity. I told him to wait for me and he did. I approached him and asked him to tell me about his dream.
He apologised, for having shouted it out but said, “Well it is a very good dream anywhere.”
With every step our relationship grew better. And in March this year, he invited me to his Gwabalanda home. I drove there and found him alone. We talked about everything including personal stuff. We were no longer strangers to each other. We shared a plate of cooked green mealies and amakhomame which he graciously offered.
He expressed his interest in research and writing and confided to me that he was pursuing a target where the number of his publications were supposed to equal his age. He was 72 then and had 71 publications.
His desire was to hang the pen and respond to a long ignored, delayed and denied ancestral calling. He talked about in detail and made me relate with some of the aspects he had covered in his column that was probably the longest surviving newspaper column in Zimbabwe.
After a long time of conversing. He led me to the back of his house and told me to remove my shoes. I obliged and we entered what he had prepared to be his surgery after retirement from writing.
“I am writing my last series and it touches on a very important but often misunderstood issue – the issue of witchcraft as an African science. I am unpacking it. And I will be dealing with it practically in this room. Being a science person, I have been resisting the calling but now I have yielded to it,” he said while we sat facing each other bare-footed on wooden stools in the backroom of his house.
He later invited me to the Holiday Inn where he was booked awaiting to embark on a journey to Chipata in Zambia for a very important trip that was sanctioned by President Mnangagwa.
President Mnangagwa
He expressed excitement over the first citizen’s interest in history and its reconstruction. We talked about anything to everything.
To me, Pathisa Nyathi was not a father, he was a friend, a true cultural advocate and a very spiritual somebody whose life was characterized by his deep commitment to the expression of African spirituality and his dedication to fostering a greater understanding of African cultures.
He was not only a gifted writer but also a cultural historian, poet, and educator whose work delved deeply into the realms of traditional beliefs, practices, and the sacred narratives of the African experience. His spirituality was interwoven with his literary output, enriching his writing with a sense of the divine and the sacred aspects of life that resonated with many.
Pathisa was not only a writer but also a passionate advocate for African spirituality. He believed that understanding and embracing one’s cultural identity was integral to personal and communal well-being. Through his workshops, lectures, and community engagements, he educated countless individuals on the significance of spiritual practices derived from African traditions.
He emphasized the power of ritual, song, and storytelling as vital means of preserving cultural heritage and nurturing the spirit.