#ThisFlag

Town is a scary place, if you are a white female and have no idea what you are doing.

I found myself there, an alien in a foreign land. On a sort of adventure really, pacing down cramped streets in search of the perfect fabric for my latest project..

People make town out to be this terrible place, full of thieves and angry people, but that’s not what I saw, I found it to hold its own unique beauty, a raw, African, humanness.

The history of the place captured me, there was something comforting about the old photo booth by the car parkade, its rustic appearance, allowed me to imagine a better time. I found myself imagining how many people had used it, back when the city was new. I did not see the sadness in its broken, neglected manner. In fact I recall smiling at the idea of people, in another age smiling for a photo, those frozen memories of better days, intrigued me.

The whole city was cramped, street after street filled with people, all so unique. Chaos, would describe it best, hundreds of people, all moving, all going somewhere. Walking on roads, because the pavements where far too small, constantly dodging cars and worn down buses.

I fell in love with the vibrant colours. The street that seemed to be dedicated entirely to a mass of roughed up yellow buses, startled me. The swirling array of shopping signs, big bold, red and blue signs advertising shops that no longer existed, as if to deliberately confuse outsiders, the small stalls overflowing with random objects, from belts to sunglasses, hats to phone covers.

My heart ached for the brokenness, it wasn’t the heat, it wasn’t even the instance stink of humans mixed with food and various other poignant smells. It was the neglect, the lack of care, a city once grand and glorious, reduced to a rubbish dump, caked in a thick layer of dirt, thick like hate. And yet in the middle stood the new clean expensive buildings…. The immense divide between the rich and the less fortunate stuck out like a golden coin in clear water. I saw the poverty, hidden in the heart, that had been so well disguised in our suburbs. It was dominate here, I realised why the thieves stole, why the people complained. I saw riot police, corrupt endangering the lives of many people to take out a single tire of a fully packed bus.

But I saw the perseverance, I saw a will to survive these people had. I saw people queuing at the bank, waiting there all day to acquire such a small amount of money. And my heart broke. I saw love, in the way a family lead their young ones through the busy streets hand in hand. I saw smiles; I saw a love, an unwavering sense of respect for their own.

I found myself falling more in love with this country, and its people. Hope, that is what filled my entire being on that trip. A hope that these people will someday find peace in this place, hope that things will look up, that poverty will fade and the city will return to its glory. Hope that a simple photo booth will be restored, and the people will smile again.

A year later I returned. A totally different atmosphere, Army tanks roamed the streets, more crowded than ever. However it was not fear that filed the air, it was hope. Photos of people fist bumping with Army guys, rich smiles on their faces showed a change, a shift in power, the people united by a love for their country.

Harare, Zimbabwe 21st November, its dusk, and the sound of cheering fills the whole city. Bright colours fly, matching the electric energy loading the country with hope. Black, Red, Yellow and Green, a piece of material is lifted high. Then another and another until the Flag is everywhere. People wear it like a cape, covered by the hope of it. The feeling is tangible, displayed in smiles and waves, from people you would never have known if such a situation had never occurred.

The current political situation in Zimbabwe lead me to design a range that was inspired by unity. People of all ages and ethnic background took to the streets to peacefully protest against our now ex- president. From last year until now I have seen the country united with a common prayer “we want a new Zimbabwe.” this is a movement that has left many shocked by the kind and peaceful nature of Zimbabweans. A place where whites were often separated due to the checked past concerning farms and racism against the locals, now suddenly appears to be more united than ever. Pastor Evan Mawirie spearheaded the campaign, reminding us that what we seek is not violence, but to once again feel pride in our country and carry its flag together.

These are the events that have inspired my final A'level piece. I wanted to make something that shows how the state of the country brought the people together.