As a product of this Shona soil, I embrace our diverse cultural legacy with great honour. We are BaShona-aka Shona(or Chishona),and we are quite uniform throughout Zimbabwe. However, there are some local dialects such a Karanga, Zezuru, Manyika, Ndau, and Korekore which are still understandable for each other.

The native system is the organ from which we naturally draw. They bridge-up our local customs, traditions and beliefs. As long as they exist, our cultures are alive. In conjunction with the village old men, the spirit mediums (svikiro) and the diviner-doctors (nganga), the community members are able to resolve conflicts and keep the society in order.
Ceremonies would be such cultures’ rituals as well as autochthonous customs could be reckoned to them.
 
Among inside policies, the dynamics of those effected by external variables are considered, while they change together with the environment. This is because they are easily adopted by our culturally and linguistically diverse population along with our local religious, social, and economic systems. These tech systems get public acceptance because of their universal use and ease of use. With the influence of global factors, including globalization and conservatism, the endogenous approach simultaneously becomes more powerful.

Dawn breaks by thundering knocks on the doors by my mother from the room next door. Thit instantly wakes me up like an alarm as she makes her way to my room to repeat the same loud knocks on my door. A wave of nostalgia fills me taking me back to my mornings back in high school. She pleadingly shouts for everyone to wake up for the briefing that needs to take place in the lounge. This is a stark reminder that I am home. It’s Easter Sunday. As we assemble in the lounge, our duties are assigned to each one of us. My 4 sisters are tasked with the indoor chores. These include: cleaning the bathrooms, lounge, dinning room and most importantly, the heart of the home, the beloved kitchen. My older brother, father and I are tasked with the outdoor chores consisting of: cleaning and raking the yard to my father’s pristine taste as well as setting up the braai area which is our sacred place for indulgence and banter. As we separate to perform our tasks you can hear mutters in the background which are usually complaints and disagreements as a result of the duties that were delegated. At the end of our sweat inducing outdoor chores, my brother and I go to the shops stealing two of the sisters who are immediately relieved from their duties to go with us since my father does not usually join us to the shops. For a family that usually engages in last minute activities we try to be early enough to rush to the shops before they close to buy all the necessities needed for the day. This is the usual morning for my high-spirited family of 8 which consists of my parents, older brother, four sisters and myself.

The beautiful aroma of jasmine rice and the exhilarating music from the lounge welcomes us after we arrive from our shopping errands. The exuberant sight of my mother dancing in the lounge with the most infectious smile invites us in as we carry the groceries to the kitchen. My four sisters are now in the kitchen preparing the different courses that make up Easter Sunday dinner. The kitchen is swamped now. My father is all dressed up, the cologne that he wears fills the room with his presence as my brother and I lead him to the braai area. There my father and brother test my fire-making skills since I was the last to acquire the skills ̶ there’s a 14-year difference between my brother and I. In a swift, smoke is up in the air, and I’m saluted with pride by both of them. My brother loves to handle the meat, so he assigns himself with the braaiing duty and banter is shared between the three of us. At this stage my father acts as a passive facilitator sitting on his chair and enlightening us on the politics of the country because he is well informed and versed in politics. He and my brother can relate since they both know a lot about politics, something I’m not really fascinated by due to all the chaos that comes with this topic. The mouth-watering smell of smoked meat in the atmosphere steers the conversation into the good old days my father lived and some of the mischievous stories he had. There at the braai area we embrace our masculinity filled with wise advise from both my father and brother. Back in the kitchen the atmosphere is filled with excitement, laughter and joy. Their beautiful voices sing along to the background music in symphony and enticing stories are shared while they attend to their designated meals they are preparing. After some time, my brother and I head to the kitchen with the meat that has been braaied. Because of this, the pressure to finish the meal preparations increases- and so do the tensions. Arguing and scrambling hastily takes over the once melodious kitchen. The chaos at this stage usually indicates that the Easter Sunday lunch will soon be commencing.

The time everyone has been anticipating for has come, all of us are seated at the food bedecked table, the volume that was piercing through the speakers is reduced and it is time to devour. My mother does the honour of serving us all. Plates are clanking and tummies are rumbling, it is time to break our fast. But first my father starts the feast with a prayer. At this point we all exchange conversations with one another. There’s a very beautiful feeling of extreme joy in everyone’s look on the face, indeed we are truly happy to all join and be as one.

As we all become exhausted, the home slowly returns to it’s normal rhythm, but the echoes of the dinner linger. There is a sense of accomplishment, appreciation for the shared time, and anticipation for when the family will reunite around the table once more. Each of us will take the warmth, humour, and love of the family supper until we meet again. As the evening comes to a close, the reluctance to return to our respective rooms is evident, demonstrating the power of reinforced relationships. Plates may be emptied, but the warmth, laughter, and sense of unity remain, imprinted on each participant’s mind