Zimbabwe Protests

Zimbabwe normally doesn't garner a lot of worldwide media coverage, but lately that's changing with some of the largest anti-government protests in Zimbabwe in decades.

Last week, demonstrators marched twice through downtown Harare, resulting in violent clashes between protestors and police, as well as numerous arrests.

I'm not sure how the incidents are being portrayed in the West; however, I can assure everyone that I'm far removed from the unfolding events. I work in the northern suburbs, while the demonstrations have been occurring a few miles away in the capital's central business district.

My embassy, as well as my employer, provide frequent updates on the political situation in Zimbabwe. Over the years, I've gained a bit of wisdom traveling abroad. If the climate deteriorates precipitously, I promise that I will chose a prudent course of action.

Locked Away in Zimbabwe

My passion is traveling the planet attempting to engage in common, everyday life , but now I find myself hidden behind walls, walls topped by razor wire and electrodes.

Walls are erected to keep out perceived evils. So far, I've found none. What I have found each day as I leave my world of isolation and walk to school are smiling children, friendly domestic workers sharing a cheerful mangwanani (Good morning), bicyclists waving to me.

The passersby don't appear to be a threat. They don't seem to want to do me harm.

Yes, crime has risen in recent years in Zimbabwe due to a lack of employment and decades of hopelessness brought on by global structures that oppress many to benefit few. Are the unemployed my enemy? Are they the reason I need to live behind concrete and steel?

My colleagues and I have been placed in multi-bedroom fortresses, which devour natural resources. Walls don't build relationships. Walls are a physical and symbolic impediment telling the community to stay away. A wall says I want to protect my status, to maintain a lifestyle reminiscent of Zimbabwe's colonial past.

Each night I walk back from work – again receiving the well-wishes of pedestrians – step through my gate, and return to my world of isolation, shut away from the very culture I moved here to experience.