By Margaret Kamba 

There is a poster, "Our National Heroes and Heroines," that hangs in many offices. It outlines some of Zimbabwe's heroes and heroines, their names, probably one of their best picture, their birth and death year, and particularly that some are reburied. That poster fits very well in this narrative of reburials. 

The purpose of bringing all of Zimbabwe's heroes and heroines can not rest until they all lie in the places they have chosen to lie. It may not seem relevant to some who believe and feel that where these men and women should lie, be it in shrines at Chimoio or somewhere else. 

 Believe it or not there are men and women or boys and girls who are in ditches, pits, under trees, in galleys, where they took their last breath after being bombed or shot dead. They cry out to their families to come carry them home so that they lie down where their families are.

When you read the Bible in the Old Testament, Moses made his son Joseph swear that once dead, he would carry his remains to where his kindred lay. 

I am quite sure this is not the only story in the Bible about reburials and how they cause problems if not followed to the letter.

I know and have heard countless Comrades talk about how they swore to each other that they would come back for each other. 

I guess this is why His Excellency President Emmerson Mnangagwa is very determined to ensure this issue is expedited as he is bound by that oath.

Why am I so concerned about this matter so much, because seemingly every now and then, there is something on reburials, you ask me?

It's because I keep asking myself what if they chose not to go to war like those who never heeded to Mbuya Nehanda's call to journey into the world of the unknown and bring Zimbabwe's independence?

I ask myself, what if Cde Mostafa Mudara aka Cde Marshall Carter decided to do his electrical engineering course and not leave for war, would he not be lecturing at the University of Zimbabwe today?

What if no one bothered to take up arms and fight for this sovereignty we enjoy today?

What if the boys and girls in those days decided to enjoy their academics, being tea boys, being farm labourers and never took the courage to remove Ian Smith's regime?

You hear many of them talk about that time as though there was a spirit that enveloped the country so that they could go and fight for Zimbabwe. If you think deeply about this statement, you do realize that it had to take a spirit to sit on each one of them to sacrifice their lives for Zimbabwe, but what if?

My what ifs will never seem to end because when I meet veterans of the liberation struggle, their stories make me realise that being in the trenches was not an easy walk in the park. 

My what ifs will never end because they are not scared to open their shirts to show me the bullet scars that serve as reminders of a bitter protracted war.

My what ifs will never end because I meet their daughters, sons, brothers, sisters and wives as they come to seek declarations for their beloved in order to get benefits from the fruits of that labour, was it not?

How will my what ifs end when I see tormented faces of families who miss their loved ones? 

How can these questions end when there still seems to be no reburials funding mechanism when the country these men and women fought for sits on numerous minerals attracting the world's fortune 500?

What if each Province given the records of the Three check ups, sets aside localised budgets to rebury Zimbabwe's heroes and heroines? 

This surely is achievable. This surely can be done so that we put an end to the what ifs.