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Celebrating My Father- Fanwell James Gotora 9 June 1936- 4 May 2005




Every  4th of May and Father's day  I celebrate a life well lived as I pay tribute to my hero, my superman and the man who I called Father. Fanwell James Gotora was born on the 9th of June in 1936 to “Mhasvi James Kachedzi Gotora and Susan Muswewembudzi Zowa in the Village of Nyariri Gotora in a pole –dagga hut” as I accurately quote from one of his journals. He was the oldest child in a family of 5 boys and 1 girl who named me Lillian after herself when I was born. Dad also wrote in his journal that he did have another sister who only lived for 8 months.
Although my dad was a very bright student he only went as far as Standard 6 which is the equivalent of ZJC or form 2 and immediately attended Chibero Agricultural College because he had to send his 5 other siblings to school. Dad would later excel as farm assistant (that’s what they called them in colonial Rhodesia to a Farm Manager in the Zimbabwe Era. He was sought after and head hunted by commercial farmers because of his hard work and expertise. Dad was so passionate about farming he even consulted for free!!! 



Another great passion my dad had was politics. He collected books on different political subjects, macro-economics and personal biographies of world leaders and enjoyed political debates with me and other likeminded people. Dad was generally knowledgeable on many subjects and even though he was not so well educated he attracted highly educated friends, His best friend was Barclays Bank First Street branch Manager and they really got on well and clicked on all levels. I believe my love for reading was inherited from him and even the writing part because he wrote about the accounts of his life in many journals which I was reading over and over again today.



Although dad spend his working week in shorts and getting around the farm on a motor bike , Dad was a flamboyant man who loved to dress up in designer suits, remember how my mum and my young brother struggled to choose the suit that we were going to bury him in because the man had a great collection!!!Dad also enjoyed dining at nice places with his family, and even though it was new to him he quickly learned the importance and attended important sports and games and school activities that my brother and I took part in. 



A quality that my dad will always be remembered for is my dad’s generosity, because he had had to drop out of school, dad was very sympathetic to other people being denied the opportunity to go to school so he sent some of his brothers’ children, cousins’ children to school and assisted many people. He sponsored burials and bought groceries at many funerals and always stood by his family and extended family actually in his eyes there was no such thing as extended family, family was just family to him. My dad also celebrated people and their successes, He would panic when it was my birthday because he always celebrated me and was an extravagant giver. On my 21st he couldn’t find a key so he bought me a designer silver watch instead. When his nephew the late former Vice President Joseph Msika first became a senior cabinet minister Dad was over the moon and mobilized people to contribute but he footed most of the bill and had a cow slaughtered for a party to celebrate Joseph Msika’s success at the village. Even though none of my dad’s children had a white wedding in his lifetime and only 1 graduated with a degree my dad never stopped celebrating other people’s children who excelled in that area, he even organized parties for many of then. I remember when I was teenager I took him to task about certain people he had helped and who had never bothered to thank him or acknowledged him and his gentle reply was that not up to them to thank me or repay me that’s up to God.



Another quality about my dad that I will always remember is he LOVED without reservation. He had many tetes (paternal aunts) and he loved their children- all his nephews and nieces from the Mandikis, Zambes,Dakas, Msikas, Mudarikis, Midzis, and many more and they equally loved him back. In our culture an uncle from the maternal side is equated to one’s mothers and so these nephews and nieces, most who were older than my charming dad doted on their Sekuru Fanwell and submitted to him.  If he summoned them to the farm they would drive from Harare or wherever they were to come and hear what he needed even if he wanted to send them on an errand.

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