Published on Linkedin on September 10, 2017
Our tribe lived on the right-hand bank of a mighty river. The bank sloped steeply down
to the raging torrent below. My ancestors had lived for many centuries on this right-
hand bank and our history was littered with stories of brave members who had
perished trying to descend from our safe plateau to the river below and then ascend
the far bank to paradise. Fresh grazing, wild fruit and an abundance of mature trees
beckoned from the left-hand bank.
One day a strange, new tribe appeared from nowhere on the lush bank across the
ravine.
Within days they had erected a contraption from the high trees on their bank. The
contraption then shot an object trailing a strong rope over the steep ravine and onto
our bank. They shouted for us to secure the rope to trees on our side of the ravine.
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We were amazed as members of their tribe started clambering across the ravine using
their hands and feet to creep, hanging upside down, along the rope. The rope swung
from side to side and our people screamed in fear of the strangers tumbling to their
death in the torrent below. But somehow, to everyone’s relief, our new neighbours all
made it across and were soon greeting and shaking hands with our tribe.
Pretty soon the strangers had erected a platform in one of our highest trees and had
secured the end of the rope to the trunk. Then they asked for a volunteer from our
tribe to crawl along the rope to the far side. Tsolo, our bravest and strongest member
naturally volunteered and soon he was waving and shouting from his new pregnant
surroundings on the far bank. Everyone was anxious to join him. But the strangers
demanded a forfeit from each of those wishing to cross. Some gave treasures from
their ancestors, others gave clothing that they had made and yet others promised to
be labourers on the far bank.
Not all our tribe were able to make it to the far side. Some grew weak in the crossing
and plummeted into the ravine. Others could not produce the required forfeit and yet
others were happy to see out their declining years on the impoverished right-hand
bank.
The members of our tribe that succeeded in the crossing lived out their days
prosperously on the bounteous left bank. But, sadly most of our tribe were still on the
right-bank and seemed destined to live out their days in poverty there.
Then one day I witnessed a miracle.
Men dressed in hard hats and blue overalls arrived on our side of the ravine. They had
strange machines that made loud noises and blew smoke out of huts built on top of
them. Within three full moons they had placed long hard pipes across the ravine and
shortly afterwards carts, people, animals and the remains of our decimated tribe were
able to walk over the bridge, as they called it, to the fertile left bank which had
remained out of reach for so long.
I got up the courage to talk to one of the hard hats as I crossed the bridge. I asked
innocently ‘How did you do this’.
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Sitting in my new, lush surroundings, I attempted to understand his answer. He had
said: ‘Primary Education, Secondary Education, Tertiary Education, Foreign Direct
Investment, Private Sector Confidence and Good Governance.’
I hope that before I go to meet the ancestors, I learn the meaning of the hard hat’s
words.
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