The big tree has fallen…

In the middle of the lecture, he would adjust his trousers – always upwards, above the waist. He would then make a few twists and turns on his necktie and then clear his throat. Then, you would know he has something to say, something important. Something that was always a digression, some departure point. “Sakai papa tinogona kunge tiri muno tichifundisana nezvevhu nezvinowanika mariri asi patinobuda panze apo, towana ivhu racho raenda, zvinozobatsirei manje?” He would look disturbed and concerned. He would look at everyone with examining eyes as if inspecting whether the message would have been nailed home. We were used to this and we knew exactly the message he would be hammering home. Just a few years after the Land Reform Programme, nobody would miss the nuances and the insinuations in his messages. That was the beginning of a very long lecture not just about Soil Microbiology and Biotechnology, but about life, the land question, poverty, the liberation struggle and Zimbabwe. He would lose track of time. Urged by our curiosity, he would go on and on until another lecturer shows up. “What time is it now?” “Prof, we are one hour past our lecture!” As the class rep, I would respond. “Oh my goodness, next time please remind me when my time is up!” “No problem Sir”, I would say but almost hundred percent sure that it would not work. Exactly the same thing would happen again on a different day.

 

 

A few days ago, whilst scrolling on Twitter checking news, I was welcomed by a breaking news on ZBC handle. “Professor Sheunesu Mpepereki has died…” My heart skipped a beat and I shivered a bit. Although I had no reason whatsoever to question the authenticity of the news, I just wished it was not true. I checked with a few colleagues and old classmates who confirmed that indeed the old tree had fallen. I didn’t know what to do but just reflect on the times our paths crossed. I was young, permeable and receptive and he was much older and assertive.  We met at the University of Zimbabwe. He was the master, I was the student. Perhaps, a good student to him. We were pre-warned of his no nonsense approach. Having been moulded by Anglicans and Catholics at mission schools, nonsense was not part of me. I had gone through Sister Emildah Manhuwa, Headmaster Norman Dangare, Mr Mwaradzika, among other no nonsense teachers who had prepared me for anything. I was ready for Professor Sheunesu. He walked in with an older folder containing old slides (notes) from old times. They spoke more about his journey than about Microbiology. “I am Mpepereki”. We wanted to say, we already know you Sir. Of course we didn’t. Professor Mpepereki was one of the lecturers teaching us Special Topics. He was teaching Biotechnology. Although we covered all the basics, his emphasis was on Rhizobium Inoculation. The process of introducing the appropriate Rhizobium bacteria to the soil in numbers sufficient to ensure successful nodulation. Professor Mpepereki had done many researches on the subject and had seen the successful implementation of this technology in soya beans farming. He was a pioneer of modern day soya beans farming in Zimbabwe. Whilst lecturing, he would take us down the memory lane, speaking about everything and anything. He later taught us Soil Microbiology and Biochemistry and other extracurricula subjects. Everyone loved him.

However, there are some people who never knew him as a scientist. They knew him as a philosopher, a historian, a politician. His appearances on ZBC TV on programs like Zvavanhu and articles on The Patriot fuelled these assumptions. One day he appeared on TV with his usual team, then he was with Vimbai Chivaura and Chinondidyachii Mararike, who are both late. During introductions, they were proud about their Shona names. I then made a quick comment when Professor Mpepereki introduced himself. “He is my professor”. Nobody believed it. They thought he was an anthropologist. Such was the versatility of the man. He could be anything that he wanted to be.

Beyond the classroom and the lectures, I have memories of how the late professor assisted me on a personal level. I had applied for a Master of Science degree at the University of Cape Town. One day I received an email acknowledging my application and at the same time, informing me that my application was incomplete. They needed at least two reference letters. I had listed Professor Mpepereki as one of the three referees on my CV. I called all the three referees and told them about it. I remember calling Professor Mpepereki after 5pm. He was already home in Glen Lorne. “You know I am already home. And from home I cannot access UZ emails. Let me drive back to campus and work on this now”. I thought maybe he was only going to do it the following day. At exactly 2150 hrs, I received an SMS on my phone. It was from Prof Mpepereki. “I have sent your reference letter to UCT. All the best. I am going home now. Prof SM”. I was really surprised. He did this for me? I responded to him expressing my gratitude. The following morning UCT confirmed receipt of the reference letter. Then throughout my MSc journey, Prof would email enquiring about my health, my research, my plans and many other things. When I travelled home, I visited him at his offices at the University of Zimbabwe. We spent hours just chatting. Our bond kept on getting stronger and stronger that I would make unannounced visits at his office. The secretary would just let me in.

Professor Mpepereki had a favourite saying. He would always say; poverty is a market.  He would then explain that Africa’s poverty is a market to other people. They capitalise on that and make more money whilst Africa will be exploited. He would always recommend his students to read John Perkins’ “Confessions of an Economic Hitman”. We all knew where his political inclinations lied but he never coerced anyone to follow him. If anything, he gave reasons for his beliefs. Besides being a university professor, a researcher and a farmer, Professor Mpepereki was also a Board member for CMED. He also served as the Board Chairperson for the Environmental Management Agency (EMA). On research front, the Professor believed in researches that answer everyday questions. Researches that bring solutions to everyday problems. Whilst defending their researches, dissertations and theses, students knew that, as long as he was available, he would ask questions. His questions were mainly meant to understand the intended beneficiaries of the research. He would raise his hand, and ask; “Saka shamwari, chinhu ichi wagadzirira ani? Chinobatsirei kuvanhu vari kwaMuzarabani uko?” To him research was not research unless it could solve real problems. Rest in peace Professor!