By Mazvi Mazilankatha | As my learned PhD colleagues’ keyboards grow hot with overuse in this race to predicting who will win the Zimbabwe Presidential Elections 2018, perhaps the best indicator for me came from a very unlikely source and the content of the analysis, short, captivating spoke volumes. My friends who are savvy journalists, professors, editors and pastors and priests all pale in comparison to that of an old lady who in a conversation with me, her daughter, did not even know that she was potentially influencing the outcome of the 2018 election.

While my friends are gesticulating and throwing e-punches from across the political floor on Facebook, old ladies like my mother are living and breathing the future results of political outcomes. So how is it that this age group remains the most underserved yet most influential in determining the political trajectory of Zimbabwe and indeed Africa. And I am not talking about the well-known millions of seniors referred to as the rural voters. There is a target group that seems to go undetected and that is the senior population domicile in the cities. Chances are that these senior folks have either never voted or they stopped voting choosing to stay away from the whole confusion and violent ridden exercise. Cultivating them is like finding pure gold.

My call to my mother to wish her Merry Christmas should have lasted some very happy five minutes but the neighbourhood update was essential than discussing the Christmas rice and chicken menu. My mother and her friends had been busy the past week assisting isolated widows and orphans. Sometimes these orphans included homeless teens and college students. My mother and her team cooked for the orphans and cleaned the widows’ homes. Madube and her team are very busy women. I recall that she was once involved in initiating a clean up campaign for North End suburbs. This initiative took hold and other women duplicated it in their neighbourhoods. The success of this selfless volunteerism earned her team attention with local councillors who requested to help and rubberstamp the programs into a campaign for their elections. The good women of North End said no; this was a local women volunteer initiative with no political overtones.

My mom is not a rural voter. Come to think of it, I have never discussed voting with her but now I am curious as to what her leanings are. I also know that her retired friends are headmistresses, teachers, nurses and doctors. These women are the backbone of the cities. They are not struggling to warrant being bribed by seeds for their vote. In fact, they are untouchable. They probably have serious reservations against the ruling party as they witnessed how the icon Joshua Nkomo was treated. Their husbands may have also been involved in the liberation struggle one way or the other and when all was gone and done, the victory went to Harare and they were left clutching the horrific effects of Gukurahundi.

So now as I wish Madube a merry Christmas she thanks me for my thoughtfulness at sending the money so that they could enjoy a wonderful Christmas.

“We almost had no Christmas, Irene.” She says sounding a bit panicked. I ask her why not?”

“Hapana mari munyika!” she says. I am a bit shocked that there is no money in circulation. So, what did you do, I ask her. My mother tells me that she Ecocashed her groceries at the local TM Supermarket.