Online Reporter
Mirian Tose Majome-Correspondent
Two days ago, I posted a message on my extended family WhatsApp group.
I told them that when I die, they are welcome to help themselves to my clothes and some small pieces of cutlery just to remember me, but leave the rest of my property for my daughter.
I also requested no one to ask me why I had written that message.
Of course, they asked anyway. Some asked me directly but most indirectly through volunteer family information purveyors (gossipers) that every family has, and very useful they are.
My message triggered a flurry of shocked reactions. Some were even offended. My directness about my own death understandably upset many of my relatives.
However, I have lived a long life and have seen too many things to care too much about upsetting people.
Curiously, I heard through the grapevine that my daughter has no right to inherit my property because mwana wemukuwasha (she is progeny of a son-in-law).
It was said my belongings should be given to my brother or his children just like it was done in 1756.
I was even warned, much to my amusement, that my daughter would bring ngozi (vengeful spirit) upon herself if she dared lay claim to my estate.
We think we are moving together and that we are all in this century, but we are not.
That backlash opened a Pandora’s Box that forced me to confront an uncomfortable but necessary truth about how we, as black Zimbabweans, view property, death and gender dynamics.
Being a woman influences many things.
The persistence of cultural inheritance bias
In traditional Shona culture, property was often passed down patrilineally, with male relatives regarded as the rightful custodians of family wealth.
Even when a woman owned property, the underlying assumption remained that her belongings would revert to the male line upon her death.
The concept is that my property somehow belongs to my brother, and should be deposited with him, as if I am merely keeping it safe for him.
This thinking, though outdated, is all too common. This is evidenced by the conflicts that inevitably arise when a woman dies and worse if she was a married woman.
There is everything beautiful in respecting and deferring to a woman’s family but not when it means depriving children of their mother’s inheritance just because vana vemukuwasha.
This idea is not only culturally regressive but also legally incorrect. The law is clear. Under the Administration of Estates Act and the Wills Act, a surviving spouse and children, regardless of gender, have the primary right to inherit from their deceased parents.
But while the law may be modern, society is not always on the same page.
Our cultural practices are stubborn and prone to abuse by opportunists. The tension between traditional beliefs and the legal system creates a grey area that some unscrupulous family members exploit.
Scourge of property grabbing
We all know the stories.
So rife was it at one time and still is that “Neria”, the feature film on Neria, was a runaway hit because it spoke personally to many people. Many times, a widow is chased out of her home within days of her husband’s funeral.
Even widowers too, if the deceased woman owned the house, and her family are the belligerent type.
The deceased’s property is raided before the burial is even concluded. Children are denied their inheritance by uncles, aunts and cousins who believe they have more legitimate claims.
Even among educated, urban Zimbabweans, property grabbing persists. It is not always violent or dramatic.
Sometimes it is as subtle as quietly moving into the deceased’s house and refusing to leave.
Sometimes it is framing it as “helping” manage the estate until things are sorted, only to never hand anything over.
This behaviour is not just opportunistic; it is unlawful. Sadly, enforcement is weak, and many grieving families are either too intimidated or too uninformed to seek legal redress.
In some cases, even when a valid will exists, by the time it is found, the estate has already been plundered.
Clothing matters too
There is nothing wrong with clothes and cutlery being distributed among the mourning relatives.
It is both practical and cathartic because it lends a dose of closure that notes that it is the end.
However, some clothing items people own and wear are not of trivial value or quantity. People are increasingly investing in high-value designer clothing wardrobes.
Many people have wardrobes that are more valuable than ordinary family cars. It is easy to dismiss clothes as small things, but some wardrobes and closets have clothes that could be sold to help fund the administration of the estate or maintain the surviving children.
But that is rarely ever regarded.
At most of our funerals, designer clothes are strewn about and trampled on the floor and casually handed around to relatives without a care for their designer labels and brand names.
Our casual attitude, and maybe innocence, towards high-value items reflects a broader disregard for economic value and wealth preservation.
Maybe this is why, despite having property and assets, many of us remain generationally poor. We lack structures to preserve and transfer wealth.
We treat death and estate planning as taboo. We do not talk about wills, and trusts when someone brings up the topic, it is met with suspicion and dismissiveness.
Bridging the gap: What needs to change
Fortunately, more people are beginning to understand the importance of having wills and registering estates, but awareness alone is not enough.
We need to draft wills and keep them accessible whether we own property or not. Keeping a copy with a trusted lawyer, and telling a trusted family member where it is vital. A will is a legal shield against vultures.
We also need to educate each other in our families about the law and what it says about inheritance and also follow the prescribed processes. We need to call out and report property grabbers because it is a criminal offence.
It is theft.
We also need to treat all assets with respect from houses to handbags because all assets matter. Some handbags in some wardrobes, if sold, could pay a few children’s entire primary school fees.
We just need to have a sense of discernment and know what is valuable and what is not before throwing everything on the floor in the pile of things to give away.
Above all, it is important to challenge inheritance norms that no longer work in this era and legal framework.
The message I sent to my family was admittedly unorthodox but it served its purpose.
It started a conversation, and I like to provoke them.
It also made me painfully aware of how much work we still have to do in reconciling cultural customs with the law, and in promoting a mindset that values both equity and foresight.
As uncomfortable as it is, we must talk about death and inheritance. And more importantly, we must talk about what happens after it.
Because if we don’t, someone else will talk for us over our graves, with our property in hand.
Miriam Tose Majome is a lawyer and a Commissioner with the Zimbabwe Media Commission. She writes in her personal capacity and can be contacted on [email protected]
