From Bulawayo to Britain: Why reclaiming our story matters now more than ever

I was born in Bulawayo, a city rich in history, identity and memory.

Often referred to as the City of Kings, Bulawayo carries within it a legacy of leadership, migration, resistance and resilience. It is a place where history is not distant or abstract, but deeply woven into everyday life — in language, in culture, and in the stories passed from one generation to the next.

Growing up within this context shapes how one understands the world.

It shapes how one sees history and perhaps more importantly, it shapes how one recognises its gaps.

Living in the United Kingdom has provided me with opportunities to engage with history in new ways — through museums, cultural events, and public discourse. These spaces are often well-resourced, thoughtfully curated, and committed to preserving national memory.

They offer valuable insights into how societies remember and interpret their past.

But they also highlight something important.

That history is not universal in how it is told.

It is influenced by perspective, power and proximity to the narrative.

For many African stories, particularly those shaped by colonial encounters, this has meant that they are often told from outside, rather than within.

They are interpreted rather than experienced, summarised rather than fully expressed.

This is not always intentional. It is often a reflection of historical structures that have shaped the voices, which are amplified and those that are not.

But the effect is significant because the way a story is told influences how it is understood and how it is understood influences identity.

For Zimbabwe, and for many African nations, history is not simply something to be remembered. It is something that continues to shape present realities — socially, economically and culturally.

The legacy of colonialism, for example, extends beyond political independence. It has influenced economic systems, institutional structures, and even perceptions of value and success.

Policies such as the Economic Structural Adjustment Programme (Esap) are part of this broader historical continuum — moments that reflect how global systems interact with local realities, often with long-lasting consequences.

To engage with history, therefore, is not to dwell on the past; it is to understand the present more clearly and to make more informed decisions about the future.

This is where reclaiming narrative becomes important.

A people, who do not tell their own stories risk being defined by others.

They risk having their complexities reduced, their experiences simplified and their voices diluted.

Reclaiming a narrative is not about rejecting external perspectives; it is about balancing them, ensuring that local voices, lived experiences, and cultural contexts are part of the conversation.

For those of us in the diaspora, this responsibility takes on an added dimension.

We exist between worlds.

We engage with global narratives while carrying local histories.

We have access to platforms, networks, and spaces that can amplify voices that may not always be heard.

This position is both an opportunity and a responsibility.

It calls for thoughtful engagement, intentional storytelling and a commitment to authenticity.

Platforms such as cultural groups, writing, and community initiatives provide avenues through which these stories can be explored and shared. They create spaces where identity can be expressed not as something static, but as something dynamic and evolving.

Through initiatives such as Izinkanyezana, I am beginning to reflect more deeply on what it means to not just be a participant in history, but a custodian of it.

To carry it with awareness, to question it with curiosity and to share it with integrity because stories are not just about the past.

They shape how we see ourselves, influence how we see each other and guide how we move forward.

In a rapidly changing world, where cultures intersect and narratives compete, the need for grounded, authentic storytelling has never been greater.

It is not enough to inherit history; we must engage with it, interrogate it, understand it and where necessary, expand it because in doing so, we do more than preserve memory – we create direction.

From Bulawayo to Britain, the journey is not just geographical.

It is intellectual, cultural, deeply personal and within that journey lies an opportunity — to contribute to a more complete, more balanced, and more truthful understanding of who we are.

Not just for ourselves but for generations to come.

Alphina Ndlovu is a cultural commentator and PhD researcher with a focus on African business ecosystems, identity and narrative.