Online Reporter
Esther Mabungu
THE year is 2026. An ordinary morning — or so it seems. Life is easier now, or at least it appears to be. Artificial intelligence has become a major part of our daily routines. Why read books when you can simply ask ChatGPT, right? Life feels peaceful, efficient and fast. Online classes now dominate education, and technology has become our biggest role model.
As a time traveller, waking up inside a spaceship felt strangely normal. Then came a call from Space Time World. This time, my mission was clear: to discover how technology could be made more useful in schools.
1999
I walked down a narrow alley, each step feeling stranger than the last. This was a world with far less technology. People lived more freely, less burdened by what others thought of them. There was real physical contact, genuine laughter — not curated “reels” or carefully edited digital moments.
I crossed the final alley, thinking I had seen enough. Then I caught a glimpse of the late Cde Robert Mugabe. Gathering my courage, I asked the question that had brought me there: “How can we expand technology?”
He sighed, almost with disappointment.
“You see, making life easier was never meant to depend solely on technology,” he said. “It has always been about how we help, build, and shape each other. If technology becomes everything, what happens to the people around you?”
His words sank deep.
He continued, “True ubuntu reveals itself most when things are hardest. Strength comes from people — from togetherness. Think about it: during the war, if we had all been on our phones, would we have raised our flag as high as we did?”
It began to make sense. With or without technology, “ease” has always lived within us — in the way we relate to one another.
“Esther,” he said, “never forget that”.
Time was running out.
Suddenly, I was back in the real world. My phone sat in my hand, but everything felt different. What we once thought truly mattered no longer felt as important. Perhaps we had not changed for the better — only for convenience, for appearances, for everyone else.
Then I remembered his most important words: we create change slowly — through togetherness.
That was when it hit me like a brick. He never really left. He was simply watching over us, waiting for us to notice.
*Esther Mabungu is a Grade 7 pupil at Portland Primary School.
