APCJ_1528_Win2010_00i_122_4 12/30/10 3:22 PM Page 110 110 AFRICA PEACE AND CONFLICT JOURNAL Inhabitants of the area are acutely aware of their vulnerability at election time. For example, they know that because the infrastructure is so poor, a politician can appear to be conscientious simply by promising a toilet or a road. Because the residents are in such dire need of resources, they have little option but to accept these often cynical and short-lived gestures of ‘development’. After elections, the MPs withdraw to the plush suburbs of Harare, leaving the local residents to contend with the threat of brigands, thieves, and other troublemakers who hide out in the chaotic muddle of streets and houses and who are fodder for those who wish to employ them to intimidate the local population by orchestrating violence in wards that resist voting for the ‘right’ candidate or party. Big Tree of Life members told us that with only two secondary schools for the whole population and layers of grievance, frustration, and anxiety, people in the community felt disempowered and overwhelmed by thoughts of their severely limited prospects. It became clear that it did not matter whether the Small Tree of Life appeared to arrive empty-handed or otherwise. What mattered was the fact that its members had come. The local residents in the circle had all experienced organized violence or torture and had gone through the Tree of Life workshop process. The act of having made the journey to visit them and sit in that living room was an important part of the ongoing process: everyone in the circle had the time and opportunity to share what had been learned to date and what hopes and expectations the Big Tree of Life had at that stage. The locals spoke of the benefits they felt the Tree of Life process had brought them: ‘Other organizations gave us chibage (maize); it was finished in three weeks! But Tree of Life gave me my dignity back’. In turn, each of them explained that whereas their various experiences of violence had made them ‘want to leave this place’ and had caused them to ‘be harsh with [their] children’, the debriefing and self-understanding that was enabled in the workshop had given them a lasting sense of restored agency: ‘Now I can care for my children’. ‘This is my home, and I want to work [here], for the community!’ They wanted help in organizing more workshops, particularly in a neighbouring ward infamous for violence. (That morning a local newspaper had reported rumours of torture centres being set up in anticipation of elections in 2011.) Theirs would be delicate and dangerous work, but Big Tree of Life members know what is possible. They do not have t-shirts or cooking pots or food supplies or other things that might be equated with day-to-day life with ‘Tree of Life’ stamped on them. What they do have is firsthand knowledge that a person’s experience can be transformed and a continuing, supportive relationship with the individuals and the organization that helped them come to this realisation. Small Tree of Life members did not say ‘This is too difficult’ or ‘This is straightforward. Here’s what you need to do. . . ’. Instead, they made it clear at the beginning of the meeting that ‘they had heard the Big Tree of Life calling’ and that they knew then that they ‘must come to listen to what the Big Tree of Life have to say’. The visitors listened quietly and waited their turn to accept the talking piece. They acknowledged that they knew the community-based members were potentially ‘bringing danger for themselves’ by having this conversation. They also spoke of the complexity of the challenges facing them, and then asked the Big Tree of Life members what they, with their knowledge of the local area and issues, thought needed to be done. The response was that ‘some workshops with the perpetrators’ would be necessary, at which point the Small Tree of Life members explained that while there was