By Bigboy Madzivanzira
Farewell to Sekuru Lawrence Masaiti
Born 10 February 1947 – Passed 31 May 2026
Sekuru,
You took me in after high school when I came from the rural areas to Chitungwiza, and you didn’t just give me shelter — you gave me a trade, a path, and a father’s guidance. Through you I passed my Class 3 Electrical Installation course, and for three years I worked beside you — even on the Mangondoza Hotel contract in Nyanga — learning not just wires and stoves, but how to work with integrity.
LP Electrical Company was more than a workshop. It was a school. So many companies today were started by young men who came through your hands. You taught us all, and you held nothing back.
You were a family unifier. When I got married, you stood beside me as my go-between. I’ll never forget what you said: _“Muzukuru, my presence at your marriage ceremony will cement it. Your in-laws will be assured you’re coming from people who value humanity.”_ That was you — showing up, carrying dignity, reminding us who we are.
When I got my teaching post at Marirangwe, you and your lovely wife sent me off with a start-off pack and a life-long lecture. Even when I was sent back to Chitungwiza to Zengeza 4 Primary, you were happier that I was home. And though I had my own room at Zengeza 5, I spent every weekend still assisting you, because being with you was where I learned most.
You kept reminding me: “The sky was the limit.” And because of you, I believed it. After two years teaching and heading the Health Club, I was offered training in Medical Rehabilitation. That leap was yours as much as mine.
And then came the day you fell and broke the neck of your femur. When the suggestion for an operation came, you sent me your x-ray and said, “Come home and attend to me.” So I did. I used everything you had pushed me to learn — traction, mobilization, walking frame, crutches — until you were moving independently again. You spent your life lifting others up, Sekuru. In the end, I had the honor of lifting you.
You built people. You built me. You taught me trade, you taught me character, and you taught me to value humanity. Your presence cemented things — in my marriage, in my work, in my life, and in your own recovery.
We will carry your lessons forward. The sky is still the limit, because you showed us how to reach it.
Rest well, Sekuru. Thank you.