The Princess’s Oath, HRH Princess Eugene Majuru, Princess of Harare
Quietly, in her spirit, the Princess made an oath:
That as long as she has a voice, Mbari will not be forgotten.
That as long as she has a pen, the truth will be written.
That as long as she has breath, the mission will continue.
This oath connects her directly to King Mbari and King Makombe and to the unborn generations yet to come.
Long before the world recognised her achievements, long before headlines chronicled her courage in journalism, sports, or community leadership, the Princess made a vow within the quiet chambers of her own spirit. It was not a vow spoken aloud, for it carried the weight of ancestral expectation and sacred responsibility. It was an oath to history, to her people, and to the future that would one day inherit the legacy of Mbari.
The first part of her oath was simple yet profound: as long as she has a voice, Mbari will not be forgotten. This was not about personal fame or recognition. It was about ensuring that the stories of her ancestors the kings, the queens, the elders continued to resonate in the world. It was about keeping alive the memory of those who had been displaced, scattered, or silenced by colonial powers. Every interview she gave, every article she wrote, every broadcast she participated in became an extension of this promise. Her voice was the vessel through which the Mbari narrative would flow into consciousness, a beacon for those who had long been denied their history.
The second part of her oath addressed her pen: as long as she has a pen, the truth will be written. In this statement lay the power of documentation, the acknowledgment that memory alone is fragile, vulnerable to omission, distortion, and erasure. The Princess understood that history survives only when it is recorded, analysed, and shared. Her writings spanning newspapers, journals, and books are more than literature; they are instruments of reclamation. Each word inscribed is a declaration of presence, a refusal to allow colonial suppression, bureaucratic oversight, or ignorance to obscure Mbari heritage.
The third and final part of her oath embraced her very existence: as long as she has breath, the mission will continue. This was a recognition that restoration is not a task with a clear endpoint. It is a lifelong commitment, one that demands resilience, courage, and unwavering focus. It is the understanding that the work of memory, justice, and cultural continuity is continuous extending beyond her own lifetime, carried forward through the next generation of Mbari descendants who will inherit both responsibility and possibility.
This oath binds the Princess directly to her great-grandfather, King Mbari, whose spirit guides her silently yet insistently. It connects her to the children yet unborn, who will one day walk Harare with knowledge of their heritage, conscious of the responsibilities that come with being part of a lineage that once ruled, built, and protected this land. In her quiet moments of reflection, she feels the weight of centuries and yet the light of purpose. The oath is not a burden; it is a privilege, a continuation of an ancestral assignment that chose her as much as she chose it.
Through this sacred promise, the Princess becomes both custodian and messenger. She is the bridge between past and future, the living conduit through which Mbari history pulses into the present. And while the challenges of erasure, suppression, and scepticism remain, the oath ensures that Mbari will never vanish into silence. It is a declaration of survival, an affirmation of identity, and a promise that the legacy of Zimbabwe’s forgotten kings will one day claim its rightful place.
PS: This piece is taken out of the book CHOSEN, a book written by Princess Eugene Majuru, the book chronicles the history of Harare, linked to Zimbabwean colonial history, book published on 15 September 2025 and available Worldwide on Amazon
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