TANAKA

There are no words big enough to hold a love like ours, and yet words are all I have to honour you.

Tanaka was not just my husband. He was the person my life quietly organised itself around, the one who made everything feel steadier, warmer, and more meaningful simply by being there. Loving him felt secure, grounding, and deeply real — like building a home with someone brick by brick and then realising one day that it has become your shelter.

Our journey began in long distance, and from the very beginning I saw how intentional he was about pursuing me. Distance did not make him hesitant or uncertain. Instead, it seemed to sharpen his focus. He pursued me patiently, consistently, and with a quiet confidence that came from faith as much as feeling. He simply stayed, choosing me again and again until I could no longer imagine a life that did not include him.

Living with him meant living with joy embedded into everyday life. He would sometimes break into dance in the middle of the kitchen or the living room, completely unselfconscious, moving as if the moment itself was enough reason to celebrate. Sometimes he would pull me into it, laughing, refusing to let me stay serious for too long. Those spontaneous bursts of joy are some of the things I will miss most.

He loved taking care of me in practical ways too — the small everyday acts that often go unnoticed until they are no longer there. He insisted on driving me even when I could have managed on my own. After trips, he would handle the heavy bags without being asked. He kept my playlists fresh, sorted out my tech when something stopped working.

What we built was not only made of big moments. It was built in routines, shared responsibilities, whispered conversations late at night, plans for the future, prayers, laughter, and the comfort of knowing someone was fully on your side. Our marriage was a quiet partnership as much as it was a deep love story.

Tanaka's life left a mark not because he tried to be extraordinary, but because he was sincere, present, and deeply committed to the people he cared about. He showed up. He stayed. He loved without holding back.

You will always be the person who made the world feel like home. Rest peacefully, my love. Until we meet again.

Never would I have imagined that I would one day be writing about my baby boy in the past tense. If love alone could bring you back, my son, you would be standing here with us today. I would give anything — absolutely anything — for one more dance with you, one more laugh that fills the room, one more long chat after your travels, and most of all, one more tight bear hug from you.

People have thanked me for raising you so well, for teaching you to be the young man you became. But the truth is, Tanaka, you were my first experience as a mother. I was learning with you. In many ways, you were the one teaching me. You taught me patience. You taught me unconditional love. You taught me strength. You shaped me into the mother I am today.

Thank you, my Mini Chirandu. Thank you for the beautiful noise that filled our home — the music, the laughter, the random dances that turned ordinary days into celebrations. That room will never sound the same again. The dances will now live in my memories. The whispers we shared will linger gently in my thoughts. But oh, what a gift it was to experience them at all.

My son, thank you for choosing me to be your mother. Thank you for trusting me with your life, your heart, and your journey. You are the greatest gift I have ever received. I will hold onto every memory, every smile, every moment and treasure them as precious jewels in my heart, my Tee.

The emptiness you leave behind is heavy, but my love for you is even stronger. That love did not end here. It did not stop with your last breath. I will love you for all eternity, my son. Until we meet again, my precious child, rest gently in God's arms.

When God was choosing my sibling, I truly believe He chose you with intention — and made you just right for me. Being your little sister was one of the greatest blessings of my life, Tanaka. I wore that title with pride and joy.

Thank you for always going ahead of me — for leading the way, for protecting me, and for teaching me through both your triumphs and your trials. Thank you for every lesson you shared, every joke you cracked, and every moment you shielded me without me even realizing it. Thank you for setting the bar so high. Thank you simply for being you.

You were the heartbeat of our home — the energy, the laughter, the joy. You could walk into any room and instantly make it brighter. Whether it was a joke, a playful tease, or one of your unforgettable dance moves, you always found a way to lift our spirits. Your laughter wrapped around us like warmth, and even now, in the stillness, I can hear it in my heart.

You will forever be my Big Brother. I will carry your smile, your wisdom, your advice, and every treasured memory of you through every season of my life. I will always love you, Tee. Until we meet again.

Tanaka's life was never dull; he was "go big or go home" in human form. The number seven muzukuru on the Mutasa side, son of the third daughter of Sekuru James Mutasa and Rozaria Mutasa, he carried his place in the family with pride, presence, and unmistakable class.

Tanaka was intentional about joy. He chose love. He chose people. He chose to show up. When he walked into a room, he filled every empty space with warmth, vibrance, laughter, and celebration. Even if it wasn't a party, he made it one — and when it was, he made it unforgettable. He lived fiercely, laughed loudly, loved without reservation, and accomplished more in a decade than most do in a lifetime. The goals he set, he accomplished — "CHANDAGWINYIRA."

He wasn't just a son, a brother, an uncle, and husband — he was the definition of love. He brought us together, and there was never a dull moment when he was around. He was our reminder to live louder, love harder, and never take the small moments for granted. A constant uncle to our children, present for every important event, building core memories and lighting candles in our darkest days.

He taught us that life is for living without fear; that we are created in God's image and can do all things through Him; that we must love deeply, dance everywhere, smile brightly, laugh loudly, and hug tightly because the world needs it.

We will miss your hugs, your jokes, your surprise visits, your fearless showing up, and your wisdom. Your departure is not goodbye but see you later. Your light has not gone out; it burns even more fiercely now in our hearts. We love you so much. Rest easy. Ulale ngoxolo mntasekhaya. See you in the morning, Chirandu. Until we meet again.

Tanaka came into our lives with so much love and promise. The love he showed Kundai was undeniably sincere, truly from the bottom of his heart. That same deep love is what he extended to us — his new family. From the very beginning, he embraced us fully and wholeheartedly.

The way he courted Kundai was something out of a beautiful story. The engagement with the Mercedes Benz and helicopter, the traditional Roora ceremony, the wedding that felt like a dream, and Kundai's unforgettable 30th birthday celebration — all these moments could easily have been featured in a celebrity magazine. Tanaka did all this not out of an abundance of resources, but out of the abundance of his deep love for our daughter.

He loved his family deeply. He was devoted to his mother, Elizabeth Manjengwa, and his sister, Kupakwashe. He carried a dream in his heart — to fulfill his late father's vision of livestock farming and to revive the family butchery business. That dream spoke of his sense of responsibility and legacy.

Above all, Tanaka loved God. While in South Africa, he attended Rivers Church, where he found mentors who walked alongside him in his spiritual journey until the very end. His faith was an anchor in his life.

Though our hearts are heavy, we remain grateful for the gift of his life, for the love he gave so freely, and for the memories that will forever live with us. Rest well Tanaka — you fought the good fight!

I never imagined a day like this would come — a day where I would be called upon to pen a tribute to you. And yet, even as I write these words, I struggle to accept the idea of your absence. To me, you are not gone. The mark you left upon my life and upon so many others ensures that you will never truly be.

Over the past few weeks, many have described you as the personification of love, and how fitting that is. Even your radio persona, Mr Soul Touch, was not merely a name. It was a reflection of how you moved through the world. You did not simply speak to people — you touched their souls.

You possessed a rare and remarkable gift — the ability to carry people on your heart. You showed up not because it was convenient, not because it was expected, but because that was your nature. You were intentional about people, intentional about love, intentional about loyalty. You did not merely talk about friendship. You embodied it.

You connected worlds, my brother. Old friends and new. In your presence, divisions dissolved. You made people feel seen. You made them feel welcomed. You made them feel loved. You lived from the inside out. Your character was never artificial or performative. It was authentic. It was vibrant.

Your life now stands as a challenge to all of us. It calls us to love more deeply, to show up more faithfully, to live more intentionally, and to carry people on our hearts the way you carried us on yours. That life is not measured merely in years, but in impact. And your impact, my brother, is undeniable. Rest well Tanaka.