manulite delite

It's been 3 years since I last updated this blog, and with what has been going on in Zimbabwe, that much silence might mean the dude's no more. But no, I'm alive, I've survived the worst Zimbabwe ever, and I'm still here with the scars to prove it. The last time I was here, bread was like what? $100,000.00? And I thought that was bad! After a while it got to a point where complaining about life in Zimbabwe stopped making sense. I watched forex dealers moving into flats and houses, and pushing cars I could not afford with my 17 years of education topped by a bunch of professional qualifications. I watched illegal diamond dealers spending US dollars like they were being printed at Fidelity Printers (where our dear Governor used to print our beloved Zim Dollars). At some point I had like 10 Quintillion dollars in each of my various bank accounts, for it was now necessary to have an account with every bank, and whatever did I get with all that dough? Those were the days

I consider Simon as my friend. We sort of hang out together each time we bump into each other in town. He's much shorter than me, which of course is explained by the fact that he's much much younger than me. We both live in Zimbabwe so that gives us a lot in common. But Simon practically survives on the streets. Though he doesn't necessarily sleep on the street at night, his life is a life lived on the pavements of Harare's central business district. The last time I met him, which is now a while ago, he wanted some money to buy a school trousers. Simon and I go back together a number of years. He was not yet of school going age when we met. Now he's grade 3 or 4. So hows life for Simon like? Each time I think about it, I cannot even start to image how it must be for him. He once narrated (still with all the childhood innocence) to me how he got arrested during the days of the clean-up operation. He told me how he had to sneak out and run when he got a chance. That

Several times when someone discovers I'm from Zimbabwe, I immediately get questions like, “So, how are you surviving?”, “So, how's Zimbabwe these days?”. How's Zimbabwe? If you are hopeful, your answer to that question, ranges between, “Not so good.” and “Don't ask.”. The price of bread is up again from about $60,000 to at least $88,000, which is not news anymore. I remember a time long ago when bread was 75c, our parents were already not too happy about that price. I remember the discussions in the streets, people reminiscing on the old days, telling us how so cheap bread was back then. Then bread went up to 99c, I remember the boycotts, the complaints people saying we can't get only 1c as change from a dollar after buying bread. I remember it going up again to $1,50. Those were the days I learnt about strikes, demonstrations and all that people do to let it known that they are not happy about the way things are. Where's this country going, people would ask. Th

There are times when you think you are having a very, very bad day. Then there are times when bad days are in season. Of course bad days can be a result of a number of various causes. For example schools are closing in a few days time. That's an obvious bad day coming your way right there, because it means in a month's time you need school fees. So though Easter is somewhere in-between schools' closing and opening, it simply does not exist. The best use for the Easter holiday is to go kumusha and basically terrorise the rural folks so that they give you a bucket full of maize, some manhanga and nyimo and a bit of peanuts. (Umm..., peanuts as in peanuts, not the peanuts you get at the end of every month.) That in itself is a cause of serious bad days for them rural folks. You see, we, or rather they had plenty rains this season. The weatherman sort of hinted that to be an effect of the cyclone activity off the coast of Mozambique. Which in itself is a candidate caus

Yesterday I caught a cold and today I woke up with a cramp; it isn't very comfortable sleeping at a friend's couch with one blanket in this cold winter. Of course you might already be asking why I'm sleeping on a couch, well, the thing is, this is not my house and it is crowded as it is. So maybe again you ask why I'm not sleeping in my own house? Good Question! See my cottage was demolished by Operation Murambatsvina (Operation 'we don't want dirt')on Thursday last week, so I had to move in with a friend since I had nowhere else to go. At least I didn't have to do the urban-to-rural migration that most peeps who have been hit by the tsunami (which is what we now call the Operation Murambatsvina these days) . Not that its a major benefit that I'm still living in the 'bright lights'. Only the day before yesterday we had no electricity at night, I don't know whether this is one of those rationing cut-offs or someone at the power company fo

Last Year I wrote a "thank you" message (its there somewhere on the internet!) to all the people who had been in my life the last 20 something years, its so unbelievable that a year has already past. This time I'm turning a year older and a lot of things have changed. I've met new wonderful people, my relationships with some of my close buddies has sort of faded, and more sadly there is one person I will never be able to get as close to as I would have wanted. Now, that is a way of putting it lightly, the other way would be to explain how heartbroken I am. She asked me "not to write" and I listened. So basically where that leaves me is somewhere between confusion and hope. Hope that I'm still quite young and have a lot to look forward to ahead of me. Hope that one of these days, I will wake up one morning to a smiling brand new day where my life will be changed forever. I have shifted from the position where I was asking "Where do you find the righ