Category: Inspiration

The Condition Part 2

Continued from … The Condition Part 1

“Hi, you have reached the voicemail of Judith, please leave a message and I will certainly get back to you”

“Ah sorry you said what? Judiiiithhh noooo I I I was meant to talk to my nephew Joseph. <beep> Since I’m here I might as well say “that’s the most sexiest voice universe has ever made. Since you didn’t say ‘Mrs’ I wouldn’t be faulted for leaving my number. 0772934811 please do cal.. <beep><beep>

“Oh I heard the beep in my phone my money, I have run out of airtime but I wouldn’t min….

The phone was off way earlier than anticipated and he was just going on and on by himself. He cursed. He was about to say his name and his mind. Could she have got the message. Would she phone. Was she a Miss or Mrs. It was worth trying. 

“For all those boarding flight UM232 from Vic Falls to Harare, please proceed to Gate 1 we are now boarding”. The instructions came from a cocky voice and the speakers’ dust matched the voice, just as everyone made a beeline to the plane. Whilst aboard she fastened her seatbelt and was ready to doze off when the flight attendant spoke. 

Thank you for choosing to fly Air Zimbabwe 🇿🇼… “choosing from what when it’s the sole airline servicing the route” she murmured and fell asleep way before the plane was airborne. 

As they touched on Harare International Airport she hurriedly collected her bags and led the way. Obviously the landing woke her up. She wasn’t surprised by the landing but rather annoyed at the repeat by the stewards of their well rehearsed statement. 

Thank you mame, we hope you enjoyed the flight and thank you for choosing to fly with us. Hope to see you soon” she frowned. Why do they keep saying thank you for choosing us, as though there is an alternative. After going through the revolving doors she switched on her cellphone and noted she had voicemail. 

She jotted the number down and did a dummy payment on the mobile application so that she gets the name before she cancels the dummy payment. She gathered her esteem and decided to return the call. After all, the unknown caller had praised her and she thought why not give it a try

Hi my name is Judith, how are you Mr Kusena“. She decided to go formal. She giggled all the way from airport to their Gunhill home. The guy wouldn’t stop talking and he dished quotes faster than anyone she has ever known. As she entered the house she promised to keep in touch. The funny part is Mr Prince charmer wasn’t on Watsapp, hmmm strange 🤔. But she thought some people wouldn’t want the app either. 

“Love makes you blink when you should hold a stare and smile when you shouldn’t care” ~ beauty’s daughter

As days go by she would call him in the morning lunch and evening on way home. She asked what he did for a living and he answered simply. “Just like anyone else, I’m a hustler and I’m vending for a living”. She laughed as she reminded him everyone is always vending and hustling. 

They finally settled for a lunch outing. But he chose First Street Chicken inn. He had the courtesy to say he will be waiting outside by the entrance. 

“It’s impossible,” said pride;
“It’s risky,” said experience;
“It’s pointless,” said reason; 
“Give it a try,” whispered the heart….

As she arrived a little before time, she sat in a corner with her back on the street for fear of being identified. She didn’t see anyone who resembled her Prince Charmer. 

She was served a juice and the clock struck 1pm. ‘Will he be on time or the guys never make it on time’. Typical of public places a man being led by a child walked in. From the setup of holding a white stick and the left hand on the child’s shoulder meant he was blind. A begging bowl in hand meant he needed help. 

The blind man went first to the table where Judith was sitting and the kid pulled a chair for his dad to sit. 

No no no sorry the chair is taken and I don’t have any money please try begging somewhere else“. She pointed with her left hand clearly showing the diamond ring on her finger. 

The blind man and child sat patiently and calmly waiting for her to finish. After a while he cleared his throat and said in a begging voice 

“I am the guest you waiting for. My name is Bernard I did our table reservation as per promise and I was waiting outside by the entrance. When you sat at this table my son told me that you are here. I couldn’t see you neither can I see time, as you can by now tell that I’m blind”

                                                

     -oOo-

Life through the disability lens

NB: Based on a false story

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Who do you tell when you love someone

Those eyes that stare at you and you end up changing your opening line. As short as she was, she wasn’t short of superlatives to describe her.

She was the guy’s woman. Every guy would dream of dating her, many even tried their luck but failed. As beautiful as the words might describe her, she never dated, wasn’t dating and showed no sign of dating. Strange but who cared, we were the best of friends, she was my financial advisor. Used to wonder where the acumen sat in that small round head of hers.

Going out was fun, she would giggle and showed that she enjoyed her comfort. We would walk hand in hand to the braii stands and she called me darling, every gal nowadays says that. Nothing strange there. She used to say “I speak my mind. I never mind what I speak“.

She was born accurate, everything was inch perfect 👌. She would ask what you wearing so as to match your clothing. She had the nerve to tell you that you improperly dressed and would drive you back and select clothes for you. She despised us wearing coloured clothes like a crèche durawall.

Born slightly after independence in the 80s her big behind contradicted her small round baby face. The kind of woman who made other women jealousy. She was a true African, a traditional believer who never wore any trousers. Her Shona name was Tione but we christened her T1.

Her intelligence was amazing so was her structure, and eye for quality. We called her our FBI (Finance and Business Intelligence) and rumor was that her intelligence was infact from the Federals.

In one of our Nyanga business trips, the Eastern highlands of the country, where it was now obviously our get away place to refresh, she pointed out that a certain lady who was a neighbor was eyeing me for some time. I didn’t notice neither did I care. I was there to refresh my mind.

As we went to bed, we kissed goodbye (as has become the custom) and went to our different rooms. It amazed quite a lot of people as we seemed a couple, always together, arm in arm but slept different bedrooms. The worst was Victoria Falls, Ilala Lodge. We shared the same bed as it was fully booked, but we were friends so what’s the fuss.

Back on the Nyanga trip, nature’s call gripped me. I slipped into my pyjamas and went to look for what would quench my desire. I knocked firmly on one of the neighboring doors. No details needs to be said on what transpired later on that night.

All I remember was being told 2 months later that you are going to be a father. T1 remained calm to my surprise. But she was often like that and took things seriously and professionally.

Being African I was swift to marry before everyone noticed that there was a bun in the oven. A wedding followed 2 months  later.

There was something weird and something was wrong. The atmosphere was tense. But what could possibly go wrong. On a day like this, “This is the day the Lord has made and I will rejoice in it“, I comforted myself.

The Priest said a mouthful of things from behavior to sex, and I’m thinking “Why should we take advice on sex from the Priest? If he knows anything about it, he shouldn’t!”  He continued his sermon, “Care is to Express, Not to Impress; When Care is expressed truly, people get impressed naturally…, With the powers vested in me I do hereby pronounce you … there was a scream so loud to ignore. Someone yelled “call 911“.

But what would 911 and me have in common, so common to disturb my wedding. Just as I turned to face the Pastor so as to proceed with my wedding someone said it’s T1 who need an ambulance.

I didn’t think. I rushed to the car park only to see her body lying in a pool of blood. She had a pistol in her hand. But where did she get the gun. ‘Maybe she was the real FBI after all’, I thought to myself. She took her life. But why.

It was the note that lay beside her addressed to me that made me numb.

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oOo

*Based on a false story

Story of my life 

Having met Shadreck mid high school, a wealthy businessman’s son, life was rosy. He spoiled me with all that I wanted. I was the only girl in my rural area who could wear designer sporting attire. All thanks to him. As fate would have it,we did it, yes, for fear of losing him to other girls. 

Competition was stiff on him, so I was told. They advised me to give him all so as to contain him. I wasn’t amenable, infact I was iconoclastic. I resisted but later on submitted. Just like the deadly sniper, it was just that one shot and enough to bear a child Brandon. I had to drop from Tenth grade (Form 3) to nurse our son with the promise that once he has finished his Advanced Level we were going to marry. 

Fast forward to today, he doesn’t want anything to do with the child. Let alone me. He tells me in no printable words that I was a whore and how would I open my legs when I was only 16. Where had I seen that before. It’s all my fault now. What about the promise?. He asks me for where he signed this ( mou ) memorandum of understanding as evidence. What a highbrow. 

Things that education can do to people. I just sob in my sincerity. I never thought he would change. Was it because of education or the lights of the big city. Was it because I was not educated like him or because I never wore any trousers, perfumes, mini skirts that resembled more of a belt than a skirt. I wonder. 🤔

Now, in the society, I’m a disdain . In church people nolonger want to sit next to me. I’m the good example for wrong reasons. All verses seem to point to promiscuity. All he preaching tells people to be morally uptight. Even when the Preacher said “if you don’t meet the devil in your life it means you are hearding in the same direction“. Everyone looked at me

                      
In communities, the women shout so loud to each other about their daughters having passed with high flying colors at university. Is it because I never saw the front of a university let alone finish my ordinary level. 

The father of my son has since married and went for a pencil slim girl. She has long hair that almost reach her bums. Long nails and trims her eyebrows. Yet I’m short or chubby much closer to the ground, round face and the so called hard Mashona type of hair. (Kinky hair). They say history is for the victors and some will be remembered whilst others are forgotten, but facts can never be changed.

I have to do part time work to feed my son. Wherever I go they ask for educational certificates which I don’t have. Even as a maid they tell me I might be bad influence to their kids. If I did it how would I stop their children from doing it. Even those that have toddlers they tell me they would rather have someone without a kid. For they fear their food might fast disappear as I feed mine too from their pantry. Maybe they are right for “Sanity is not statistical” and “The consequences of every act are included in the act itself.”

As I sit by the road side with my baby at my back. Too tired to continue with the water bucket that I have to carry on my head from the water well. Maybe too tired because it’s been days since I ate a proper meal. Too tired after long nights trying to join pieces of cloth together to make clothes for my son. Too tired of thinking the if and buts or whys. 


With my palm around my right cheek, my head tilted and being supported by the hand, I see scholars in their uniforms coming from high school. Done with their day’s business. Among them I see pairs or boys and girls arm in arm. Love in the air. Some with their hands on their lovers waist. Obviously the hands for boys being a little lower than the waist. 

Tears rolled down my cheek. 

I was taken back to the real world by a loud scream and a sudden screeching of brakes. Dust rose so rapidly and I was choking. This is when reality struck….

To be continued

                                         – oOo

*Based on a false story 

Societal values

“I’m feeling bored, what are you up to”, she asked him, as she always does.

“Nothing much, just whiling up time feeding the animals”, he responded casually. “Let’s go out”.

To those who have an urban setup going out means a lot, considering the various options available.

In their case it was hearding to the river, sitting on a stone on the river bank and enjoying the crimson sunset.  This was their usual place. A secret spot. Looking down the river and at times peeping to those taking a bath in the river.

But not on this particular day. It started to drizzle, the ‘raining cats and dogs‘ type and the warmth of their bodies could be felt as they cuddled.

The heat arising from the stone as it evaporated in exchange of the coldness descending gave them comfort. In their comfort of happiness, the joys of their hearts , they both fell asleep. Hopefully dreaming of each other as they lay cuddled. It has always been his pleasure, cuddling her from behind.

It was late when they woke up and like all people in love they were inconsiderate of time and saw no need to rush. They began their journey back to the homestead. Short as she was, she always led and with the tall grass surrounding them, they couldn’t see far until they got to a clearing, the clearing being the pole and dagga welcome feature (what the modern now call durawall) of their homes.

They entered the compound arm in arm, swinging, (she had forgotten to remove the trousers and lipstick, a taboo in their village) only to be met by a dozen eyes staring at them, some ready to blow a gasket, some struck dump, some jaw dropped, some in amazement and some in straight forward faces that could have been the best caption for a national ID foto. A no smile, serious business type of face.

A search team had already been called for by the headman. People had gathered up from the village with their dogs, torches and anything that resembled a helping tool in the search of a rescue mission.

A kangaroo court was immediately setup to determine the fate of these two lovebirds. The headman sat on an elevated wooden log, wooden rod in his right hand, a big sun hat even though it was way after dusk. Their sitting arrangements resembled a cow horn formation with all village men on his right and women on his left. The accused sat in the middle and the verdict was unanimous.

~!~

This is how they ended up husband and wife. They didn’t plan for it. The society did.

oOo

She was responding to her grandchildren who had asked how she got married and why she was happy in their marriage as they celebrated their 48th anniversary

Joy is not in the clothes or location…. joy comes from God”

Disclaimer: Fiction. Not based on a true story but a dedication to those in true love.

The Catalyst 

In the African setup when someone has been very ill for long they are transferred to the rural areas. The living will have surrendered you and they prepare for your funeral. 

They are cutting costs as compared to transporting the dead. 

If the City is the place for all medications surely the rate of survival once you are transferred to the rural areas is next to nothing. Majority are pronounced dead on arrival. Those who made decisions to transfer you are said and viewed as the master planners. The internal for seers. The kind of genius who could tell that life is next to it’s end. 

Have you ever chauffeur driven your family to a distance of more than 200km. Majority sleep along the way. What more going to kumusha/ekhaya (rural areas).  

Ask them why they fell asleep 😴 they will tell you it’s tiresome to just sit there and watch trees going the opposite direction. 

It’s tiresome to be made to shake by the bumpy roads as you keep composure. What more someone who is sick. Someone who you are transferring to the rural areas. If the healthy arrive asleep then the sick will definitely “reach dead”. 

Picture this. When your kid is crying you put her on your back. Take a towel and secure her firmly to your back. Then you start doing those dances to no song like a mad man. Dancing to a tune only you can understand. Without the baby 👶 on your back everyone will call you mad 😡 or insane. 

The baby definitely sleeps due to this rhythmic shaking. The lullaby. That patting continuously on its butt. This has become the trend eventually. If you want the baby to sleep. By the same token transferring the ailing has become trend. 

Now unlike the baby ,the jumps and bumps of the gravel road does the patting on the whole body of the sick. More so how many people get transferred to rural   arrears on a bed, comfortable bed in this case. Is it a coincidence that ambulances have beds and belts to secure you. 


Our African setup you are either at the back seat alone or at the back of the truck. Either way you aren’t secured so those dances forced upon you by the truck will make you go to sleep. 

In this case, sleeping forever

                             〰

NB: In the event I get sick and you transfer me to my rural area, if I recover, please run 🏃 for cover 😂

The Apple … continued

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Snippets from part 1

The two let go each other, and stared at the current husband.

I’m still wondering who the wife stood next to or even who she sat next to. I really don’t know what happened next.

What I know for sure is the two gentleman are wondering who got the first call amongst them. A conundrum

 

…. continued … from part 1

They all couldn’t stand the silence so the husband decided to speak first,  but he too doubted the outcome of his thoughts and arguments.

“Excuse me nurse”, he finally said to a passing nurse.

“I have a question, not medically related but something I need your opinion on”,
Would you go back to your ex hubby in the name of reconciliation if he extended a hand to you?

Faces around went white, as white as the nurse’s uniform , scarlet if we may describe it, in other words. The nurse was shocked too. Nurses, in general, are more prepared to answer questions relating to someone’s health or giving directions to lost patients

“No, i wouldn’t. I got lots of pride and wouldn’t stoop so low.  Never ever. Mwana wani iyeye nguva yaakatambisa. No. Nix. Bodo ndaramba.” she declared rather than answered

“Excuse me Sis’er, let me ask what you normally encounter in your day to day livelihood,  if a child gets sick is it right to let the father of the child know?” Asked Shaddy the father of the child, not willing to be outdone as he was fast trading on soft ground

“Yes of course what’s wrong with that because …
“Sorry to inject you nurse but even if the parents are separated is it still the duty of the father know the condition of his child.”

“Of cause the father has the right to his child, regardless of the situation” answered Matilda, as prescribed on the badge slightly above her breast on her ‘once’ white uniform.

She quickly walked away fearing her answers might be used as bait and diving into waters that might be too shallow to swim.

To the 3 seated on the bench, regardless of their sitting arrangements, issue is, The nurse scored for both sides. Scored for both teams. Scored for both opponents.

Question is. Would you go back to your ex? Some say ex is short for example

Question is, does the mother has a right to call the child’s father even midnight regardless that they are now divorced. How will her (the current) husband take it. How will the recipient’s wife take it?

Decision making is a gift and it’s not everyone who is gifted. To those who turned back for reconciliation and things didn’t work out, you too by now know they have no kind words. It suffer continue

To those who heeded the call for reconciliation and things turned out best, they walk with a spring in their step. Right move. Right decision. Life is good. Second thoughts are the best, right?

Let me get back to the trio on the bench and find out how the drama unfolded.

 

The End is near

But … why???

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Women come in all shapes and sizes. There are the pencil slim, who have since found their way into modelling. I still think if it blows a little heavier some might easily be blown away. They are good in modelling though in the real world fuller women take center stage for attraction.

Then there are the abnormal load one. You know the giant popeye after eating spinach look alike. Big at the top and slim as you go down.  We used to call these the improper fraction.

There comes the isosceles triangle. Small at the top and huge at the base. These are plenty and outnumber the slim ones or the improper fraction ones.

Im not sure is 8 is a digit or shape,  but these are the crowd pullers. Whenever they walk,  majority look back. Even women look back and I’m yet to find out why women look back  at other women. Clothes suit them. Better if they are short. Portable size. From shoe size to dress or skirt. It’s all equal proportions.

Even in a mini its a marvel to watch. Music to the eyes. I wish I could put photos here. That would put me in hospital at a faster rate though.  These people, forget the good shape, they got temper. Dynamites  come in small packages and its true of them.

Finally we got those who look like a sterilised milk bottle. Or an orange crush bottle. If 8 is not a shape then we have to agree that round is a shape. They are so round that when they trip over they just roll forward.

With such fine women of our generation that make the human flowers of our day to day life, one will never get enough superlatives to describe them. They are a marvel to watch regardless of shape and size.

Then you hear someone saying he is Gay.

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Honest men marry soon, wise men …

What is the right age to marry. Would you want a scenario whereby you visit your kid at school on consultation day and the students or teachers call your son and say your grandfather is here to see you?

But again that is if you had married in the first place. Majority of guys have resorted to buying an Altezza Audi or BMW rather than marry. I don’t blame them. Choices do differ, so are priorities.  So they say

What does the Bible say

Genesis 2:18
And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper suitable for him.”

So where are my fellow brothers missing it. It’s clearly written. This is the generation that is so clever at defending what’s wrong than whats right. The blame-game-generation. Its never wrong on their life. Someone has to take the bullet for them. (focus is on guys for now. Next article on girls, but the article has to be clearly worded as most girls listen to reply rather than listen to understand)

The bible didn’t just stop there. It went on to say

Proverbs 18:22
He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtain favour from the LORD”.

“Awana mukadzi awana chinhu chakanaka” in my local translation. For the world is so full of beauty and honestly one can’t give an excuse of not finding the perfect one. After all why go for perfect. Perfect what you get.
  
Go yee therefore and marry. Go and find your good thing as it is not good to be alone.

Hold on. It’s not all of us who read the bible. Not everyone is a Christian

Honest men marry soon, Wise men not at all. I rest my case

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Best things in life are for free

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A lovely little girl was holding two apples with both hands.

Her mum came in and softly asked her little daughter with a smile; my sweetie, could you give your mum one of your two apples?

The girl looked up at her mum for some seconds, then she suddenly took a quick bite on one apple, and then quickly on the other.

The mum felt the smile on her face freeze. She tried hard not to reveal her disappointment.

Then the little girl handed one of her bitten apples to her mum,and said: mummy, here you are. This is the sweeter one.

No matter who you are, how experienced you are, and how knowledgeable you think you are, always delay judgement. 

Give others the privilege to explain themselves.   
                           
What you see may not be the reality. Never conclude for others.

Which is why we should never only focus on the surface and judge others without understanding them first.

Those who like to pay the bill, do so not because they are loaded but because they value friendship above money.

Those who take the initiative at work, do so not because they are stupid but because they understand the concept of responsibility.

Those who apologizes first after a fight, do so not because they are wrong but because they value the people around them.

Those who are willing to help you, do so not because they owe you any thing but because they see you as a true friend.

Those who often text you, do so not because they have nothing better to do but because you are in their heart.

Those who take out time to chat with you, does not mean they are jobless or less busy, but they know the importance of keeping in touch.

One day, all of us will get  separated  from each other; we will miss our conversations of everything & nothing; the dreams that we had.

Days will pass by, months, years, until this contact becomes rare… One day our children will see our pictures and ask ‘Who are these people?’ And we will smile with invisible tears  because a heart is touched with a strong word and you will say: ‘IT WAS THEM THAT I HAD THE BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE WITH’.

Accreditation : Watsapp.
Im too lazy to find the origins

The bridge that Petronella built

Today I sleep with a smile, something I haven’t done in years and tomorrow I will walk with a spring in my step. It’s a proud feeling that I have that I wish to share with you.

I have always believed in quiting something I like more, to achieve a goal. 1 january 2015 I quit facebook to begin a journey that’s making me sleep peacefully. I had gained some reputation as the public entertainer and an avid lover of posting photos of wherever I go.

I had also grown fond of the posts by Strive Masiyiwa. He is surely the only person I miss about Facebook. The aim of quiting facebook was to minimise time I spend on social media. I deleted and exited all watsapp groups but for Twitter I had grown an addiction and I was on it another year longer.

Ironically or should i say conicidentally I was also a follower of Tsitsi Masiyiwa wife to Strive. With her passion about disadvanted kids I was inspired.

Then there is this person by the name Petronella Maramba. She inspired me to go into philanthropy. Even though I’m miles away from being called so, but i got the idea from her. The love she has for disadvantaged children is an inspiration to me. I wondered why somebody didn’t do something.  Then I realized, I am somebody.

Even though I have tried to join forces with several groups, they always shut me out. I have tried joining hands to even have people who can do motivational speaking at my former high school but seems majority all like doing it by themselves.

It was upon reading Petronella’s Twitter posts that i decided to sponsor kids for O’level. Today I’m proud to say 1 kid that I’m not related to I was sponsoring sat for 8 subjects and passed them all. He got 6As. Congratulations Eesa Kazembe. I’m proud of you.

Even though I quit twitter 1 Jan 2016 to concentrate more on several other things among them helping the kids cross the great divide, the O’level bridge I only wish more people could join the fraternity and sponsor students from their former high schools.

It’s not suprising that when one needs to host a bachelor’s party people are willing to part with $20 for braii and beers, even if it means depositing the cash into someone’s account they never know, solong there is joy.

It’s not suprising that most people can go for drinks and spend $100 or more. Have we taken a step to look into the fact that at our former high schools there are students failing to pay $50 fees.

Why do we often lead in forming social watsapp groups that chew much of our time instead of forming groups of 5 that each person donates $10 per term ($3.33 per month or 0.11c per day) then you collectively sponsor someone’s fees.

This year I’m sponsoring a girl child and the number under my arm has risen to 4. The life of Jairos Jiri inspired me. “If only” we could have more of the Jairos Jiri people. If only

Why do we have to always wait for the nation to do something for us. Why can’t we do something for the nation. Go the extra mile.  It’s never crowded.

Look at your friends, what do you have in common. Are they the ones who quickly jump when you say guys its friday beer is on me. I have tried and dismally failed convincing and converting my friends to sponsor a child in their respective home arears. What followed was a thorough purging.

Don’t let negative and toxic people rent space in your head. Raise the rent and kick them out!‘ Rather have people around you who are passionate about others than those who are self centred who believe whenever you have cash in excess you need to spend it on them.

I do hereby challenge you dear reader, what are you doing with that excess cash. Take a time to think and reflect, would it kill you to skip buying pizza just once and use that cash to pay someone’s fees. Will you really die if you skip buying your favourite 6 pack of beer 1 weekend and use that cash to sponsor a child’s fees somewhere in the rural areas.

“It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving” – Mother Theresa

“Love only grows by sharing. You can only have more for yourself by giving it away to others”. – Brian Tracy

It takes each of us to make a difference for all of us. — Jackie Mutcheson

To Petronella
“May whatever you believe in keep you going, i don’t have cash to pay thank you but i can only give you the gift of a prayer”.

It’s good to be blessed.  It’s better to be a blessing.