2019 has started on bad note for my homie Lazzie. Not because of the proverbial January disease characterized by his wild spending during the festive season but life in general.
Whoever invented beer deserves to be ranked among the greatest men or women on earth.
This is the thought in many people who enjoy the wise waters.
My nephew Lazzie’s wife however believes the person who invented beer should be sued as he or she nearly killed breakfast for her children.
Lazzie left home in the morning, 9am, telling his wife that he was going to buy bread and other things for breakfast.
He was in shorts and sandals and left his cellphone as he was just going to a nearby shopping centre and in 30 minutes he was supposed to be back.
Before he got into a supermarket he heard a hooting sound and looked back. He saw his homies from work having drinks early that morning.
He indicated that he was buying breakfast for his family and as he was about to leave they offered him one beverage.
He initially declined but they persuaded him to have one and he agreed. One became two and the rest is history.
At home, his wife as always had a plan B and sorted breakfast for the kids. She could not call him as he had left the phone at home.
Lazzie returned home at around 7pm with a bottle of whisky in his hand. He tried to give an explanation of what had happened but the wife could not take any of it.
As punishment she ordered him to go and bring the breakfast he had said he was going to buy.
In that drunken stupor he forced his way out and managed to get to the supermarket and unfortunately bread had ran out.
As he was on his way back home, he came across his friends from his pool club who drove him to another braii area for further drinking.
He had to be dropped at home around midnight.
His wife refused to open the door for him and made him sleep on the veranda.
Over excitement is one thing we should strive not to do. In most cases, it leads people astray and end up doing some crazy things.
When my granny deep down in rural Gutu used to say, I took it as a joke till I witnessed an incident in one of my rounds in the ghetto.
There were four friends who had become popular for their blue coloured sports car known for a loud booster and their big spending on the booze.
They were also known for high speed which risked children in our potholed stricken dusty roads.
They had become a common feature every Saturday.
One sunny day, they went and parked at open space where a an apostolic church was gathered with one of the senior members preaching.
The people there were dressed in white robes known by many as garments.
The four were visibly drunk, playing music on high volume and started hurling insults at the church gathering while urinating towards them.
They accused them of taking advantage and marrying of young girls. They also accused them of faking miracles.
This was in the eyes of people passing by. The general sentiment was that there is nothing wrong in holding such opinions but very inappropriate to shout at people minding their own business.
A young boy was sent from the church to instruct the gang to leave the area as they were now shouting obscenities which made the congregants uncomfortable.
As the boy was approaching, one of the guys ran towards him and poured beer on him. He rushed back to the church crying.
This was all in the sight of church leaders.
A group of young men from the church stood in attempt to go and challenge the crew but they were stopped.
The preaching elder took picked his rod and just pointed at the guys who all burst into laughter while getting into their vehicle.
As they drove off, we just heard a loud noise and the sports car was under a haulage truck being dragged in the tarmac.
All the loud music turned into cries.
It was hot and they were very few people nearby serve for those who where at the church.
The church leader called on his people to rush and assist the people who initially resisted considering the insults they had received.
Some people called for the ambulance services but to avail and the church elder again called on his congregants to use their vehicles to drive them to hospital.
Whether it was an accident or a curse from the Most High is a story for another day but the people they were irritating became their rescuers.
BEING a man is one thing that is underrated.
While women believe it is difficult being them, with the hair and make up stories, weight check, age or whatever, I don’t think they have taken time to consider how it is being a man.
Imagine, if you’re a man and not good looking, that’s it.
No room for pimping, you can’t wear make up or have that wig or weave like what women do. Women have that option but us men, never.
There are several other things that men stress about unlike women.
This is one thing my nephew Lazzie used to joke about during the good old days.
He told me how, after being rejected by a certain lady because of his stunted growth hit hair went on to buy some hair relaxer to perm his hair.
Some 15 years ago there was a popular hair cream by the name easy something and he decided to try it after a a small talk with his pal.
Little did he know that applying to much of the relaxing cream will result in burns of the scalp.
On Saturday he was at our place with a hat on his head. It was rare seeing him with a hat, in fact he never wore a hat because of his seemingly large head.
It was surprising for everyone seeing him in a hat, with trash talking he used to do to people wearing hats.
I could not help but take off the hat and boom the hair looking soft and silky, curly which was a shocker. There were boils kinda looking scars on his head.
And we were all like ‘sekuru vakapema musoro’
He was kind of ashamed but being the person he was, he laughed it off and narrated the whole issue to us.
He said it was better putting on a hat than being pointed at with people associating an ailment at him as was back then.
As for the girl, he said no woman is worth all that trouble and decided to look elsewhere.
It is always good to spoil your partner, getting them gifts or even surprising them with a simple lunch.
It’s always good to be surprised, getting something from your loved one.
Remember, it is not only the responsibility of men to do so, even ladies can do so for their partners.
My lady friends and I have come to understanding that this should be done. We learn from each other on several issues.
However, they have come to me asking why their men seem not to like the presents they get for them especially clothes.
They say it is hurtful to buy someone something and only wears it once or never sees them wearing it.
My response was straight forward. Don’t buy something you like, buy something he likes.
I have noticed that women the mistake of getting their men the things they like and not what the men like.
This is seen from the simple things as colours. The fact that you as a lady like bright colours doesn’t mean he is into them too.
It is simple, ask him his favourite colours and get something along those lines and he will appreciate.
Getting him the colours he doesn’t like means he will not wear the damn shirt or t-shirt you would have bought for him.
The other thing is to study your partner. Look into his wardrobe and you will get the idea of what he likes wearing.
What he does in life also determines the choice of his dressing. Getting a sportsperson a suit is in itself a wrong choice because e will probably wear it once in a year or never and it will be painful to you.
So the bottom line is know your partner. Getting them something they like means they will wear it almost on a daily basis but something they don’t means he will wear it only when you’re there, to please you.
There are several other factors but for today, I end here.
A RUMOUR can be dangerous especially when it does not carry a grain of truth.
Growing up in the ghetto, I know exactly what happens when something is said about you. It will have far reaching consequences.
A marriage was once left hanging after a woman bought goods from a shop that was rumoured to have men who only give preference to women in return for sex.
I remember this other year, things got pretty bad with nothing in supermarkets, it was a crisis.
Everything was now found on the black market at inflated prices beyond the reach of many.
The few that could be found in shops was on the whom do you know basis.
My uncle ran a chain of retail outlets and because of his connections with some big people, his shops would have the goods but at an adjusted price better than the parallel market.
This resulted in queues on almost a daily basis.
My uncle only employed men at shops because he believed men work harder than women.
Rumours started circulating that goods were there at B n B shops but only sold to women in return for sex.
Several men became suspicious of the shops because of the rumours and women on the other hand ended up ended up concealing when they got goods from one of the shops, especially where I was based.
Not what I saw but just like anybody else, I have heard about such happenings especially in a time of crisis.
Then it so happened that there was one Tall Joe, which i’m told was a a nickname from his height. He was a known martial artist who had a number of victories in as far as street fights are concerned.
His wife went home with two loaves of bread and a bottle of cooking from our shop. She was happy that she was taking the goods home but what awaited her was shocking.
She was put through an intense interview, asked to undress as Tall Joe inspected her privates to make sure that there was no penetration.
From what I heard, there was a huge issue over the things, with the rumour that they could only be obtained after giving up the forbidden fruit.
He came to the shop beating everyone from the security up to the till overs. Some of us were left scurrying for cover.
As he was moving to the storeroom where we had taken cover, one of the guys who was a cleaner came from the back where he had gone to dispose garbage.
He was Tall Joe’s brother in-law, (brother to his wife). He was happy to see him and said ‘tsano’ you wife was here an hour ago. Has she sent you with to collect her mealie meal?
That is when Tall Joe stopped the violence. He had no idea that his brother in-law was working at the shop.
That is how we were rescued.
My late nephew Lazzie was a great story teller.
You all know what it is with great story tellers, they LIE and they are good at it. The kind of person who lied and end up believing the lie.
He was once ‘detained’ by his side chick for a week and told his wife that he was at our place.
Little did we know that he was staying in our neighbourhood with the lady and he would visit us each morning for breakfast and later in the evening for super.
He told us that their refrigeration company was doing maintenance work at the nearby shopping centre.
We all thought he was heading home after the meals little did we know that he was staying at another woman’s house.
Him coming for meals at our place was a calculated move that if his wife calls my mum would tell her that Paul was here for tea and has just left for work.
It was actually believable and his wife would joke with my mum saying please take care of ‘our’ husband as per our African culture.
As he was not going back home, he was also not going to work.
His company had a policy that if someone does not report for duty for five continuous day, it was an automatic dismissal unless proven otherwise.
He went to work after the five days and lied that there was an emergency as his uncle had been taken ill and unfortunately died.
His known uncle was my father and his boss knew my dad as they once worked together at another company. God knows how he obtained medical records in my father’s name to prove his case.
Having heard the ‘sad’ news, the boss was left with no option but to pardon him.
Later in the evening, he came to our place for the usual super and while we were enjoying the meal, there was a knock on the door.
My mum answered the door and there stood his boss, with tears down his cheeks much to my mum’s surprise.
She asked what had happened, leading him to where we were seated.
His face when he saw my father having his meal was enough to tell the whole story. Lazzie just dropped the water glass he was holding and we needed no explanation on what had happened. He had lied to him!
We were not sure what he had lied about.
All we know is that the following week he was at a new company.
WHEN women fight it is the hair and clothes that suffer.
Growing up in the ghetto (Glen View) and in times of economic hardships, queues will be the order of the day.
With the scorching sun, tempers will be on the edge and you don’t need to poke someone for no reason. Just like acid, the level of anger people will be having is enough to dissolve an iron rod.
The words people utter will leave you questioning if we really are a prayerful nation.
This other day a queue just formed outside a supermarket.
No one actually knew what was in the supermarket that people were queuing for.
It has just became a norm that people will just queue just hoping basic goods will be made available.
It was a long and winding queue and people were just joining even though they didn’t know what was inside.
All they could do was just join and ask the person in front, munei? (What’s in there?)
As we were queuing two fine looking ladies appeared from nowhere screaming and shouting at each other.
They were not in the queue and we wondered what was happening. Suddenly they were at each other’s throat.
We didn’t know the reason for the fight and all we could do was speculate.
And being in the ghetto when women fight, it is because of a man. Theories quickly arose with people saying one of the ladies had been cheating with the other’s husband.
Just a hunch and no evidence.
People could not intervene to stop them from fighting for the fear of losing their spots in the queue as someone just shouted that there was mealie-meal in the shop.
Mealie meal being the staple food had become a rare commodity and for someone to lose their spot in the queue for two women fighting over a man was unthinkable.
So people were like let them fight, they have the energy to waste.
Again the mealie meal claim was just someone’s creation as the shop’s manager came out with a loud speaker announcing that there was only salt in the shop.
This was however not enough to make people disappear as people remained in the queue.
As we were all concentrating on the shop manager, two vendors intervened to stop the fighting ladies.
Hairpieces were left hanging in the head of one of the ladies. Looking at the other lady became difficult for some of us ‘young’ children as breasts were left exposed, with panties left hanging by the thread.
Up to now we don’t know why they were fighting and all we remained with was speculation as the women went separate directions being covered by sacks used by vendors to cover their baskets.
The clothes and the hair suffered and wherever they went they needed to do a makeover.
On a normal day, the fight would have attracted a huge crowd and could have been stopped within minutes. But it came on a bad day.
All I know is their fight was not enough for us to leave the queue.
Without evidence I will do an article on why the women were fighting.
Waking up in the morning
Peter and Anne dated for five years before they decided to stay together as husband and wife.