Authors: Brian Chikwava
'How is Zimbabwe?'
'OK.'
'How is your family back there?'
'OK.'
'What's Zimbabwe like?'
'OK.'
'How is Mugabe?'
'OK.'
'Are you all right?'
'OK.'
'Do you know what Zimbabwe means?'
Zimbabwe mean house of stone, but me I just shrug my shoulders
and say I don't know what it mean because he is hassling me
for no reason. Now he start telling me what Zimbabwe mean
because he look it up on Internet last week. Me I play dunderhead
who don't know nothing. 'It means house of stone,' he say.
I don't want to stay at the fish bar one second longer because
me I am tired of watching this man sitting there behind counter
and babysitting his machine. Tsitsi is maybe in danger at home,
you never know.
I go back to graft and Tim spend whole day trying to break me
and make me talk because he want to crack jokes. But because
we did not grow up herding cattle together, me I refuse for anyone
to break me.
He have pin number for opening that machine, the machine
that is turning him into pervert. I have never see grown-up man
that have such funny relationship with his machine.
I finish them my duties and have to help Ricardo with unpacking
them chips and fish.
Tim have fail to break me. Now he stop teasing me. But you
still need crowbar to move him away from his machine.
My shift finish early today. I have just finish packing delivery
of them fish into freezer and me I'm walking out of shop like
usual when I stick my paw inside my trousers and Tim throw his
head up from newspaper on the counter and ask me what I am
hiding inside them trousers. Fish bar don't sell no screwdriver if
you think I have thief from here. I nearly lick him with the truth
but I keep quiet and wait for the truth to come out on its own.
Truth is like termite. You just let it come out in the open and
soon it is crawling all over the anthill for everyone to see.
'Me I am not thief; I was only turning my tool around because
he keep rolling this way and that way, lying on his back instead
of lie proper on his stomach.'
I don't even have to rush back home today; Tsitsi is going to be
late coming home because MaiMusindo have ask she to help. So
I don't have to worry who might be touch touching she inside
the house. On my way from graft I buy blinding vodka from some
Polish rough sleepers on Electric Avenue on account of it is very
cold and Aleck don't allow us to switch Farayi's electric heater on
because it waste electricity. Vodka is good against the cold. Vodka
is good against propaganda.
Aleck is home early when I get to our house. Even if sometimes
he give Shingi hard time, I don't mind if he also drink my
vodka tonight because I don't want no bad air inside our house.
'Come, we can have drink and be cheerful when we is still alive.
Tomorrow we all dead, you know,' I say standing in kitchen
doorway and shake vodka bottle to him. He is sitting at kitchen
table with his head down eating takeaway food. His mouth is full
and he is looking like he is blowing trumpet. I stand by door and
wait for him to swallow and lick his lips, but before he have even
swallow, he smile, give me the thumbs up and get his head down
to the plate again. I know the kind of thing that he was trying
to make me feel but he just don't know how to do it right, Aleck.
Comrade Mhiripiri know how to do it sweet. He do it to me in
first week of learning political orientation and history of the liberation
struggle at the Green Bomber camp. I ask if we is going to
learn about Mao's Likkle Red Book and he laugh with other
commanders and pat me on the head saying we will learn Likkle
Red Book when enemy of the state have been scattered and it's
time for poems. Look at history, he always say if you push him,
the path of many of us is set by few fat bellies with sharp horns
and hard hoofs; they gore and trample you the moment they know
you see through they cloud of lies. And you think you can fight
them with poems? That's his style, Comrade Mhiripiri.
I get into our room and try to whip up cheerful mood in Shingi
and Farayi and soon we is having shots. I am not expecting Aleck
to come and join us in our room but it don't take long for him
to walk in like big man as usual. He want to join in the fun now
because we is talking about them Zimbabwean women in Harare
North and bawling with big laughter.
'They is getting funny those Zimbabwean girls, especially in Luton;
all of them is turning into lesbians or prostitutes
nhayi
,' Farayi say.
'Lesbian? That's just lack of real men; bring them these girls
here and we cure this silliness in one night,' I tell him.
Shingi and Farayi roar with laughter. Aleck is still standing like
some pole above us and look funny, not knowing what to do and
being like district administrator that want to taste the villagers'
brew that is passing around in calabash but don't know how to
join in the group because he is now big important man.
'You can sit over there, Aleck,' I point to other end of Farayi's
mattress. I throw blanket off my shoulders and jump up to go to
kitchen to get cup for him.
I pour him one shot, Aleck throw it down his throat in one
go and grin looking around at everyone like this is one great feat
he have achieve. I grin back and pour him another. Again he chuck
it down his throat. This time we clap like you do when some
minister has just cut the ribbon to open some new building or
something. All of us is all toothy mouths as I pour Master Aleck
another.
* * *
Alcohol encourage too much joy. You don't let alcohol or joy fill
you up too much. That's what Comrade Mhiripiri teach in our
training camp. The enemies of the state is always filled with too
much joy because the government is having hard time, Comrade
Mhiripiri say. But they have no ginger. That's because joy is never
good motivator; it stop the vex but it also bury you completely
under heaps of self-doubt; soon you is able to see both sides of
the story and that get your head all out of gear and then you
can't find the fire inside you. That's they biggest weakness them
enemies of the state, Comrade Mhiripiri tell us. They don't know
how to tie they hearts tight like ball of twine because they is too
joyful.
'Guys, things is getting tight. Rent has to go up to £35 per week
now. That's including gas and electricity,' Aleck tell us. We don't
say nothing but all drink in silence, avoiding each each's eyes and
counting our toes.
'
Ma
-face,' Aleck break the silence. 'You know what, I'm craving
sadza nemusoro watsomba
with granadilla Fanta all day.' Aleck laugh
to himself. 'And yesterday it was Freezits and rock buns.'
I have never think Aleck is the kind of number whose arse I
know inside out. Until now. These kind of yearnings –
sadza
nemusoro watsomba
and granadilla Fanta – that's fruit-and-vegetable-vendor-boy
diet. Fish head with granadilla Fanta – pure
bus-terminus combination. Still that don't say much. But the Freezits?
It's the Freezits and rock buns that clinch it. That is true vendor's
stuff.
Sadza
and fish head you can say, maybe anyone can eat that.
But Freezits and rock buns – no one have those kind of cravings
unless you was once part of it the bus-terminus-vending people.
Now we have one proper fruit-and-vegetable-vendor boy inside
our house. His rope-like, hard dry arms and them calloused hands
have all been there before, but I have not see it all this time.
Shingi and me, we have spend big part of school holidays
carrying them bags of mangoes and potatoes on our head to sell
to them commuters at the bus station so we can earn our school
fees. I know what I'm talking about. Aleck like to talk big. Until
tonight I have been thinking that maybe he come from proper
family, one that don't have to load they children with bags of
fruits and vegetables and send them to bus station. We is same
same, now it come out.
'So how come you know about Freezits and rock buns?' me I
ask Aleck. He get funny. 'Ah, you know, my auntie used to sell
them . . .' yep yep yep and all that kind of talk which people do
when they have been catch out. Me, Shingi and Farayi just look.
Tsitsi have long slip into house quiet and go straight to she room
upstairs because Aleck think he is she big brother and don't like
she around when we drink because he say she is too young and
also that with all she problems, if she get taste of alcohol things
go like spaghetti inside she head and she maybe lose it and end
up like one of them women that you find on the streets carrying
they babies and pulling faces into all kind of crazy triangles outside
Tube station.
'And this was not big part of your diet?'
Aleck deny and gulp his vodka, hoping we talk about something
else.
Why should we blow incense over fruit-and-vegetable vendor's
arse? Me I want to know.
Aleck have big heart, but sometimes he behave like grumpy
old school bursar. Before I move into the house, Farayi once fall
sick with some terrible bug and everyone is thinking is it the bird
flu. But Aleck will not lend him any money to buy medicine.
Shingi have no graft at the time and have turn his pockets inside
out to give everything towards rent. Farayi cough like chicken and
shake under his blankets. Shingi is convince that Farayi going to
die, but Aleck don't want to part with one penny because he think
Farayi is trying some funny style on him. Farayi don't want to go
to the hospital because he have already become illegal, and he
only start to get better when Tsitsi, feeling sorry for him, go to
buy him some medicine without telling Aleck.
Also Aleck have had run-in with Shingi. It is all because of
quarrel over bunch of bruised bananas that district administrator
eat thinking that they is going to the bin as they have go so bad
he don't think they is fit to be eat by human being, except himself.
He learn that he is not the only one who eat rotten fruit when
the original native, with big stammer and pointing one spitting
mad stump finger at the house rules, demand his bananas back.
Aleck leave our room and we all go kak kak kak into our pillows.
Shingi roll on the bed laughing and by accident knock the pile of
things that is by his bed on his suitcase. Things scatter all over
the floor and this rectangular pack full of them plastic nails fall
out into the open.
Halloween Nails
– that's what is written on it
in red and black. It's one of them packs that is sold at that nail
bar. Shingi rush and bundle it together with other things and
throw them inside his suitcase like he don't care about these things,
you know this kind of style. Now I know.
Tim have barrel stomach. Ricardo have no barrel stomach but he
have got funny exposed throat that stick out bent like chicken
throat because of his voice box. That's what I'm thinking. But days
push you in waves and soon you is washed off on some new and
unfamiliar shore. You want things back to being simple like they
was so you can focus on few things only but now you have to tight
every muscle because if you don't do that then life collect into one
big shapeless thing and soon the whole thing slip off your grasp.
It's all because of them kids that live in estate block near Tim's.
Two black boys, one Indian boy and one white girl. They is coming
to Tim's more and more now. They get on my nerves because I
can't focus now. They come in the afternoon, and sit at one of
them two tables and play out they is cool and all.
Now I am cleaning them tables and the floor on other side of
counter and they drop in, order chips and sit at the table. They
don't eat them chips and just sit there talking and watching me
cleaning around. Then, leaving them chips untouched, they run
away off cackling and pissing they pants wet.
Tim watch this and don't say nothing because he is breastfeeding
the machine. They is laughing at me and he do nothing
about it.
Next day they come again and leave the place bawling with
laughter. Tim call me to one side and tell me that when I am
polishing them salt shakers I should avoid spitting onto the cloth
that I use to polish. I listen up but them kids keep coming and
doing the same thing. Now Tim tell me that when I am wiping
dribble from ketchup and mayonnaise bokkles, I should stop doing
it with them my bare fingers because, even if he don't mind, maybe
them kids think it's not good hygiene, that is why they is not
touching they chips. Tim say I must make sure they have nothing
to laugh at and it will all end.
This thing now stretch all the skills inside my head.
I do as Tim say and I stop wiping ketchup with them fingers
but them kids don't stop coming. Now they come with two more
of they friends and they is laughing all the time and Tim is saying
we just leave them alone because they is going to get over it.
'I have do like you say and they is still being funny. Now they
is only coming to laugh at me and disturb me?'
No they are not laughing at you; they are only school kids,
that's what Tim say. Now he cook up some big excuse saying he
don't want to start something because kids like them have to be
given respect because maybe they carry small gun.
'I know kids me, if you allow me I can chase them away.'
There is big alarm on his face. 'But they're customers!'
Breastfeeding his machine all the time is getting Tim's head
out of gear; he don't understand that them kids is only coming
to laugh at me. I give him powerful look and he hold my gaze.
This is lot of hard work for this kind of peanut money, I don't
tell him. I just leave him propping the counter with his barrel
stomach.
In the morning I am lying down on the bed looking into ceiling
and trying to weigh options because you can't tell what kind of
animal is going to come out of the cloud of news from back home.
Aleck and Farayi have gone to they graft and Shingi is busy
doing CV so he can send it to Farayi's employment agency and
I have two hours before I start graft at Tim's. Suddenly Tsitsi
scream out loud and come running down the stairs. She burst
into our room with limp baby in she hands. The baby have vomit
blood while asleep and now she don't know if it only pass out or
has already dead.
We jump out of bed to look but I don't know what to do with
them things like that. Shingi take piece of broken mirror from
bathroom and hold it over mouth of baby that Tsitsi have now
put down on the bed as she wail. Small steam collect on the mirror.
He jump and tell Tsitsi we have to get baby to hospital chop chop.
Shingi jump into his clothes and they dash out of house to catch
minicab to hospital with whole street looking out of they window
on account of big racket that Tsitsi is making as she follow behind
Shingi who is now carrying baby.
When we arrive at hospital and them nurses and doctors take
away baby on trolley and leave us in some waiting room, Tsitsi
now start wailing in proper native way, wrapping them arms around
she head and throwing sheself about on the hospital floor in disorderly
way and frightening English people. Two nurses have to
help Shingi to restrain and calm she down and in the end Shingi
is sitting on bench with his arms wrapped tight around she shoulders
and head. She have bury she face on Shingi's chest. That's
when Shingi whisper to me that people is looking at us funny.
'Maybe you should go away because if you stay around maybe
the hospital people start asking too many questions about immigration
papers and all,' that's what Shingi say. 'If that happen it
put Tsitsi in hard place,' he add.
I can see on his face the style that he is trying to tackle me
with; but me I don't make no arguments because it's not good
for Tsitsi. I disappear without no word.