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Drinking binges, Mtapa graves and Zanu PF misrule

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Drinking binges, Mtapa graves and Zanu PF misrule


By Dumisani Kufaruwenga

The city of Gweru, like any other city in Zimbabwe, is overcrowded, waterless, full of potholes, full of noisy bars.
Just like all Zimbabwean cities, Gweru also has a decaying industry, with most of the industrial structures having fallen into disuse, towering and yawning into the empty sky like some pre-historic dinosaurs, rusty relics from a once glorious past.
Rigid results of the ruling Zanu PF’s ruinous rule.
But the bars of Gweru are nonetheless rowdy and riotous, with the gold artisanal miners of Lower Gweru and Boterekwa in Shurugwi competing with each other in the game of extravagance, drinking and whoring.

The white men built the black townships of Mambo, Ascot and Mtapa close to the industrial sites in Gweru for easy access to manual labour.
And as if to spite the labourers, the white men positioned a cemetery between the black residential suburbs and the Central Business District.
It is called Mtapa cemetery.
The white men preserved for themselves the affluent suburbs on the other side of town where you find fancy names like Lundi Park and Southdowns.
It is in Southdowns where Malamino of Gweru lives.
Malamino loves his beer.

So Malamino has these friends who are gold artisanal miners. Last weekend, these friends of Malamino literally struck gold. They were loaded. They invited Malamino to the township of Mambo for a drinking binge. Malamino could not miss it for anything in the world.
So Malamino descended from his high horse of Southdowns and travelled to the ghetto in downtown Mambo where his friends of gold fortune plied with drink after drink.
“Let those who live
Let those who ly at
Mtapa cemetery sink”
So Malamino of Gweru drank.

It was now dark. The friends of gold fortune decided to call it a day. They left Malamino of Gweru with a stipend, enough to buy onether round of beer and enough for a taxi ride to Southdowns.
But Malamino of Gweru, in his drunken stupor, decided that he really didn’t need a taxi to take him from Mambo to Southdowns in Gweru. He could easily walk towards the dinosaurous industrial sites, cut through Mtapa cemetery where the dead are buried, emerge on the other side of town on Bulawayo road, and descend into Southdowns where he lives.
It was therefore only logical that he spends the taxi fare on more drink.
And so Malamino of Gweru drank, and the voice of Mambo Dhuterere, from the noisy bar’s PA system, sang;
“There’s something I
hear deep inside my
The Lord Jesus
whispers to me;
You shall walk
You shall walk softly”

Malamino of Gweru was now woozy with drink. He bought four quarts of beer with the last of his taxi fare and placed them in a plastic bag. He rose from the bar stool and staggered out of the noisy bar, homeward bound. In less than an hour, he’d be in his comfortable home in Southdowns.
That didn’t happen.
As he cut through Mtapa cemetery, an open quart of beer in one hand, and a plastic bag with three quarts of beer dangling in the other hand, Malamino of Gweru found himself in a free fall, floating in air, crashing at the bottom of an empty grave.
Both Malamino of Gweru and the beers were unharmed.
Countless times he tried to scale the walls of the empty grave to the surface, countless times Malamino of Gweru failed..
He resigned to his fate. He decided to sleep in the grave and wait for help the following morning. After all, it was warm inside the grave. After all, he had enough drink to last him the night.
As Malamino of Gweru dozed off sitting on the floor of the grave, leaning against the far wall, he heard clearly someone singing, someone staggering towards his grave.

The singing and staggering drunken man above Malamino’s head fell headlong and came crashing into Malamino’s grave.
Malamino of Gweru smiled to himself with malicious glee. He decided not to alert the drunken intruder about his own presence in the grave.
He decided to see, and wait.
The drunken intruder, who was completely unaware of Malamino’s presence in the grave, tried countless times to scale the walls of the grave to the surface, and countless times the intruder failed.
Just like Malamino had done, the drunken intruder resigned to his fate and decided to sleep in the grave.
That is when Malamino spoke;
“It’s not possible to
scale the grave wall
without outside help.”

That is when the drunken intruder screamed with obvious terror. He leapt and dug his fingers and toes into the grave wall like the claws of a cat, and climbed out of the grave, and fled out of Mtapa cemetery, faster than a hungry cheater chasing potential prey.
Malamino of Gweru laughed with even more malicious glee. He drew closer to the wall of the grave, took a swig of his beer, and snored contentedly.
Next morning, ladies from Mambo township who vend their wares at Bata Shoe Company, who were on their way to work, rescued Malamino of Gweru and pulled him out of the grave.
Off then to Southdowns Malamino went, with a plastic bag with two quarts of beer, the two quarts of beer which symbolise the destruction of Zimbabwean industry, and the rise of destructive gold mining.https://masvingomirror.com

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