Today something quite serendipitous happened to me. And it reinforced what I’ve been feeling during this time in Zim and all we are going through at the moment. What I haven’t felt is despondent or pessimistic, and I often question this – thinking maybe I should join in more with the complaining or possibly be more worried about what is going to happen, how I’m going to pay my bills & my son’s school fees, how I’m going to continue running my little business and how I’m going to cope with all the other daily pressures of adulting in Zim – which are quite definitely higher here than in some other parts of the world.
But then I think to myself, no ways – my optimism, my hope and my gut feeling that things will always be ok is what keeps a smile on my face and a grateful and positive attitude in my soul.
Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I’m the proudest Zimbo around! I flippin love my country. And I like to believe that one of my strengths is my ability to remain positive and cheerful. I have my challenging moments, but thankfully they don’t usually last too long. As far as I’m concerned, negativity can do one!
So I was sitting in a fuel queue at my local garage this morning. I have got to know the attendants so I was messaged early by one of them to say they had petrol and the queue wasn’t long. Yayyy! Happy dancing in my kitchen and joyful proclaiming to my cat, Tallulah that I’m going to fill up my tank before the price undoubtably goes up again next week. Tallulah didn’t give two hoots about the dance or the joyful proclaiming, or the price of petrol for that matter; she just wanted her breakfast.
Anyway, so off I skedaddled to join the petrol queue. I drove past Gilbert The Buddie Man, who smiled widely and waved enthusiastically in greeting, as he always does. In the four years I’ve lived in this area, he is the person I’ve regularly bought river sand, top soil, manure, 3/4 stones and bricks from. So I know him quite well and we have a good rapport. I noticed that there weren’t the usual piles of sand etc on the roadside where he normally has them, ready to sell, and I wondered why. A short while after I’d been sitting in the queue, Gilbert wandered over to chat and he told me that City of Harare had removed all his stones, manure etc because he doesn’t have a licence to sell them.
Thousands of zollars worth taken with no compensation or chance to recover it. CoH do this regularly to vendors no matter what they are selling. I asked him why he doesn’t get a licence – he told me he has applied & paid three times but they have never issued him with one. Can he do anything about it? No. Is he going to restock and start selling again? Yes. “I’m a family man so I have to do something and make a plan.” And the whole time Gilbert was telling me about this sad and unfair situation, he had a smile on his face and was the eternal optimist.
As is the case with most Zimbabweans – the gogos selling fruit and veg on the roadside, the wood carver vendor.
By Tarryn Calder