My Zimbabwe kind of Ghetto Life

28 May, 2017 - 00:05 0 Views
My Zimbabwe kind of Ghetto Life

The Sunday Mail

Miriraishe Mavundutse, U6  St Dominic’s High School (Mutare)
The speakers next door are blurring such that they are capable of bringing down the great walls of China, Pamamonya ipapo and ‘Kudonhedza musika’ being the heat songs storming the Zimdancehall genre.

It has become a gnome every Friday night as the Ghetto youths gather for their late night party. It’s a struggle to take a sleep on a day like this yet I badly need one after a long week of school. This makes me feel outrageous. I wake up to the noise of our neighbours’ four year old son crying as he prefers the ball his older brother is playing with. My weekend sleep has just been shortened.

I lay for quite a while in my bed reminiscing about last night’s dream, a huge smile forms on my face. I get out of my bed promptly, dress up and dash out of the house in time to catch up with the garbage truck.  Luckily most of the trash had been taken out the previous day. The little kids join each other as they chant, “Maswerasei Amadodabini” yet its sometime past seven in the morning!

I head back in the house after collecting the bin and my usual weekend routine begins. Unfortunately, today there is no water so my sisters and I round up all the empty buckets and bottles and we place them in the wheelbarrow.  It’s almost a five hundred metre walk to fetch the water. I know after this little exercise I am going to need a really big nap. Surprisingly today the queue wasn’t that long.

Around 10am, I take the dollar on the kitchen counter to buy bread at the tuck-shop. I know the snooker guys are inclined to calling me stupid names that moment I will be passing by. Well, thanks to technology, I just plug in my earphones, sing along to some tunes and save myself from hearing obnoxious comments.

The girl at the counter tells me she doesn’t have a ten cents change. She lives me with no choice but to take the sweets as she has suggested. As the sun is about to set, my sisters and I head out to sell the sausages in our little cooler box. We wait patiently as I pray silently for someone to purchase.

My heart enlightens when a woman comes towards our selling point only to make me frown when I realise it’s the usual pregnant woman who always purchases everything on credit since the day we started making sales.

Life in the ghetto can be indeed a hard knocking one but, trust me, it is worth the while.

  • TO WIN A TABLET,Students send your stories to Fungayi Sox via email on [email protected] OR [email protected]. Only shortlisted stories will be published and will automatically qualify for the grand-draw.Last date of submission of entries is 31 May 2017.

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