The Sunday Mail
THE moment they caught sight of Nomara, imbibers and the women who sell half-cooked chicken pieces at the bottle store verandah scampered in different directions like wildebeest fleeing a hungry lioness.
“How can you have a whole man leaving the comfort of his home to come and be a problem at this drinking spot? If it continues like this, we will do something to him,” one guzzler warned in a voice filled with emotion as he took cover from behind a nearby tree.
You could tell the man’s patience had been stretched to the limit as he hyperventilated while musing about Nomara.
Those who failed to run away just protectively held their beer containers to their chest.
This has become the new norm at bottle stores and drinking spots dotted around the country.
Some characters are dreaded by guzzlers because of their penchant for borrowing and bumming for beer and cigarettes.
They will drink anything that comes their way, from opaque beer, spirits to lagers.
Called “choppers”, “parasites”, “kumbirai”, “chiname”, “chinamira”, “sponge” or “mumvuri”, such people have the unenviable gift of turning your time away from home into a nightmare.
People often visit beer-halls to kill time and unwind, and most drinkers, working on a tight budget, take with them just enough for two or three beers.
Most often they do not budget for “parasites”, who usually come in different shapes and sizes and cut across all ages and sexes.
Sometimes knowing or being known by these chaps feels like a crime.
They will come wherever you will be and try to make a conversation — however, meaningless it might be — during which time they will inevitably strike.
At times they will come when you are with respectable people, like your in-laws.
You see, being a chopper requires skill and patience. Most of them usually know a thing or two about their victim’s family, his job and interests.
They will greet you by your totem, which is considered one of the biggest marks of respect in African tradition, before waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
In order to wring a beer or two from you, they will lavishly praise you in a way that would make renowned poets such as Mzwake Mbuli and Albert Nyathi seriously think about recharging their professional batteries.
“My brother of good fortune, we need to thank the stars and the heavens for looking after you this much. The more you are growing, the more you are resembling your father who made it a point during his lifetime that critical matters should not be discussed on dry throats,” the chaps will tell you before asking you to buy them one or two quarts.
And the moment you yield to their flattery, you risk spending all you have on them. But, if you buy them one quart and turn away, you are quickly reminded: “Murume haarohwe netsvimbo imwechete (To win a fight, you cannot club the enemy once).”
Some cheeky fellows will grab your beer and help themselves to it. It is the same with women who are in the business of demanding favours from people at bottle stores.
They know how to play on a victim’s mind and get their way.
“It appears you are suffering these days. How come you seem not to afford to buy even one pint when we thought people like you are the real ambassadors? I thought I could love you but stingy people will kill me with hunger,” the women will tell you jokingly while demanding that you prove them otherwise by buying them a beer.
You have to be nuts to have a braai near such people. Parasites are, however, not only found at beerhalls. At workplaces such people abound. Such characters always barely have enough.
Even if it is pay-day, they will sponge on you as if you are eternally obliged to always provide for them. It is also common in churches, where some church members have the habit of dropping by early in the morning and spend the world day making up story after story, all the while helping themselves to your food.
Even if you make up an excuse by coming up with an imaginary journey so that they can leave, they will still insist on accompanying you.
Parasites can also be found in families.
These are family members who will pretend that they are not supposed to contribute anything even at funerals.
It is worse if you live together.
They will happily munch on food that you would have purchased and never feel like they are supposed to also contribute.
A reminder for them to act responsibly is often met with the refrain: “Ko ndineiko? (I am broke)”.
Surely, acting responsibly cannot be that hard.
Inotambika mughetto.
