HoneyCrisp 2. Fuji

If the independence in some countries came through hard selfless protracted liberation war struggles, where reigning autocratic despots of presidents were once guerilla heroes/ines, when were the liberation wars for Australia, Brazil, India, Pakistan and Argentine fought?

2. Fuji

Keith had been invited to play cricket in the small gold mining town of Shamva. He and a few others had benefactors taking them from Harare via Bindura to Shamva. He had at one time been in Mt. Darwin to play cricket as well for a young upcoming club. He could not sign on because of the finances. He would have starved. At least in the capital city, he was in odd jobs if not the shop of Kennedy for income purposes. Though the love of the game had been conducive, the allowances were pittances not fir for a pensioner.

Shamva sat somewhere near the middle of Mashonaland Central province. If gold grains were scattered underground like in Johannesburg, Shamva would have been bigger than Pretoria. Its biggest official gold was Shamva Mine sited 70-odd kilometres north east of Harare. Gold was also produced by many small scale alluvial miners who had to deal with the pyrite rock within the volcaniclastics deposits. Their production was too minimal to turn Shamva from a village setting into a sprawling city. The most notable sectors in the high education division were schools that were known beyond the province like Chindunduma and Madziva Wadzanai. Most notable on the way to Shamva was the Mwanga Lodge with its fantastic range of wild animals to be perused by most city dwellers within the environs of the city of Harare. It is a pristine place for events or a day out.

The land was full of rich soils for agricultural purposes instead. Maybe one day some mining giant would find a lode of different mineral ores that tipped the scales. That is, if the politicians, scoundrels, mining schemers/confidence and land grab artistes didn’t go there first to twist the arms of the investors. By some fate it remained a small gold mining town, agricultural depot and passing point for travellers needing refreshments.

The area was surrounded by rich land used for crop and livestock farming. In most years the rains were good. It was a good rain belt. To farmers and the agricultural industry it was an oasis. It was like an invitation which normally increased exposure. All sports required a certain level of competition to keep athletes on their toes. It helped them through physical, emotional, mental and financial strain.

Besides that there was a small stipend at the end. It was a chance to showcase skills and improve on performances. The more competitive matches were arranged by individuals and companies the more exposure the game and its players received. Lack of games created lethargy in many an athlete. Most athletes and sports personalities were lost due to lack of funding. They pursued other lucrative careers and side hustles. Imagine calling on your local doctor. They tell you they are in an underground shaft somewhere making extra money by drilling holes for blasting. These invites worked like franchises adding to stretched financial allowances.

Honestly speaking how does one improve their game without exposure to good matches? Let’s say a batsman was out for a duck. If there were two professional matches a month, how did they improve their standing? It was like a truck driver explaining he had driven truck for ten years when all he did was shunting on a depot. Where is the experience of facing traffic jams, bad weather, bad roads, road carnage and road rage? He agreed to the event knowing there would be a surprise as to which people would be making up the two tussling sides.

He concluded his cricket ministry returning to his home base. Four of them had been ferried by two benefactors who liked the sport. They had been set to bowl first. He was a medium to fast paced bowler. Even with the bat, he at times was an attacking batsman. His mood in with the bat depended on how he judged and was learning to respect the bowled ball. He had not yet reached the standard of cricket greats who could almost move to a metre or two away from their defended wicket to parry balls over the boundaries or into the ground/roofs beyond. He did a lot of psychology psyching himself up. He had tried varying the delivery of the ball as a bowler. Unfortunately he was a right arm bowler. He could not vary left and right like a few bowlers could. He was weary of spin, it opened a can of worms

He tried a leg cutter, off-cutter, reverse swing and out swingers. He had played some dud balls with some near misses to clean bowl the batsmen. There was one drop catch. Another ball had fallen a wee too short for the diving fielder. He didn’t get any batsman for a duck. He did not record a maiden over. He had tried polishing the shiny part of the ball to bring swings which could throw batsmen off balance. To him the attempts had worked. At least he had been a good bowler for his team.

He had been creamed of a few boundaries. He had bowled slower balls mixing them with short, good, and then square balls. In the end he had received 4 wickets for 56 runs. That wasn’t bad. That would set him in pole position had he been playing for the national team. He would have a good economy record in bowling.

In batting, he had sent down some serious side swipes, hitting the balls over the wicket keeper in cheeky fashion thrice for boundaries. If Andy Flower could make it look easy, he could try it. He judged the cheeky balls to bat first. When he chose the good delivery way above the waist, he would spin back, open his wicket wide knowing the ball was going above the bails. Then he would lob the ball while also trying to jump and spin on one foot. The ball would if luck was with him pass the wicket keeper out of reach before landing where there were no fielders heading for the line. He had hit two batsmen for 6s thrice. His score had been an impressive 84 runs for 66 balls. In the end ambition had seen him missing a ball that had clipped the bails cleanly. He had had an early shower.

“I have disappointed my golf buddies,” his host and major sponsor had said. “Can I invite you to lunch and a round of golf tomorrow Sunday around 1130hrs start?”

“Yeah I was thinking of learning about golf. If I can play soccer, basketball, baseball and cricket. Why shouldn’t I try golf?” he asked. “Maybe who knows I may challenge Nick Price, Gary Player and Tiger Woods on the fairway?”

“I did challenge the Zimbabwe Open champion Nasho Kamungeremu on several sponsored business golf tournaments. I will have to up my game to be where he is.”

He remembered that Keisha had said she was a golf player who knew the ropes. What a cheeky way of getting to know her game without him ever meeting her again? Who wanted to meet a lady that played a fair birdie in the hole type of a game again? What were the chances of them meeting again? Once in ten thousand or a million?

“Let’s try golf Sir Sedgwick.”

Keith met with Sedgwick at the appointed time after church services for both. Sunday was a good day to rest. If one was unemployed, unemployable or without anything to do, Sunday or public holidays was just a grind of finding something to pass the day. Town House proper looked deserted. Julius Nyerere Way, which passed near it as a point of rendezvous to the east was busy. Keith saw Sedgwick driving in along Julius Nyerere Way heading towards Gordon Avenue.

Sedgwick had the demeanour that had traffic cops waving him through not only because of the expensive cars he drove. He had that air of political authority when he didn’t even know a political slogan or manifesto. There was an added advantage of looking sharp, smart, educated, powerful and white haired. No sane police officer suspected such of driving under the influence of alcohol, drugs or without a licence/insurance.

The best that Sedgwick had was an eye for picking details. Reading a financial statement, Sedgwick could tell a white lie from a blue one. His CIMA (Charted Institute of Management Accountants) qualifications added to a Masters in Financial Management had seen him riding high as an investment banker with a renowned banking concern. He had shifted focus to head a consortium of investors populated by more black people than Asian.

He had groomed his investment group initiatives investing in companies that showed promise advising their board to sell when he smelt a rat. Now he had been well rewarded with investments in shopping malls, buildings, industrials and the dividends poured in.

Keith was not driving. He swung around 360˚ degrees checking for both municipal and national traffic police details. This was not a designated drop off or pick up point. He made sure he was having a clear vision so there would be no hidden spikes. There were trees spread in the avenue from whence could pounce a police detail unnoticed. Normally they could be discerned if in plain clothes by their haircuts and the instinctive qualities of their quarry.

He stood up straight from the rails that formed a steel fence around Town House. He had to respect the place from where distances to every town and city were calculated starting from and to. He had been leaning there. He headed for the kerb. The steel fence went around the four corners of the block shielding Town House from the public. From there he had been able to watch a vast swathe of urban territory around Town House. Here he could see different types of people running the rat race of life in Harare. He could see municipal policemen moving around checking compliances with city parking regulations. He could see the bustle and hurry of the city. People moved with speed mixing and matching like a colony of ants.

Sedgwick flashed his left indicator stopping briefly enough for Keith to board while checking traffic whizzing past him. The Land Cruiser Prado had hummed on its way. Keith got in. He strapped himself in. He discovered that the door had clicked on of its own accord. It was unlike a kombi door that needed a sledgehammer pull to shut. One had to reshut it at times twice. With some doors whose hinges were rusty, it was a battle of the titans. At times the sliding apparitions shut and required horse power from the outside to open again. They greeted talking family shop. Being a person that stayed with his elder brother there was little to talk about.

“I think I will be in time to play some great holes. Let us hope today I avoid wadding in water like a male crocodile which I did last time. Maybe the sand obstacle is much better to losing points. Though, I enjoyed cricket yesterday. I almost thought we were heading for a draw. That game was a photo finish, unpredictable to the end.”

“Any match that is a tight rope or photo finish excites the crowd. You are heading to Chapman’s Golf Course?”

“No there are many golf courses in town including my mini rink at home.”

“Let’s go for golf,” he had replied. “I am taking notes of the game today. Will I be your caddy?”

“No. I will teach you a few strokes, variation and choosing the clubs. Caddies I have in plenty. They mostly have a little bit of experience. They can even tell you to straighten up before putting the ball or they can pick a club for you.”

Cricket had sponsors who came out of the blue to help like Sedgwick. He had been hosted at his Mandara double storey residence once. He and the other team as well had been invited for post-match supper and drinks. Favour landed in some quarters. It skipped others. Keith did not know the number of bedrooms the residence had. Judging from the six vehicle carport split into two, he judged there were about eight. Keith had been hosted with teammates as well at several residences owned by people of Asian descent who supported and funded the game. It left him with a determination to do well.

They had had their supper near a glistening swimming pool, then. This Sunday they had lunch at a golf course near Isis Avenue in Vainona within the sphere of greater Borrowdale. Vainona Primary School was close by. This was the residential venues of the well to do in society. The golfers were the top of the range people in various fields. They drove themselves in and out. Keith was yet to see a pedestrian golfer who came lugging their kit through the gates. He guessed he could not afford the monthly insurance fees alone for full cover for any one of the vehicles present.

For what remained of the day he was working with the boys playing his ball there and retrieving it. He was taught the basics of swing and checking for hazards while the men battled it out for the day’s honours. Sedgwick had been correct in his assessment. The caddies had knowledge of the game. They had the theory without the practical. They knew how things were done like an office orderly knew were things were stowed. It was like how fans of soccer knew so much about team selection when they never made the grade to team manager/trainer or coach. It was dark when their team ambled back into the club house.

“I indulge myself with imported beer,” Sedgwick had said. “What will you have? Do you take beer or wine?”

“I do not take alcohol. The only alcohol content issue I allow myself to take are medications and energy drinks. I will have roasted peanuts and a Coke. Thanks a lot Sedgwick. From here I can find my way.”

“No, no, what are friends for. You are half my age. Don’t worry,” Sedgwick had said. “I will drop you in the city. Have you ever tried for the national team?”

"A dozen and a half times. I have applied for trials. I have presented myself. I did the trials and tests with the bat, the glove as wicket keeper and bowling. I have bowled short, full and yokers to no avail as yet. I haven't caught the eye of the selectors. Maybe I have been firing blanks missing the target all the same."

"Being called to the national team will increase your profile. If they don't call you, apply to teams as far as Namibia, Kenya and the Middle East. It is easier to apply for trials in Africa and the Asian sub-continent than Europe or the Americas including the islands, New Zealand and Australia. Cricket unlike other sports has limitations in that in certain countries it may be played low profile without the host country playing in the national cricket leagues. There are associate members of the cricket worldwide who may not play ODIs or tests yet there are cricket teams there.

“These people think all we do is be economic refugees. The Middle East has many openings. They pay exceedingly well for talent. The competition is very fierce. They even lure those cricket greats who are retiring their games. However they have tough religious laws there especially for unattached younger people. You can survive. There is a mechanical engineer who has been in Jeddah the last ten years with his family. He comes every year. He now has residual income investments here. He remains a local boy attending his local church. It just needs discipline. They play good cricket, train good horses for the races too. They pay very well. If you were a good horse jockey worse trainer, their salaries and allowances in the Middle East would have you having lunch with top chief executives in Harare. You would have the bank manager's first name and their contacts. Playing cricket outside our country perimeter will open you to invaluable contacts worldwide."

"Yes Sir. I am still sending out feelers like a cat feeling the walls at night. The local scene has restrictions. In Eswatini they have a proverb. A man that does not travel will marry their sister. I do not want to marry my sister’s friend and till the field next to my father’s. I do not want to be seen by my father walking on foot because there is no bus. I want to do my good stuff far away so they don’t worry about me."

"Another point that covers you Keith and Kennedy, your older brother if you want to listen to an older man. This is unsolicited advice. Our own proverb, you can choose to use or throw away advice. Only a fool does not listen to the speech of a seasoned and older man. I may not be a wisdom sage or guru."

"I am listening."

"When both of you play cricket, think of the future. Picture this, two years ago I flipped my Toyota Hilux Vigo when a Kenworth heavy duty truck came into my lane. Don’t worry about who was to blame. Where I a politician I would blame the opposition or unseen enemies. I got a new vehicle to replace through full cover insurance. My hospital checkups and conveyance in a state of the art ambulance was medical over. You got my message?"

"Insurance."

"Apply insurance to everything wherever you play in case things turn sour. Even if you leave cricket, insurance doesn't mean paying premiums. It means preparing for the future. Your age has problems. You see someone driving a Nissan something. The next loan you get you buy a Hyundai. You will have applied for an AU bank loan to buy a grinding mill. The guy with the Nissan is selling staff out of the boot, making money. With your Hyundai that you drive at 110-kilometres per hour in a 60-kilometres per hour zone, you are spending money and risking all our lives. With your Hyundai, your half a dozen friends are taking turns to borrow and cruise looking for women. Some don't even use the clutch. They just change gears. Some don't even see the speed humps, they ride over them at speed.

"You have different scenarios. Two guys have diplomas. Both are working in the banking industry. One buys a Volvo sedan. The other applies for a loan to buy something similar. What they forget is one is living with parents who operate a surgery. The other is a first born and the only current bread winner. Responsibilities are different. You get educated through parents taking loans or some society benefiting you then you forget your background. The future does not select who is silly and unwise. It just comes like the night. You cannot hide away from change of season. You want to compete in buying suits with a guy whose parents have given him a prime residential stand to start off. You are starting afresh with no parental help.

“Get some more money and you want an S-class Mercedes Benz to park in a street so narrow you can hardly park a push cart. Good for the ghettos. You have boys that use screw drivers to write the names of prostitutes on your set of wheels. You don't have anywhere to park it, let alone property. Invest in residual income like shares, properties and other assets maintained by estate agents or financial advisors. Don't walk into an investment bank or estate agent to look for a job. Walk in there to give them a portfolio to manage. The manager will bring you tea! Spread your risk.

“My first bank loan, I bought our neighbour's semidetached in Mabvuku. The next two years, I had extended it. My parents were collecting rent and spending it! They made sure I was blessed by talking about it, appreciating what I was doing for them. Imagine me visiting home, my mother would say you see the forty chickens I sold last week, your income funded that project. You see where I learnt to flip the dollar? Have a coke and a sausage roll son! I received parental blessings. I was an asset to my late parents not a liability or a curse. These spiritual things work whether you believe in them or not. It does not matter your home is the Moon or Mars. I got a loan to enter into a partnership raising 125, 000-chickens.”

“Myself, my elder sisters and Kennedy we invested in a fowl run and piggery. It is not much. We are making something with both the fowls and the pigs with which we are changing the old homestead from a retirement place after work to a state of the art rural residence. I can actually make it rural the same way I make it here. It’s just that I am a diesel mechanic and cricket player. I can’t be both in the rural reserves. This year one of our biggest crops was sweet potatoes. We don’t haul them. The buyers are bring their pick-up trucks and own labour.”

"I went into piggery with up to 400 swines. I made them into a roster so they produced piglets every month such that I was selling pigs every month too to offset costs. You name it. I am not gloating. You have a certain type of promise. I look at business proposals. I pray over them. I go back. Out of hundreds, I find three that I give loans to which blown up into credible enterprises where we invest. You have the same promise in you. Check out for scammers on the local business market. The genuine are there. Identify them, invest and become a silent partner. Don't invest in a livestock or cotton, tobacco, soya bean and wheat scheme with your local uncle or cousin. There are thousands of farmers who have business ideas coming out of their mouths. They flood you like the Zambezi in the 1950s. It is the one that can implement who becomes the master of those who talk. Your relatives in the farming community will fleece you!

"I moved the parents to rented accommodation in Coronation Avenue, Greendale. My father was telling the whole clan every time he went rural that he had a tub in his bedroom and a set of wardrobe doors fitted into the wall. I remodelled their 4-roomed quarters. After that, they started collecting rent. I bought them a better place in Msasa Park when it had just started. That was to ensure parental blessings continue. When my dad retired, I took his pension lump sum, added salt to vinegar. He started going to collect shop rentals at Dema every month from three clients. My three younger siblings I sponsored further education two in France and one in the United States. That is where I am getting my USA and French visas.

“Don't keep all your chickens in one coop. There is Newcastle disease and avian influenza. Don't bet on a large head of cattle. There are political rustlers, thieves, unscrupulous butcheries, the Mafia and tick borne diseases if foot and mouth, rinderpest and anthrax miss your head. Even Mike Tyson went broke. I don't know about Jack Dempsey, Oscar De La Hoya or Evander Holyfield. Some clubs overseas will cover you. Local is another matter. What stops you from opening your own life policy to cover against injury, accidents, insanity, sickness, death, retirement or marriage?"

"Sir! Is there a policy for marriage?"

They laughed like small boys.

"Remember some truth Keith. Someone I know trained as a secondary school teacher at Gweru Teachers' College. For sone time he taught Bible Knowledge to forms 3 & 4 in Dzivaresekwa. He taught for less than ten years. He learnt about insurance broking somehow. He left teaching to join a concern that brokers for motor vehicle, life, pension and funeral insurance. He is one of my greatest golf buddies almost ten years after he stopped putting chalk on the board. His Sunridge house couldn't be afforded by the secretary for education if you check their salary, allowances even when they travel outside the country. He is now a Regional Manager for what they call Mashonaland Province covering a third of the top of the country.

"You play cricket. If it is slow in laying the golden egg, find an opportunity and jump in on all fours. Who knows you may end up being the greatest importer of domestic gas in the country. You can never grow bigger than any donor you are dependant upon. A rural guy who waits for his relatives to bring him jam, sugar, flour, seed, fertilizer, chemicals like pesticides, butter and bread will never have a brick under tile house. Review your mentality all the time."

"Wise words indeed. I grew up in the rural areas until age around thirteen when I went peri rural. There are people with ideas but no for finances. There are old sages who can give ideas yet their own lives have fallen apart. There are projects I am working on with Kennedy and the sisters. We rent in fields to grow crops for sale like groundnuts. We run chickens and pigs for the markets. We are trying something. We can't talk about dreams that are yet to mature. Thanks anyway for the insight."

© Copyright tmagorimbo July 2017