HoneyCrisp 19. Ambrosia

FREE

Free government accommodation, free electricity, free education, free water, armed security details patrolling perimeter fences, free food and dietician services, free exercises in wide yards, free sports affiliation, free bedding, free fumigation, free laundry, free uniforms and medical cover. The package includes free life skills training, access to library and even free chaplaincy.

Join your country's penitentiary system as an inmate.

19. Ambrosia

“Maybe I will make myself someone’s concubine,” Keisha had suggested. The words were spoken in pain, in resignation to life's cruelty. Why was life so cruel in certain circumstances? Why did people marry then become childless yet others were so poor but with a roomful of children they could not feed? Why did some couples marry and breakoff soon after when others could not find anyone to sign on the dotted line?

They were near Marondera at a quaint restaurant having lunch with her younger sibling Keandra and Derrick. She was accompanying her younger sister and husband were on their way to Rusape, Derrick's family home. Derrick had left the table to answer a long distance call from Canada. It was an ex-classmate with whom they had weekly doses of telephone contact. News that filtered between ex-classmates included job offers or business contacts. Job offers at times meant projects, tenders and proposals to which monetary gains were attached. Some classmates reached the moon and turned back forgetting their former friends.

“Whatever for Keisha, do you know what that means big sister?” Keandra had asked.

“You tell me. To me it means the dating game is a shame. It is in shambles. I have hurt long enough,” she replied. "It does pay to date anymore. I keep hitting brick walls every time. At my age it's insulting to remain single without any prospects. Someone had the chic to suggest I take on board a younger man especially fresh from college or university, unemployed, brilliant but handsome. I work and all he does is be the man of the house."

There was a note of resignation or frustration. It was one of those things which made someone regret later after making a very stupid misjudged decision. Keandra was at times very worried about Keisha’s spinsterhood. She had reasons to worry. Though their family was built on faith in worship, Keandra knew that even giants like King David, Solomon, Samson and others had fallen if not once several times. This side of the New Testament falling once was not guaranteed to be given a second chance.

“A concubine in old Biblical times or the Middle East was/is a female that availed themselves for sexual pleasure for a man in return for being looked after the same way as a wife without the rights of a wife. There was no social welfare in those days, no pension or royalties/dividends to support the widowed. A concubine was a level better than that of a harlot. At least you waited for the pleasure of a single man you shared with others. Unfortunately there were classes with more rights than the concubines.

"At least she belonged to one man for his pleasure when and if he remembered her. If you read between the lines, the concubine would go through maternity and all its risks to give birth to children she could not call her own. I do not know what happened when the real wife was widowed. The concubine stood a good chance to be chucked away without her brood.

"The last I heard one Turkish sultan had a harem of about three hundred of these concubines. He had black male slaves to look after his harem. He had them castrated just to make sure nature did not play tricks on him. They kept the harem in check, making sure they did not cheat or their heads would be castrated. I am yet to hear of a headless man sitting in a courtyard. Headless ghosts, I have heard tell of. I don't want to know how he serviced wives and concubines at the same time in that number. The book I read said he had children with all of them. Only his seed was used to produce hundreds of children. He was an alpha male. If I remember well, this sultan had about four hundred or more children. Fancy a man not knowing the names of his children under such conditions. They would need tags. Where is son #131?”

“Yeah, that is better than being called a street prostitute. It is much better than having a string of male escorts different weeks/periods apart, all of them interested in yodelling at you one after another. You end up with names like street signage or graffiti, harlot, prostitute, side chick or sidewalk or latest bitch!”

“Yes of course. In those days even in Middle East countries today, concubines are there. There where there in China less than a century and a half ago. If the man is drunk and has friends, you can be called up as sexual entertainment for the whole group. When you wake up they will have all taken their pleasure of you. Your master will ditch you. Read the Bible someone killed his concubine whom he had given to some men to wet their appetites.”

“This is the modern age,” Keisha replied.

“Exactly big sister, why go that low? Were you not the same one who told us not to shame the family by having children out of wedlock? I married late as well but earlier than you. I know what people said to father. He had four daughters and no sons. It is a sacrilege in our culture.”

“If you are younger than me and people say you married late, imagine what those people are saying about me. My dates are crumbling like a deck of cards. Imagine me actually sweet talking this younger man at church. He was a potential someone who walked in, had promise, was well cultured and had the charisma. He tells me he doesn’t fancy a sexual relationship outside marriage worse marriage with a woman older than him. I wasn’t even initiating sex which is a taboo in church anyway.

“All I wanted was to enjoy someone’s company while waiting for a series of programs that never materialized. He was gawking at big me. Maybe it was my front elevation, stomach pouch, hips or backsides that threatened him with extinction. I liked making new friends. Problems with the ladies was they told everyone whatever they knew about you or what they saw. Men don’t tell. You invite a man home and he expects you to be alone! That was a misnomer for dating.“

“That is a date’s own preference sister. If I remember well concubines are like what we call small houses or sidekicks or chicks definitely not spring chickens. With small houses or substitute wives you don’t marry. He is already married. You either bear him children out of wedlock or you just have a relationship. He can also cheat on you while expecting you to be loyal. You will not be immune to horrid diseases like HIV/AIDS which when fully blown is worse than the hottest sun in a desert without a water bottle. Besides the woman if her marriage is certified can take you apart in court.”

“Do I look like a haggard?” she taunted Keandra.

Keandra at times spoke her mind while Karla was reserved choosing to keep her mouth shut instead of courting controversy. Karla like Keisha had big brownish eyes while Keandra tended to be smaller eyed. Height genes ran in the family. Keisha and Keandra took after their father by being broad and weighing well at the scales. The others sisters were tall and lean like their mother with a fast step and quick reflexes.

“You look ravishing, mature though with creases of worry on your fore head. The eyelashes are not really doing your light brown eyes justice. Maybe you and I should join the throng of women who fast and go to the mountains in Mount Hampden, Domboshawa or Bindura to go and pray against these spirits that inhibit marriage or that break marriages. It is better to go there than be a vow breaker taking someone’s husband. The fact that I married certifies that our family is marriage material. Dad had enough problems with his clan when all he had were girls. They suggested that he has a sidekick which he didn’t do thanks to church. That was one wedding for the family, we are still counting on three more.”

“The caretakers of such religious sites now know me by name and facial recognition. I even know the entrance fees and general directions to most of those sites. What I do not want is to stand before a prophet holding a cordless microphone broadcasting my dating failures to everyone via satellite be it DSTv, Kwese TV, OpenView or free-to-air methods.”

“Keisha on another note, my husband has been offered a position in Australia. I talked to you about this before. I didn’t like it too. The negotiations are at an advanced stage. They offer the whole family passage and relocation expenses/assistance. We need talk again, if he goes, so do I. If I go, I want you jumping into the pit with me. You are making great strides in business.”

“I know which means the interior décor partnership is a loose link. The only time I will go to Australia is when there is a different political party in Zimbabwe. Over my dead body rather. Do they have burial sites out there?” Keisha had Derrick laughing. “I know business is getting harder and harder here. The financial strain and lack of available cash resources added to which there is the world’s highest inflation rate is biting.”

“Sorry, a classmate was on the phone offering another international vacancy to apply to. I think Zimbabweans will be known as applicants for vacancies in China, South Korea, India, Dubai, USA you name it except the moon and outer space. Excuse me ladies, another call this time from my boss.”

“The economy is in free fall what with these economic suicidal experiments which are being made. You would think the false prophets are coming up with these shot in the foot type of programs. Indigenization and price control. What a way to choke the life out of the sneezing economy by allocating working industries to people or concerns without capital. When you set price control, you forget other parameters that are needed in the equation. The packaging for a product gets more expensive than the selling price of the product. Do these people think? The worst of these programs which are okayed by men with degrees is price control. A pip, a small plastic like my finger of a concentrate drink container costs more than the regulating drink selling price. These people are not serious.”

“What have false prophets to do with that?” asked Keandra.

“They meddle in all issues prophesying events in advance. They are trying to outwit each other in announcing that the president is immortal. I await the economic revival they have been talking about.”

“Consider flying after us and we can make do there. The economy here is a bit of a struggle. It is either you work for an NGO, gold or diamond concern or a blue chip company otherwise things are not well. Maybe some who are freelance like we have been making it. I am afraid of burn out. Other people out there are struggling for the dollar.”

“No ways will I leave home for overseas,” Keisha replied.

“I could do with a big sister there being the only blood relative.”

“Or a baby minder,” suggested Keisha. “I do note that you seem to be taking a lot of weight. You are likely to gain weight again once you are settled there as well. What is Derrick feeding you on?”

“Keisha!”

Keisha was not very fond of wedding festivities when her mind was stressed up. It reminded her of birthdays, funerals and anniversaries. Every wedding of someone younger than her seemed to certify that she was growing to be lonely. Family gatherings for occasions like parties, weddings and funerals always enlisted the horrible questions from relatives or friends/associates they hadn’t seen in some time. ‘You mean, you are still not yet married!’ That was as good as saying, ‘You mean you robbed a cripple and did time?’ Class and church mates had moved into the category while she remained single. There were people gifted with saying lurid jokes that hurt about a single person’s marital status.

These days of free speech she was not surprised to be used as an example of spinsterhood in public. When given to say speeches, she didn’t know why some people created horrid and foul tasting jokes. Like one relative had told a group of drinkers that she was on free offer. It was not enthusiastic to be asked, ‘how many children do you have?’ Then she would quip a response, ‘Sorry I am not even married’. ‘Boyfriend?’ ‘None whatsoever.’ ‘You must be the lying type groping other people’s husbands!’ Are you a lesbian? Even if you are, at least have a baby! [Would they vouch to look after it?] Everyone concentrated on false behaviour. They chose to remember the positive without telling the truth.

She was dressed in a purple and pink dress with gathered details flowing to below her knees. She wore black stilettos. There was a swish swash as she walked with the dress edges arriving before her if she turned. She had on a black hat during the heat of the day.

Now she sat in an easy steel framed chair, fully satisfied with the menu that had been on offer while watching and heeding the festivities coming from the grass thatched giant meeting place. Twice she had thought of just leaving for home to rest. She thought it was rude for someone entrusted with responsibilities to just vanish. There had been time she had felt sweat beads groping inside her dress. Now it was all right. The heat of the sun was hidden under the shade. They were calling out presents in between speeches. This was what made her sense their culture was still holding strong to wrong ideas.

Why was it necessary to announce in pubic that someone had a TV as a present? What if someone wanted to give $ 10.00? Their church youth had combined their offering to purchase a worthy present. What need was there for speeches when someone had married? After all when people married or died we did away with the bad things. Can you announce that the young man marrying was a favourite of the hookers in the hood? Before he became mature he had swindled every close relative of ours.

“Hello.”

That was very close to her ears. She turned. There was a man dressed in dark tan corduroy trousers with a tight fighting light blue t-shirt with the name of some airline. He had black shoes. He was holding a small electronic digital camera which he had been using. The camera was centred on her. One of his eyes was in the focus the other was closed. There was a little light blinking at the top. Come to think of it she had been in his focus. Her mind was far off she had not noticed. She remembered now seeing him stooping around her hide. She wasn’t alone, there were other people hiding from the sun under the tarpaulin. There was a flash. Camera persons were buzzing around the event like bees that had smelt sugary liquids.

“Hi, where are you coming from?” she asked. “I didn’t know they had allowed gate crashers in. Did you cheat your way through the gate?”

“Heard there was free food, dessert and drinks. Here I am. Where there is free food when the country is in drought recession I will make sure I don’t die of hunger. I am one of the villagers who chase after drought relief trucks.”

“All the way from Arusha to eat free offerings? Don’t they have rice and fried fish there?”

“They have fish like tilapia, Nile perch and catfish which is also present here. The Nile perch can grow as big as a junior school child. You want some, dried or freshly cooked?”

“Keith!”

“Don’t shout I will be chucked out. The last Arusha coach left fifteen minutes ago. I am representing East Africa and the Organization of African Union on the food queue. The Kenyan ambassador said I will represent him. That will help me get several servings.”

"Is it?"

Weddings were those places where you met relatives if the wedding party was related to you. If it was a church event, you were likely to meet church mates who had either moved to other branches or the so many sprouting churches in the neighbourhoods. It was not unusual to meet those that had retraced their steps away from church life. There was no ruling out meeting with weirdoes at weddings. Some people were given to being comics in public places. Others were given to embarrass themselves especially if they had alcoholic beverages free on offer.

“A friend invited me. He asked me to take a few photos especially of the wonderful garden. He is a major sponsor of my sport, you know what. They are running two gardens for wedding venues. How are you Keisha?”

“I have never been better. You have been gone like the Rhodesian flag last flown before March 29, 1980. You are now ancient like BOAC and its Viscount aircraft.”

“Oh, I thought I would have to introduce myself again for those with short memories. You have a habit of forgetting faces while I never. Remember you had lost me when I saw you in Johannesburg. Can I bring you a mineral drink?” he had read her mind.

“No thanks, I had my fill.”

“Ice cream?”

“If you insist with chocolate flavour,” she had replied. “Since when did you become a photographer?”

“It’s easy to learn the basics. I visit a lot of beaches in South Africa, Kenya, Tanzania or Mozambique including some great game reserves. It is always good to have and to know how to use a camera. There is nothing that draws attention to an article than stunning photographs. What keeps you glued to reading or hearing news are the visuals either still or video.”

“I do use the camera in my situations. I never thought you knew how to use one when in most cases you are the subject of focus when you are playing. I have seen dozens of your photos. But when you are in team gear it is hard to decipher since you will be wearing protective helmets like riot police in full combat. If there is an opening for riot police training I will let you know since you already know how to use their helmets!”

“I do a little bit.”

She threw one leg above the other watching the festivities again. She adjusted her clothing set up downwards to hide flesh that had become visible. Lions were prowling. The sun was almost setting. You never knew what would set off an alpha male. The major events of her church mate’s wedding were coming to a close. The only speech she wanted to hear was one extolling the youths to have honourable marriages and desist from sexual impurity. Here the church had raised two youths whose parents belonged to mainstream old style churches. The fact they had married within the church was encouragement to the rest including Keisha.

To her delight the mother of the groom thanked the youth ministry for raising her son. She applauded them for his change from youth to man within the confines of what custom and the churches believed in. She agreed she had been heartbroken when her son had selected a church different from their family heirloom. She praised their church leadership for their wisdom in dealing with other churches and not being confrontational.

“Here is your ice cream ma’am.”

“Thank you very much, Sir Keith.”

Keith took a chair and sat next to her. He had picked up a commercial version of a cone ice cream for her with toppings. He knew exactly what she had ordered the last time they had chatted at Roadport. He threw his foot over his leg. The coloured socks came into view. The shoe was a strap on ox hide in black. It was an expensive shoe. It showed that things might be shaping up for him. The trousers either were too tight fitting or too short, they left some bare patches.

“My pleasure ma’ am, don’t mention.”

“Keith, how was Tanzania and the general eastern seaboard of Africa?”

“It was fine. I upped the scales. I had some very competitive games there including several trips to South Africa by plane instead of the proverbial coach. In those days we first met I was stuck between a career and playing cricket. At times I did odd jobs. I trained as a motor mechanic, diesel at Andrews College near Kopje. I increased my diesel training part time weekends in Durban with the possibility I may leave the bat. Now it's all playing, hoping I don’t go out for a duck. I have a franchise to play at the Shajar Cup which is in the Middle East. I am not sure of the dates offhand. I penned the contract for about five matches.”

“Okay, that is in the Emirates if I am not mistaken. It is a money spinning venture to be called there. There is a local groom who now rides horses in the Middle East. He is making quite some life I tell you."

"All I want is a better life line to what the local environs offer. I think I have tried the region. Fingers tightly crossed, it's international now. Sports people retire early. We need early breaks into the money leagues to survive. Good thing done by your church mates.”

“How did you know?”

“My friend knows you from the youth league. Where is Keandra?”

“She is in Perth, Western Australia.”

“Wow! She didn’t suggest so on her Facebook® page. The beach and sea scenes I thought they were South Africa with its litany of available port cities. You name it, Cape Town, East London, Durban and the works.”

“She has been gone almost seven months. I guess she has settled down now.”

“And Karla?”

She didn’t explain that Karla had married. She had followed her husband to the windiest part of South Africa. The name West Indies should have originated from Cape Town as West Windies. Somehow it had become corrupted. She guessed given the correct resources, Cape Town was a wonderful place to live. Every city was good if you stayed out of the crime riddled or poorest sections. It was good if you didn’t survive mouth to mouth. Foreign cities were okay if you had medical cover in case you fell ill. And a good way to make a living.

“She is in Cape Town,” Keisha had replied. “So when are you going to the Middle East?”

“In about a few weeks’ time. Karla is enjoying all the good grapes, real unfermented grape juice and table wine while I have to import them. If she allows the Afrikaner diets to charm her, she will be out of step with weight. I have been there. It is a good place, the Western Cape. The cost of living where I spent a few weeks on the game require a permanent work contract otherwise it's great.”

“So your game is now local?”

“No, it is like winning the Zimbabwe Tennis Open then going for a bigger cup and richer tournament. You cannot come back downwards. It is like playing in the English first division then coming back home to try your chances. It is anathema. Have you ever seen a teacher trained here who starts teaching in United Kingdom coming back to teach in the rural areas? Exceptions are if they got deported or politically brainwashed. Nada, that is the opposite. Once you stay on higher grounds. It is like winning the tennis championship at Zimbabwe Tennis Open or the golf tourney Golf Open then you go to Wimbledon or St. Andrews, you can’t crawl back.”

“I didn’t rate it in those terms. Obviously we have less to offer in terms of incentives than the regional or international stages. If we had resources we would offer the equivalent of the Dunhill cup here on the local arena. ”

“I will be in Namibia before I cross over for about some weeks to Shajar tournament. I need face to face sight-seeing of my elder and only sibling brother I have. I was his only competitor for our parents' honours. He married and paraded his Tswana wife while I was away. I guess your numbers have changed?”

“I still use the same landline, cell phone numbers and the same social media networks,” she had replied. “I do not change because customers can come after a few years break searching for services. Friends and relatives go AWOL then back again to contact you with the latest changes to their lives.”

“I will certainly keep in touch Keisha.”

They talked about the wedding and other issues. She bade him good bye around 1740hrs. While she was busy loading her church mates into her vehicle he was getting into a 32-seat Yutong heading out of the wedding venue. She had a load of seven. Though the vehicle had seven legal seats, the traffic authorities considered such a load pirating. They could give her fines for anything including an indicator light. These fines were more than she could collect from the passengers no matter their fare.

© Copyright tmagorimbo July 2017