The Hairdresser of Harare

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The Hairdresser of Harare Page 13

by Tendai Huchu


  ‘It’s not fair for you to sleep on that hard floor.’

  He got up, grateful that he didn’t have to, and lay beside me. I had to tell him what had happened to me in the past — a secret that I had carried with me for a very long time. I figured that if there was anyone I could tell it to, it was Dumi.

  I spoke very slowly because it is hard to let words out that you have kept in a safe for so long. ‘Phillip raped me. That’s how I got pregnant with Chiwoniso. What’s wrong with men? I stayed with him because I loved him despite the fact that he hurt me. I thought maybe it was my fault for not doing what he wanted in the first place… ’ I could not speak anymore.

  ‘It’s not your fault. I’m here to protect you now.’ I felt him tremble with emotion as he held me close, as if he wanted to take the pain away. He held me the whole night and never let go. I had never felt safer in a man’s arms.

  In the morning we took a stroll down to the falls. I felt a spiritual renewal and joy that I didn’t know existed. We passed through the rain forest — was it the only forest in the world that was sustained by spray? We felt it all over our bodies as we walked, delicious and cooling at first, and then I realised that we were going to get very wet, as if we’d been drenched in a storm. What the hell, I thought, we’ll dry off. Dumi pointed out various species of plants that were found nowhere else in the country. The roar of the water grew louder with each step we took.

  ‘The correct name for it is Mosi-oa-Tunya, the smoke that thunders.’ Dumi enjoyed playing the role of tour guide. ‘The whites even tried to claim that David Livingstone discovered it because the locals were too afraid to come near it. It’s strange how they also include the fact that the locals showed it to him. That’s a paradox only a colonial mind can maintain.’

  The falls appeared before us in all their glory. Water cascaded down the gorge and sprayed up with the might of God’s power. There are many of us who’ve died without seeing this wonder of wonders in our own country. A rainbow arched across the waterfalls as surely as it had done since the day Noah’s ark set down on dry land.

  ‘If the water falls and there are no tourists to hear it, does it make a sound?’ Dumi asked.

  I laughed.

  Twenty seven

  Mrs Khumalo had outdone herself. The new salon building was completed on schedule. The front wall had been knocked down and replaced by a glass front with large sliding doors. Charlie Boy’s barbershop now had its own separate glass partition. He began to say ‘step into my office’ to each client who came in to see him. The walls were painted glossy white and she had mirrors placed all round the room. Of course the posters remained but I was happy to see that the condom adverts had now been relegated to the cash desk. The exterior had been painted pink with a new neon sign that worked when we had electricity.

  On the management side, Dumi excelled and I saw why Mrs Khumalo had picked him. He brought in extra staff and created a rota so that we didn’t have to work seven days a week. I never got to meet the new girls he hired because of my schedule but I heard they were as good as the rest of us. Even Agnes seemed more amiable at times. It was as if a new wave of optimism had struck us and we’d become like one big happy family. Mrs Khumalo even spoke of opening a new branch somewhere in the city centre. Perhaps I would be manager there if that happened.

  The planets had converged and I felt happy. I went into work with a smile and left with an even bigger smile. At home I was happier too. I would get up in the morning and see Dumi at the breakfast table with Chiwoniso. We now worked different shifts because of the new rota and so we only ever worked three shifts out of five together. In the evenings Dumi would help her with her homework while I watched soaps on TV.

  ‘I wish I could introduce you to my parents,’ I said to him one night when we were alone in the lounge.

  ‘Give it time. These things have a way of sorting themselves out. The family will want you back again once bruised egos heal.’

  ‘They’re really nice people. It’s just this one issue we can’t seem to get around. I want to introduce you to my brother, Fungai, though.’

  ‘The mad philosopher.’

  ‘Don’t call him that.’ Even though it had been said in jest I found myself slightly annoyed.

  Dumi rubbed my arm and apologised. He knew how protective I had become of the one family member who still spoke to me. I lay my head on his shoulder and smelt the cologne on him, a scent that lingered. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  ‘Feeling sleepy?’

  ‘Just a little. You’re lucky you don’t have to go to work tomorrow.’

  ‘Poor thing.’

  ‘I have half a mind to change the rota so you go instead of me.’

  That night I lay in bed unable to sleep. A yearning that I had not felt for a long time returned to me. I felt whole like a woman again. I went to the bathroom and washed my face then changed into my red nightdress with thin straps that made me look curvy. There was a small part of my mind telling me that this was the right thing to do. Tonight was the night.

  I walked barefoot and stood outside the door to Dumi’s room. I took a deep breath and willed myself to knock, but I couldn’t. My hand was raised but it refused to go any further. What if he was fast asleep? I stood like that for an eternity before I had the courage to knock lightly three times.

  ‘Come in.’ Dumi did not sound drowsy.

  I walked in and stood at the foot of the bed. Dumi looked at me, his eyes quickly devoured my body before he turned them modestly away. I felt a slight tremor pass through me and then I crawled onto the bed, moving up until I straddled him. I could feel him shaking beneath me. Was it passion or was I seeing him unnerved for the first time?

  ‘Hello,’ he said, in a timid voice much like a mouse squeak.

  ‘Hello.’ My own voice was slightly hoarse. I caressed his chest and began to kiss his abs. His perfect torso shivered with every touch. I ran my tongue over his belly button and slowly moved up to his chest. I could feel his heart pounding beneath me. His skin was soft but his muscles were rock solid. I kissed his neck and could feel a slight stubble. His hands lay flaccid beside him as if he did not know what to do. I took them and guided him towards me. My breathing grew louder and louder. I could hear it in my ears. There was a fire burning through me, which I’d never felt for any man before.

  But Dumi tensed when I kissed his lips.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Kiss me, don’t be scared.’

  We kissed and his lips felt tender. I was aching for him, desperate to have him make love to me. When I tried to pull his pants off, he said, ‘Stop.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘We mustn’t.’ Was he teasing me?

  ‘It’s alright.’ I kissed him.

  ‘We can’t do this.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’

  ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘Then tell me what it is.’

  Maybe he didn’t find me attractive. He hadn’t given me that impression. Had I moved too quickly? What if he thought I was a whore? Thoughts ran through my mind. I needed to understand why he was rejecting me.

  ‘I really like you, but I think we should wait. One day we will get married and I want everything to be perfect. I’ve never slept with a woman. It’s old-fashioned, I guess, but it is the right way to do things.’

  That night I lay in his arms with my mind swirling. Dumi was a rare find, a man for whom sex was not the only thing. I could hardly believe it. A man as attractive as Dumi, with all his connections and opportunities, a virile young man of twenty-two… I closed my eyes remembering how he had mentioned marriage. I knew I’d waited my whole life to find someone I could give myself to, so it didn’t matter if I had to wait just a little longer.

  When I woke up, Dumi had snuck off to work. I imagine he must have planted a kiss on my cheek before he left. Maidei gave me a suggestive look when I left his room that morning. One woman to another saying, ‘Y
ou got lucky’. I sort of had, in a way. I ate my breakfast and sat down to watch another boring talk-show on morning TV. Maidei swept the house stealing glances at me whenever she could. I felt happy.

  A car pulled up outside the gate and hooted. I sent Maidei to see who it was. She came back running. It was Phillip. I sent her back to tell him to go away. She soon returned saying that he insisted he needed to speak with me. The idea of using my house-girl as a go-between did not appeal to me, so I put on my morning gown and went down to the gate.

  ‘Have you come to break more windows?’ I said in the most hostile voice I could muster.

  ‘Hi, Vimbai. I came to see you. I needed to apologise about what happened at the wedding. I was out of order.’ His voice was low and sounded awkward because he was trying his best not to show his still missing teeth. I wondered why on earth he had not got them fixed. He could afford to.

  ‘You’ve made your apology, now go away.’

  ‘I brought you some groceries.’ It had been a long time since he had done that for me.

  ‘I don’t need your groceries or anything else from you.’

  ‘There are toys in there that I bought for Chiwoniso. Please, at least accept these for her sake.’

  ‘You gave up your responsibilities towards your daughter a long time ago. We need nothing from you. If this was all you wanted then I think it is time for you to leave.’

  ‘You have never spoken to me like this before.’ His voice registered shock, which quickly turned to menace. ‘That boy you’re seeing, does he know whose daughter Chiwoniso is?’

  ‘I don’t keep dirty secrets like you. He knows and he also knows what you did to me. If you ever come back here again you will lose the rest of your teeth. I hope I am making myself clear.’

  I left him there by the gate. He lingered for a while and drove off. Coming to terms with my past was more empowering than I’d ever imagined it could be.

  Twenty eight

  The day before my birthday, six months after Dumi had first walked into my life, I worked a half-day and he arranged the following day off for both of us so we could celebrate as a family. Yolanda gave me a card she had made herself. For a moment, I wished I was her age again, carefree and in the prime of youth — though, come to think of it, when had I ever been carefree? When had any young people with my background?

  The months had rolled by in easy succession. Dumi was thoroughly domesticated and spent most of his days with Chiwoniso and me. It was nice to have the house to myself when, once a fortnight or so, he would vanish to do his own thing. On such days, the first thing he did when he came back would be hunt around the house until he found Chiwoniso and give her a treat. Come December, Dumi would be off to the UK for his holidays. I had my passport but no desire to go with him, since Mrs Ncube had tempted me with the offer to join the family over Christmas.

  A familiar Benz pulled up the driveway but it was not the minister who was in it but her husband, who entered the salon looking very unsure of himself. He’d left the engine running and kept glancing back at the car as if to comfort himself that he could make a quick getaway if need be.

  ‘Mr M___, how good to see you. Have you come for a haircut?’ Dumi asked, eager to serve the man who’d saved him.

  ‘Not at all, young man. At my age looking stylish is not a preoccupation. I want to arrange something for the missus. Our wedding anniversary is just around the corner and… well, you know how women like to be pampered. I was hoping there might be something special you could do for her.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘I don’t know, perhaps you could suggest something for me.’

  Dumisani rubbed his chin. He was a man who knew how to pamper a woman and so we pricked up our ears waiting to hear what he would suggest.

  ‘What day is the anniversary?’

  ‘Tenth of December. That’s when I signed away my independence.’ Mr M___ gave a wimpish snigger and then tried to regain his composure as no one laughed.

  ‘We need to do something more than her hair. Tell you what, book her in for three hours; we’ll do her hair, give her a facial, pedicure, manicure and an Indian head massage. It will give this salon a chance to branch out into beauty therapy.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean by all these things, just tell me how much it will cost.’

  ‘We’ll have to charge you on the day because anything you give us now will be worthless by then.’

  ‘You’re right, of course.’

  ‘Let me take down your cell number just in case we need to talk beforehand.’

  The look they exchanged as they took each other’s cellphone numbers seemed odd to me, and if I hadn’t known Dumi, it seemed a guilty one. Mr M___ had to repeat his twice as he seemed so nervous. Men nearly always felt uncomfortable in the very female atmosphere of a salon, but still his demeanour struck me as a little bizarre — he had been, after all, an intrepid guerrilla fighter.

  We spent that night at the Ncubes’ mansion. Lately, we were spending more time there. Chiwoniso loved it because of the swimming pool and because they all doted on her. She even began to call the Ncubes sekuru and gogo, grandpa and grandma. This pleased them no end and Mr Ncube took walks with her round the garden whenever he was not at work. Mrs Ncube tried to teach her to knit, a disastrous experiment that left the house with strands of wool everywhere.

  Michelle was hopping about the place and told me I had a big surprise waiting for my birthday. At dinner I could see that she and her mother were dying to give me hints but could not because every time they looked as if they might, Mr Ncube coughed loudly and cleared his throat. When I went to bed that night Dumi came in and read me a bedtime story. It was called ‘A Kiss For Little Bear’ by Else Holmelund Minarik, Chiwoniso’s favourite, or so he told me. I could not sleep trying to figure out what it was they might have planned for me. I knew that whatever it was, I would never have enjoyed a day like it. They didn’t know that this was the first time in my adult life that anyone had bothered to do something for me on my birthday.

  ‘Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!’ Michelle shouted, waking me with a start. She jumped on the bed and landed next to me with a bump. ‘You’re always the first up, what’s wrong with you today?’

  ‘I couldn’t get to sleep last night.’

  ‘Age is catching up with you. Look, there are even lines under your eyes. How gross!’

  ‘I’m still only twenty-six.’

  ‘Leave her alone.’ Dumi walked in with a tray. He’d made me breakfast in bed. ‘Happy birthday.’ He kissed me.

  ‘Thanks, you really shouldn’t have. Where’s Chiwoniso?’

  ‘I’ve taken her to school already, we didn’t want to wake you. Dumi, can you bring me some breakfast as well?’

  ‘Get your own.’ He fled from the room.

  I ate my breakfast and Michelle joined me. In fact, she ate most of it. I couldn’t keep up with her. Somehow she managed to eat, chew, swallow and talk at the same time. There was a knock on the door and she answered. Mr and Mrs Ncube came in in their pyjamas.

  ‘Happy birthday, muroora,’ they said in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it.

  ‘Maita henyu.’ I clapped my hands.

  ‘Finish your breakfast, we have to go to your surprise.’

  They left me with Michelle, but try as I might I could not extract the secret from her. She shut her eyes tightly, ran her hand across her mouth to zip it and threw away an imaginary key.

  ‘They will kill me if I tell you,’ she said soon after that.

  ‘Hey, your mouth is zipped up,’

  ‘It’s a magic zip that only allows me to say certain things.’

  After my shower I was blindfolded and led to the car. Dumi guided my every step making sure I did not bump into anything. I sat in the Merc feeling every bump and turn but unsure of where we were going. We could have been driving in circles for all I knew.

  ‘My witchdoctor told me that if I want my businesses to prosper,
I need to bring him some human body parts, so he can make me some muti,’ Mr Ncube said with a sinister laugh.

  ‘We’re going to turn you into mince-meat!’ echoed Michelle.

  ‘Stop scaring my poor muroora,’ said Mrs Ncube firmly.

  ‘We’re only kidding,’ Michelle said, pretending to be hurt.

  ‘But this girl would make good muti,’ Mr Ncube pleaded, in the same pretend voice he used for Chiwoniso.

  ‘Thank God we’ve arrived,’ Mrs Ncube said.

  Dumi opened the passenger door and guided me out of the car. I could hear the sound of cars so I knew we were still in the city, and I could hear the footfall of pedestrians. I walked slowly with fearful steps. I wasn’t afraid of hurting myself if I fell down, it was the embarrassment of falling in a public place that worried me.

  ‘Mind, we’re going up a pavement,’ Dumi said. I negotiated the step and felt people brush past my shoulder. They must have wondered what this silly girl was doing with a blindfold on in the middle of the morning. We went up a couple of stairs and then back down again. I was feeling more and more disoriented. The buzz around us told me we were in a very busy place, but beyond that I could not make anything out except the delicious smell of freshly baked bread. It took me back to the days when Aroma used to sell fresh bread in Budiriro. Real bread made of flour and not the current stuff that was supplemented by maize meal, tasted vile and crumbled in your hands.

  ‘Almost there now,’ Dumi said, his voice excited. Michelle had been talking non-stop to a point where none of us really heard her anymore. She didn’t seem to mind when we didn’t respond, and kept on regardless.

  ‘Here we are. Remove the blindfold.’ Mr Ncube spoke in a boisterous voice as if he wanted the people going past to notice us.

  The blindfold was gently removed. I opened my eyes and squinted to adjust to the light. I stood in a large empty shop with a large glass front. I looked left and right — nothing seemed familiar, and there was the sharp smell of paint.

 

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