Tsitsi come back from the kitchen eating bread and baked beans. She start to talk about the rat that have been eating food in the kitchen, how it get she head out of gear, the rat manage to do it even if she put the food on the highest shelf in the kitchen; the following day she find it have been nibbled.
I don't have answers for these questions so I give she them one-word answers and small grunts and try to sew while she go yep yep yep yep. She is now sitting in funny cross-legged way on bed, with she pointy breasts jumping out at me and she have no idea that this kind of sitting can give people funny ideas. But it don't do nothing to me because me I am not civilian person but military person. Tsitsi, she is just rural mother. She is also just one small child. I don't need to worry about Tsitsi. Me I am not civilian.
Chirac is civilian person and have this tree growing out of his head making him not able to see where he is putting his foot. Fix him up with this rural thing maybe he can also drop me cigarette pocket money. It don't matter that he still have not buy the French passport. But Shingi is scared of Aleck because he is still not good at defending himself if someone start to accuse him of leading the child, Tsitsi, astray. Even at school, after Thoko beat him up, Shingi still don't know how to fight for himself. Even when I'm trying to teach him every week at school. His stepbrother Chamu, who is one year ahead of us, also try to teach him how to fight because Chamu is not always there to protect him, but that never work. Only one time in his life Shingi have stand up for himself and that was the last time. That was few years after we leave school for ever. Shingi have got graft as tea boy at Central African Pharmaceutical Society (CAPS) and for some funny reason he spill tea on company's biggest boss and his big visitor; the whole teapot splash all over the big man's desk and trousers. His visitor's trousers too. And important papers. Everything get wet and this is big mess-up and of course if you do big mess-up you get fired. One week after he have been fired them people at the local beer hall start throwing that usual mouth about: oh poor Shingi; the winds that he get from his father now giving him bad luck; yeee he will never have steady life; yeee maybe he don't get fired because of tea but because of all that liquid paraffin he thief. People was saying that because Shingi had also start to sell liquid paraffin that he bring from CAPS. No one know how he get it, but he get it and people like to use it on they skin.
Then when Shingi come to the beer hall after losing graft someone make big mistake of making fun of him by saying now that he have no more liquid paraffin, maybe his family going to start using cooking oil on they skin. Because he don't do talk, Shingi jump into this style of big quiet vex. Now everyone start going kak kak kak and Shingi don't know how to deal with this and soon pull out of his pocket the oldest style in the book; you know how someone get upset by someone but they don't know how to deal with it except to play out they is now possessed by old family spirit. Shingi groan, spit and growl until them veins in his neck writhe under the skin like fat worms, and the guy that make fun of Shingi is still laughing because he think this is big pretence. But before he know it Shingi have pick up half brick and hit him square on his face.
Shingi spend six months in prison for that but when he come out he have change style of talking and now don't say even one word more than is necessary if he is talking to you; no one want to throw they mouth around in front of him now because they know he can waste your face if you hassle him.
But this is Harare North and people change back into they old self here.
I finish sewing my button on and decide to do them others that look like they is wanting to fall too. Then Tsitsi go to kitchen again to make milk for baby. She shout from the kitchen asking again if me I am hungry.
What you going to say if Aleck find out you been giving me food? I shout back. She don't answer. This is food that Aleck have buy, but that's not the problem. Tsitsi have also been worryful that they is not going to have enough food this week because Aleck have send heap of money back home to pay for some stand in Highfield township. £1,000, that's what he wire back for the stand. US$1,910. But it hit his pocket hard because now every food item that he and Tsitsi buy have already get affected except the old bread and beans which everyone is tired of. Meat is already out of the shopping list that week and Tsitsi worryful she is becoming big burden on Aleck now. But maybe Aleck don't worry too much because now Tsitsi have start to bring in small money by going out to the salon; MaiMusindo and them other women is helping she rent out the baby to other women that want to apply for council flats as single mothers. For £50, any woman can take Tsitsi's baby to the Lambeth Housing Department and play out to be single mother, fill them forms and take baby back to salon as soon as she have been interview.
I finish sewing the buttons and I am putting my needle and thread back inside my suitcase and Tsitsi is again sitting in crazy rural way – crouching in front of me in she lopsided skirt that is full of lint, bobbles and all the fluff. She is feeding milk to she baby.
You can sometimes go through life and never get laid. That's Shingi. He never get over the fear of girls that Thoko put inside him since we was at school and end up only trying to make people laugh. I know of people who have pay up heaps of money to lose they virginity. Like the blind singer in Harare that end up paying US$200 for people to organise him woman.
But I have not even have chance to talk to Shingi and things happen fast. The cigarette-biting people – they exorcise Chirac out of the native without no warning. Just like that.
During graft, Shingi and his friends have always been digging out heaps of them drainpipes, repair some, lay new ones and getting used to crawling in them dark holes to clear them blocked drains. Always with long rope tied to foot in case you get overcome down there and pass out in the slurry, mud and poo. Now they get frogmarched out of the site by hard men holding scaffold poles. They have been forced back into they original native selfs again. And it's all because they have been talk talk talk too much about them French passports until someone hear of it and sell them out. Cigarette-biting people don't trust none of them now because they think one of them tip them immigration people. President Chirac vanish. Now the original native appear again.
Because this is Shingi, and you know what Shingi is like, it take him days to come out and tell what happen. After all them squiggly dances and talk of hitting French food he feel embarrassed now to tell us that he have lose his graft. Me I knew this was going to happen. But me I don't want to talk; I throw away my straw broom long time ago and leave the zongororo to do what it want.
On this day when Tsitsi have spend all afternoon sitting in front of me in that crazy way, that's when Shingi's story come out. I am still talking to she thinking that Shingi have go to graft but he only have go for graft hunt without telling no one. He have been doing this style for days, now it come out. Now he arrive pushing this face that is as long as shield of Matabele warrior.
Where have you abandon your spear and knobkerrie and do you know that this is one offence that is punished by death if you had live during time of Mfecane? That's the first question you want to ask when you see someone carrying that face. But Shingi don't look like he is in mood for jokes so I say nothing.
We have not even start starving but his face already look thin and his lips dry and cracked; now his teethies suddenly is crowded inside his mouth. He have come straight inside house, remove his dirty boots and disappear inside the bathroom to have shower. Tsitsi take she baby upstairs and leave us alone.
All that time I don't know what this Shingi thing is all about but can sniff sniff that this have something to do with his graft.
Now I have to do something to make Shingi feel better. I open my suitcase, take out my screwdriver, grab some old newspaper and Shingi's boots, and I start to scrap the mud off. I do this for ages but Shingi don't come out to see. Then me I get tired, put the screwdriver back inside my suitcase, wrap up the dirt and throw it in the bin outside.
Now I hear him coming. Me I jump off my suitcase and go to the kitchen
to make him coffee. When I walk back, he is sitting still. I hold out the cup of coffee to him and he ask me to put it down on the floor next to his feeties. I have forget to buy milk, so the coffee that I make him has black and shiny metallic surface like used engine oil. I sit down on my suitcase and watch him. He have trace of sneer on corner of his nose.
He never touch the coffee but only thumb his nose once and lie down on the bed.
Shingi only start to talk the following day. Now he tell how cigarette-biting foreman march them out because someone sell them out to immigration people and there is going to be some raid soon. One of the foreman's people have dog and when Shingi try to explain that he have proper papers the man don't listen and nearly let they dog loose on him. Shingi is in big trauma; even today when I ask him what kind of dog this was, he only say it have very big mouth. This kind of end have been easy to see for everyone but Shingi.
In the evening when Farayi and Aleck come from graft, Farayi sympathise big time with Shingi. But head boy Aleck not very impressed about all this. He is worried for his rent money.
8
'BBC graft for £8 per hour. Immediate start, and it's in Croydon.' That's what Aleck tell us. He is trying hard to head us in BBC direction and Shingi is drooling now.
'The fly that land on dollop of poo is the lucky one,' I tell Aleck. 'The one that land on honey is in big trouble. That's the tricky thing about living in Harare North. But some of us, we have to ask the question: you want to do something – what is better, to try doing it your own way and risk finding small success, or to do it in undignified pooful way and find big success?'
Both Shingi and Aleck get the score quick and stop all this BBC talk. Me I am principled man.
The Savoy Hotel, the Ritz Hotel, myhotel Chelsea, Crowne Plaza Shoreditch and Westbury Hotel. That's the list of hotels that I plan to mau-mau. But Shingi don't have ginger for talking this. Me I think maybe it's time to cook supper for him.
In the fridge there is still some of the beefsteak that Shingi have buy on his way from work some few days before. Like usual, I take my screwdriver out of my suitcase to use it to make steak tender before cooking. I pound the meat with the screwdriver's heavy handle and after that I stab stab stab the steak with the other end of the screwdriver.
Then I fry it nice. I also make vegetable relish and when I lick the wooden spoon me I know this is number-one stuff. While all this is getting ready I decide to cook bit of rice but I cannot use our pot because it get burnt in the morning and so have dark layer of porridge at the bottom. The worst thing you can do is use burnt porridge pot because whatever you cook inside it start to smell of black porridge and no one want to eat it. Instead of rice, I cut some bread for us and take it to our room where we eat silent.
We have not yet find mattress in them rubbish skips for me, so I lie beside Shingi in bed because he share his bed with me.
I try to light up the mood by making joke about how if the cigarette-biting man run rings around Chirac's head like that, maybe Chirac was fake Frenchman. Big mistake. Shingi blow his top off and tell me to start bringing in money for food and rent instead of sit on my tail all day and only waiting to crack jokes, play food games with him and pretending I possess him.
Now we stop all them jokes and food games. Even when I know I still possess him.
Food is tricky subject; things get funny over it. Even before Shingi lose his graft, food sometimes make conversation funny. And that's not only with me but also Aleck, Tsitsi and Farayi. But that's not big surprise to me. Or even Shingi. The two of us have had chance of witnessing them troubles that food can cause from long time.
One morning I get shocked to find that Shingi's bearded mother, MaiShingi, is involved in fight with she new husband over bread. MaiShingi's husband is about to go to his graft as commuter bus conductor, and she is getting ready for she day. She do people's hair from home and one customer have already arrive wanting to have she hair straightened.
I am waiting for Shingi and his stepbrother Chamu to finish eating they porridge so we can go to school together when Shingi's stepfather, in his blue uniform, order his wife to cut him two slices of bread while he get dressed. He dash through the lounge as he say this.
'What?' MaiShingi clap she hands in big surprise to show this is bad bad omen. 'Me slicing bread for you?' she bawl. She can be proper fishwife sometimes.
Now, she husband is stunned and don't know what style he have been hit with. He is not sure what to do in the front of MaiShingi's customer who is sitting in the lounge, pretending to peel off nail polish from she fingernails because she is stewing up in unease. And the lounge, which is also hair salon and always filled with smells of burnt hair and chemicals, now also have the new smell of food quarrel.
'Aah, MaiShingi?' he try to warn she, but MaiShingi don't bother answering; she pick she new shaver from the table and disappear into the bathroom. Now anyone can sniff sniff that MaiShingi's husband is going to be worryful all day if peace is ever possible inside house that have two people who shave beard every morning. That's the kind of thing food quarrel can do and complicate everything. People always fight over food; if it is scarce they fight over them crumbs, and if there's enough of it, people fight over who get to put it on the plate and for who. And if there's just too much of it, people bawl horror and want to fight them supermarkets for trying to fatten them.
The problem is that disagreement over food always end up with innocent people hurt. Food arguments don't fail to have victim. Shingi's stepfather, after the fight with wife, he run off to work with big vex on his face. That day, all them fare dodgers and poor mothers that rely on begging for conductors' kindness to have free ride with they children is in for big shock, me I know straight away.
That's food. So when food talk make Shingi sore like that, I step with care.
* * *
Me I wake up, I get up, I get clothed, I tie my shoelaces and step off out of the house. You can't mau-mau like hungry man when you have got full stomach, so I don't eat nothing that morning.
Money is like termite. The more desire you have to catch it, the more you scare it down into its hole. You don't try to catch it by its head, but let it crawl out of the hole first. That's what I'm reasoning as I walk down Brixton Road. You have to have big patient style with these things.
Then there is this news–animal that follow your every step from Zimbabwe, hiding in the dark tailwinds behind you. You can't see it but only hear its footsteps; you stop, the footsteps stop, you walk and you hear them footsteps again. All the news of emeralds or diamonds and the government wanting to take Mother's village – is this propaganda or what? You have to catch the termite before this thing come out for you, that's the catch. Otherwise it scatter your mind all over like leafs at the mercy of the winds and you lose what you believe in and have no weapon to fight with. Then you never get out of Harare North.
Today I have to find hotel to mau-mau. When I leave the house Shingi is still in funny mood and say he have headache. I offer him cigarette but he just shake his head tight. He is making big play out of studying ceiling, clearing his throat and swallowing all the time like he want to say something but he never do. Me I leave him alone.
Farayi and Aleck have already go to graft and Tsitsi have again go to rent she baby at the hair salon.
As I'm stepping off down them pavements and reasoning me I don't know that by the time I come back in the evening I will find that there's also now some Judas inside our house. Someone have been going through my suitcase I can tell straight away; they have leave my screwdriver pointing to the opposite way from how I leave it. I forget to lock it before I leave. Someone have sniff sniff and look inside my suitcase and they even thief my US$9.55. You can take the money but don't look inside my suitcase.
Me I am not civilian person; so I don't go paparapapara panicking. The past always give you the tools to handle the present. Add small bit of crooked touch to what you do and everyone soon get startled into silence and start pay
ing proper attention and respect to you. Every jackal boy know that style; drop in crazy laughter in some crazy place during interrogation and any traitor will listen up. It's not accident that 'skill' and 'slaughter' start with a crooked letter. Every jackal boy know that too. Remove the crooked touch from each of them those two words and suddenly you kill laughter.
When I come back from mau-mauing hotels, Shingi start drinking that old brandy he buy last month. Aleck is in the shower and Tsitsi and Farayi is cooking in the kitchen.
I don't want to talk to no one about my day. I have spend all day looking for hotel and can't find nothing because they is hidden. I only hit one hotel after I see one man that look like he's from Saudi Arabia going inside. I step inside the hotel and I know straight away that this is visited only by quality people that only poo pure strawberries and fresh cream. There is one beautiful woman being helped at the reception. Me I'm still looking at this beautiful thing and suddenly I don't know what happen next because before I even know it two fat bouncers in uniform have throw me out onto the street. It happen so fast, I am stunned. Maybe they even hit me on the head with some frying pan or something because my head still feel dizzy now. But now look what I find inside our house?
Everyone say they never touch my suitcase and Shingi say he don't see nothing all afternoon. Because the person that look inside my suitcase did not search the bottom, me I don't want to push it.
Before we go to bed Shingi is drunk now in pathetic way. He get up from the bed and go to kitchen and stagger about in very careless way. Then he make mistake of dragging his foot on board that is loose and some funny noise come out of his mouth. He limp back and collapse down on mattress. It's one big splinter, one centimetre or more into his foot.
Harare North Page 6