THIS IS LIFE

By Susan Mwape and Nancy Handabile Speed dating, the internet, cosmopolitan (both the drink and lifestyle) make being a single lady in the 21 st Century a daunting feat. Half the time one walks the street or even sits in a plush and not so plush joint, conversation revolves around hubby this, dude that, my ex here bleh bleh bleh …. The talk goes on and don’t forget the; when are you getting married eyebrow raises (que in shot if tequila gold or sour apple). Everyone from your mother, grandmother, hairstylist, maid and the lady who sells chikanda wants you to be wed, and nicely (maybe they don’t even care if it’s that nice) tucked with a hubby by your side!!!!! A drive around the city on Friday (sometimes even from Monday) through Sunday is usually basked in sounds of hooters, cars nicely wrapped in ribbons (forget the toilet paper aka tissue especially now with the rains) of all colours, pretty ladies glittering often in shiny brightly coloured satin dresses (in awfu

Often after the hustle and buzz of life comes to a halt, mostly when am all alone, the silence creeps in and it’s to real to pretend, I worry about myself. I worry about my sanity, about the decisions I make and have made in the past. I wonder if I have faith in things, things like love...  Life Offers Various Experiences (LOVE) is what a friend of my says about love. I know about betrayal and how it can permanently scare the pure element of faith in people. I know all about pain because in as much as we think of it most as physical and can monitor the physical pain heal, emotional pain is worse. I know how consuming anger can be I have been there but love, love and the things love does to people... I know all this because I have been through it; I have felt it all, known it to its depth and most importantly survived it. And yet am still uncertain as to whether I can comprehend love, the one thing that most people base their relationships. I have come to the realisation that

In the hood, Maybin had been known as the man who had a slight limp and struggled to walk. The circumstances under which Maybin developed this condition were a never openly discussed but everyone gossiped and knew what had happened for juicy stories like that of Maybin’s plight travel faster than wild fire in the hood. Maybin was a fine but fierce looking young man whose profession was known by everybody including the young ones. He was Thief. The types that went out on rackets and stole big time stuff, not just a minor pick pockets or petty thieves. One day Maybin and his crew went to steal in town near Stanley Bar area but unfortunately he was caught. While his friends escaped within a whisky, he was beaten and tortured which led to the paralysis of his legs. As a cripple, Maybin seemed to have changed his ways. He was religiously taking his medication, going for physiotherapy and playing with the kids in the hood. They all loved him even their mothers seemed to warm up t

It was a Monday morning around 07:00am when Banakulu (Grandmother) was seen in the hood slowly making her way to her tenants. Banakulu was a 68 year old woman who owned a house in the hood and lived in a different area. She usually sent here grand children to collect the rentals for her every moth. Everyone in the hood knows that when Banakulu shows face it meant only one thing, her tenants had not paid rentals and things would definitely go sour if they did not pay. As Banakulu approached her house, word had gone around like bushfire that Banakulu was in the area and everyone should brace themselves. Everyone started loitering outside their yards whilst trying hard to act busy and not look obvious that they were waiting to see what would happen next.  Even though news of Banakulu’s arrival in the hood spread at lightening speed it did not get to Bana Kasakula’s house fast enough for her to “take cover”. Banakulu with a stern expression walked straight to Bana Kasakula’s hous

In its normal dramatic style the hood came to life, characterized by the young ones all running towards one direction and the adults walking hurriedly towards the same directions. This meant only one thing to get up and run towards the same direction. In my hood it doesn’t matter what it is people just follow everyone without asking questions, one decides whether to stay and watch the party or retreat and head home after they have set eyes on the drama. I ran hurried along asking anyone I made eye contact with “Nichani ayi” (what is it?), the only response I got was Kaya (I don’t know). I knew for a fact that it was not a fight, it had to be jucier than that because when it’s a fight everyone is invited to come and see it by the young ones who chant “whoo won, who won”. Aunt Yvonne as she was fondly known was the life of the party, she was married to Uncle G, an accountant at one of the filling stations. Aunt Yvonne would go out all day and drink half the night, her husband l

I was woken up to the sound of a man screaming ndefwaya ifipe fyandi, mpela ifipe fyandi (I want my things give me my things). It took about a minute for me to realize I was certainly not dreaming and that indeed it was in real life that I was hearing two people arguing or fighting. I reached out for my cell phone looked at the time it was 00:05. I reached across the other bed and shook my sister who was already awake being a light sleeper. Flo, Flo have you heard the noise out there?  “Iwe niba Dizo naba kazi bao” she retorted sounding irritated. I tiptoed to the window which was on her said of the bed and surreptitiously opened the curtain to peep outside. There I saw my neighbours husband and wife just as my sister had said. They continued shouting ndefwaya ifipe fyandi and I closed the curtain and whispered to my sister who seemed disinterested in the whole fiasco. Nanga ni fipe bwanji vamene bafuna ba dizo? To which Flo snapped at me saying go and ask him. The husband co

From my hood, I learnt at age 10 that the best thing a woman can ever do is to stay away from other people’s men and husband. I recently, watched a video of a woman who was caught committing adultery and harsh as the actions may have seemed on that video it seemed to me like a drop in the ocean compared to what I had witnessed in the hood. Our neighbor Mavis was fond of complaining about her promiscuous husband. As soon as people in the hood saw her coming they would whisper and speculate on the latest with her hubby. The latest was that he had gone AWOL and word had it that he had a new girlfriend whom he was living with in Chawama. Ba Mavy as she was fondly called in he hood was a resourceful and tenacious woman. She had the most advanced investigative skills such that no matter who her husband had an affair with she was able to find out and locate the woman. Ba Mavy came to tell the neighbors that she now knew exactly where her husband’s concubine lived and that she was