CHAPTER 3
OPPORTUNITIES COME KNOCKING
I lay in a deep slumber as I snored away. I am in a deep sleep so much that a robber could hypothetically steal the bed I am sleeping on without noticing it. As I am sleeping I see Chido entering into my room whilst I am sitting on my bed. At this point I am totally powerless and can’t do anything. She advances towards me dressed in a red long dress with blood stains all over it. In her hands she has a machete in her left hand whilst her right hand is holding a towel. What scares, me to death is, her fiery eyes. Her aquamarine eyes glowing in the badly lit room. Opening her blood tainted mouth she says, “Choose between these two a machete or a towel. Remember what you choose is what I am going to kill you with.” I grow more petrified when I hear the words kill you, I try to give her my pleas but I can’t move my mouth it is as if it is glued. At that moment she drops the machete, for a moment I thought she is going to leave me alone but she then wraps the towel around my neck. When she is about to choke me to death with the towel I hear a faint knock and a voice which sounds like someone is calling my name, the call and the knock grows louder that is when my conscious state of awareness kicks in, as I awake from my nightmare. “Tinashe, Tinashe, Tinashe. Are you in there.” sounds the voice. I rub my eyes as I yawn. In a sleepy tone I reply “Yes, you may come in.” The door is opened as I try to brush aside the hangover I have. “Where you still sleeping, it’s almost 9.30?” asked my mother. “Yes, I was.” I reply as I stretch my hands. “I want you to run an errand for me I want you to go and give Amai Louisa some maize.” said my mother as she stood holding the door handle. Amai Louisa as she is affectionally known by is my elder brother, Tinotenda’s wife. My brother and Amai Louisa had known each other as teens from their days in the youth choir at church. Soon after my brother returned from College in the USA he married Annabel whom we call Amai Louisa. On his return from States soon after completing his first degree, Tinotenda worked for the government owned national air passage carrier company Air-Zimbabwe as an aircraft engineer for a year and a half before he left for California where he is currently working. In the time my brother was here he and Annabel had 2 children a girl named Louisa and a boy named Leroy, both born a year apart. Leroy was actually born 7 months after Tinotenda had returned to the States. “Okay, by the way good morning.” I reply. “Morning.” says my mother as she closes the door. I wake up and make my bed before I go to have a cold shower. It is always a ritual of mine to bath in a cold shower whenever I have a hangover the following morning. As I am brushing my teeth I pause for some moments and stare in the mirror as thoughts rush forwards and backwards in my head, I am beginning to think hard about where I am going , questioning myself if I could ever make it in life. As I stare deeper and deeper into my reflection, realisations became to confront me head on. Maybe searching for money isn’t going to be the panacea of my tribulations. I remember the words said by the legendary Jamaican Singer Robert Nesta Marley that I came across in my high school days which say “Money is numbers and numbers never end. If it takes money to be happy, your search for happiness will never end.” Growing up especially in my late teens I wanted to make money as much as humanly possible. In my mind money is going to be my key to bliss but what I realise staring in the mirror and in those words said by Bob Marley was that a certain part of me needs happiness which money can’t buy. In my heart I believe I would soon find it. Whilst I am in a deep trance of thought my younger sister starts knocking and shouting at the bathroom door. “Tinashe hurry up, I also need to use the bathroom. You have been in there forever. I have to go for extra lessons and I am already behind schedule.” “I am already finished. Anyways Saturdays are meant for rest, why are you going to school?” I say as I place my toothbrush in the bathroom drawer. “Some of us have to write exams.” replied my sister. After wearing a fresh pair of clothes that’s when I realised that Joe had invited me for a party. Knowing I first had to deliver the maize corn before going to the party, I decided to set off first to Mount Pleasant where Mai Louisa resides before I proceeding to Gunhill where the party is been hosted. I phone Bongani and tell him that we will meet up at the party. Before I leave the house I hear my message tone, I quickly check the message. It is a message from Dan-Op Bank informing me that there is going to be an interview on Tuesday. I am a bit mystified that they are sending their message on a Saturday. Commuter omnibus operators have just hiked their fares because it is month end and people have just been paid and they are looking to capitalise on this. The commuter omnibus which I board is particularly interesting because a group of guys sitting in front of me are debating the title chances of Manchester United which is the team I support. I had supported Manchester United since the days of Eric Cantona in the mid-90s. I become involved in the heated debate as I argue with the two guys who are both Chelsea fans. The debate becomes so heated that I almost forgot my drop of point. “Hey, conductor, after the robots.” I say “See you around.” One of the two guys says “Manchester United is not winning this one.” utters the other guy. “Glory Glory-Glory Man United. Glory, Glory, Glory Man United. As the reds go marching through.” I sing loudly as I disembark from the commuter omnibus. Two middle aged ladies sitting in front of me just stare at me looking a bit perplexed as I sing the Manchester United anthem. Their stares tell a story of its own, it is quite evident that they think I am nutcase. I walk a few meters from where the commuter omnibus has left me. There isn’t any gate or fence at my brother house it is a small four roomed cottage. The stands here are huge in contrast to the ones in Highfield, this one in particular was 1 and half acres. It felt there was massive land under-utilisation at my brother place. The small cottage barely covered the stand. Just as I enter the yard I see Mai Louisa. “How are you Mai Louisa?” I asked as I extended my hand to greet Mai Louisa. “Fine, and you babamunini.” replied Mai Louisa as she reciprocates by extending her right hand. Babamunini is a Shona word for uncle. “I am fine, how is Louisa and Leroy?” “There are all well, how is everyone back home?” “Everyone is fine. Mum gave me this parcel to pass on to you.” I say as I hand Amai Louisa the paper bag. “How thoughtful of Mum, I was having a craving for maize. Come inside and I will prepare something for you.” says Amai Louisa as she opens the paper bag. “Where is, Louisa and Leroy?” I ask as we enter the unfinished house. The house is still under construction. “They went to their grandparents for the weekend.” Amai Louisa’s parents also live in Highfield, in Mangwende Street near Machipisa Shopping Centre. I entered into the living room which was a bit dull since Amai Louisa had sold some of the furniture to pay for Louisa’s grade one fees and Leroy’s kindergarten fees. My brother had gone AWOL, he was almost turning into an absent father. I believe my brother was lucky to find a humble, faithful and beautiful wife, because with all the negative signs my brother was giving towards her. She should have walked away and found another man or a boyfriend. The huge 51 inch Samsung television set was the only thing which seemed to give life to the almost empty living room. “When last did you speak to Tinotenda?” I asked. “About 3 weeks ago, and when did you last speak to him?” she replied as she sat down. “Almost a month has elapsed since I last spoke to him.” I replied. In all complete honesty the communication between my family including Amai Louisa and my brother was a bit strained. Since returning to States my brother had lost all perspective with the family he no longer called or nor did he send money either to us or to his wife Amai Louisa. Which had led my father to insinuate that he had fallen into, the arms of another lady in the States who was leading him astray and away from his family. “How is work?” I asked. “Work is fine.” She worked as a sales representative at Rhinos a local shoe manufacturing company. Amai Louisa is a quiet person so there wasn’t much talking going on around. My brother was also quiet and reserved so the two were a good match for each other. After enjoying a scrumptious and luscious meal Amai Louisa had prepared. I gave my thanks before I left for the party. I hire a taxi which takes me directly to Gunhill. Gunhill is the opposite to Highfield, it’s quite you rarely see people walking in the roads unlike in Highfield even at 2 am you are sure to find people walking up and down the roads. Upon arrival in Gunhill my well-being is further pacified by the tranquillity and serenity of the area, the only noise that can be heard of is that of weaver birds which are singing in harmonious and melodious voices. As I disembark from the taxi a cool westerly wind wisps past me as it cools me down as I wipe of the sweat from my forehead. It is a hot summer day. A huge Dura wall and blue electric gate over 2 meters high and a bouncer greet me at the entrance. The bouncer requests my invitation card which I duly present. On entering the gate as I walk on the driveway I notice the well maintained and cut lawn and the immaculately built house. The house a neo-modern double story building located on a picturesque site overlooking a kopje. Eight street lamps, with four on either side, cover the length of the brick paved driveway. The house is a bit quiet for a place hosting a party I was expecting to hear some music since I am almost an hour late from the stipulated starting time. As I approach the huge sliding glass front door I notice Bongani coming out of one of the double lock up garage doors and he is holding two speakers. “So the party hasn’t started.” I said on top of my voice as I waved at Bongani. “It’s now starting.” replied Bongani. “Where are you coming from?” I asked as I touch one of the speakers. “I had accompanied Joe to collect the P.A system.” “I received a message calling me for an interview at Dan-Op Bank.” “Me too.” I replied. “So maybe something will come out of It.” replied Bongani. “You look like a mad man, green shorts, red t-shirt, blue shoes and a brown hat.” “Its colour blocking.” replied Bongani. “This is not colour blocking its colour boring.” At that moment Joe emerges from the garage holding a turntable. “Tinashe come and help me carry this speakers.” said Joe. “Okay.” I replied as I walked towards the garage. We hastily, then set up the P.A system. “You should have told us Joe that it was a swimwear party. I would have come with my swimming truck.” I said as I turned over a piece of pork I was braaing. “It was written on the invitation- card.” replies Joe as he takes a sip of the cider he is drinking. “I didn’t see it.” said Bongani. People started to trickle in and by the time the clock struck 4pm the house was buzzing with activity as people were merry making, dancing and drinking especially at the backyard were most of the action was. Joe had left us to concentrate on selecting the music. Bongani and I decided to move the braai stand near the swimming poor so that we could have a good panoramic view of the girls who were swimming in the pool. You still remember that tall guy that was hit by Jerry at the bar with the bottle. He is Chido’s older brother.” said Bongani. “I wouldn’t shade a tear for him. He deserves it.” I replied. “I spoke to Chido today and she told me her brother had been hit by someone with a bottle at Club Zero” uttered Bongani as he chucked out a huge piece of the meat. “You shouldn’t speak to Chido I had a nightmare and she was in there.” “You are joking.” said Bongani. I narrated my dream as we enjoyed the panoramic view and the meat. It struck my head that we hadn’t finished our conversation on our business idea. “You remember the conversation we had yesterday about that business venture.” I said as I placed down a glass of orange juice. If only my mother knew what I was calling a business venture. “Now you are calling it a business venture.” “Yes. Why not. After all it’s all about money.” “We could just take a stroll out in the road and there is chance we could meet up with some rich, older, beautiful and lonely lady.” said Bongani. Just as I was about to respond to Bongani, Joe arrived with a chubby guy with a bold hair and a colossal beard wearing a jean and a yellow polo shirt cut into our conversation. This guy had a funny look about him. His physical appearance resembled that of an, over weight Santa Clause experiencing a bad hair day. “Boys, this is Mr Ian Guru. His my cousin. He is the son of my uncle, the elder brother of my father.” said Joe. “Nice to, meet you.” I said. “Mr Guru that’s Tinashe Mushayabasa to the left and the other guy is Bongani Nkosi” said Joe. “Joe told me you are looking for jobs.” said MR Guru. “Yes.” Bongani and I simultaneously replied. “I will leave you guys to iron out your things.” said Joe as he walked away. So we began to explain our predicament on how we were facing difficulties in finding jobs. Through the discussion it also came to light that Ian was a chairman of a housing co- operative and also an owner of some boutiques and butcheries. Guru then said he would give us jobs as he needed help to manage both the boutique and butchery. He could no longer manage them on his own because of other growing business interests which occupied most of his time. We had a verbal agreement and we agreed that I would manage his two boutiques and Bongani managed his two butcheries. MR Guru gave us his contact details and we sent up a meeting on Thursday where we would sign our contracts. I decided not to drink any alcoholic beverage at the party after the hangover I had suffered in the morning in contrast to what I was doing Bongani was binge drinking. He was drinking like a fish in the water. The party grew more and more, lively as the day faded away, by the time it was 7pm some guys were fast asleep on the lawn after indulging in one too many drinks. This other guy was so drunk that he started haranguing obscenities and removing his clothes. By this time the party animals had hit their stride as they got into their grove. Bongani and I weren’t networking as we usually do at parties. We saw that the girls here were way out of our league, there was a huge gulf in class. “Bongani, I think it’s time we hit the road now.” I said as I looked at the time on my mobile phone. “I am tired, that’s a good idea. Let us look for Joe and wish him a safe flight before we go.” replied Bongani. We managed to find Joe who took it upon himself to escort us home. So we drove off and were dropped at our respective houses by Joe.