SELL ME THE COW, SO THAT I CAN MILK IT MYSELF

SELL ME THE COW, SO THAT I CAN MILK IT MYSELF: How you assist another person speaks volumes to the kind of person you are. In my early 40’s I was on a roll charting new paths at supersonic speed. There was a sense of urgency. As a person who had given up on doctors finding out what was wrong with me, I thought I was going to die in my 40’s and therefore I wanted to accomplish so many things, in the shortest possible time. I have always understood the power of investment property, so I got myself three (3) mortgages/bonds. I was lecturing at Wits Business School and my salary could not cover payments for three bonds. But there were abundant consultancy assignments literally walking in, through the gate of the school and I was lucky, that some of that work, was parceled out to me. That was before I started opening my mouth, complaining about discrimination and exclusion (a long story for another day). At one time proceeds from the consulting assignments alone, were four (4) times the size of my monthly salary. That is why the Banks agreed to give me three (3) bonds. I had left my family in Zimbabwe, so I had all the time in the world, to burn the midnight oil, juggling lecturing, consulting assignments via Wits and other assignments I secured on my own. Although it was a time of abundance, it was also a time of scarcity, because I spread myself too thin, setting up consortiums and spearheading the set-up of the second black-owned Bureau de Change, Global Foreign Exchange (GFE). I think I made more than a dozen trips to the South African Reserve Bank, Foreign Exchange Dept in Pretoria, over a two (2) year period before we secured our provisional license to operate our first bureau, which was located at the Oriental Plaza in Fordsburg, Johannesburg. GFE has been operating at OR International Airport for more than ten (10) years now. I sold our 55% shareholding in this operation some time back, but this narration represents the context under which I was operating. In a nutshell I was overstretched and highly strung. I made money, but I spent it too, not in conspicuous consumption, but perhaps, in primitive accumulation. I am not sure whether having three (3) bonds funding the acquisition of investment properties can be referred to as primitive accumulation. For starters, the house you live in, is not an investment. The other two (2) bonds were for investment properties. There was this lady whom I thought I was building a strong business and social relationship with. She was a Zimbabwean woman married to a Tswana guy from Botswana. We had met at a consulting assignment with the same client. As our friendship grew, we agreed that in seasons of scarcity, when consulting assignments were few and far between, the other would give business to the one going through scarcity, business. It just so happened that when I was going through consulting assignments’ abundance, she was going through scarcity and vice versa. So, I would parcel out some of my assignments to her and she would take over the clients. We both had MBAs and our areas of competency and skill sets were more or less the same. Be that as it may, I started to notice a pattern. When I was going through a season of scarcity, she never gave me business. She would advance me bridging finance and made me sign an ‘I OWE YOU’. It started bothering me because when I assessed our track record, I had given her 4 clients and she had given me none, but she had given me bridging finance twice. She was breaking the essence of our verbal agreement. By doing that, she was giving me milk, not showing me where the cow is, so that I could milk as much as I would like from it myself. So I decided to exit the relationship without letting her know. She then called me when I was in Maputo on a consulting assignment. When I picked up the phone, she realized from my tone of voice that something was up. She enquired. I apologized to her for not telling her that I had decided, without her consent that, I was going to reduce our so-called friendship, to the size of a bonsai. When we started, I thought it would grow into a baobab but given what has been happening over the past three years, the bonsai level was even more generous. She started weeping on the phone and said, she did not realize that she was breaking our verbal agreement. She asked for forgiveness. To which I advised her that, the last time I checked, it was God and not me, in the forgiveness business. I am no forgiveness expert and it was better that she go to church and be forgiven by the Father of the Catholic Church, because she was a Catholic. That was the end of that friendship. What I took away from that interaction was the following: 1. TRANSACT BASED ON SHARED VALUES: When you do not share the same values, agreements, written or verbal, are never respected. 2. NEVER SELL YOUR INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY CHEAP There are always early warning signs, of trouble ahead. One ignores the tell-tell signs at their own peril. My so-called friend, never saw the value of my intellectual property, yet she would come to my house with her computer and whilst she was sharing her marital problems, cleverly slip in business questions, open her computer and type whilst I dictated billable knowledge. I never did that with her. Her behavior was that of a leech and a fraud. All she needed to do was ask of help and I would have gladly provided it to her for free, since we were on an-enabling-each-other journey together. 3. IN BUSINESS MENTAL GAMES ARE A WASTE OF TIME Those who take from you, underestimate your ability to gauge what is going on as they think they are cleverly creating the impression that the value of your intellectual property is negligible and therefore, they must have it for free. 4. SOCIALIZATION NOT EDUCATION, DETERMINES HOW YOU SHOW UP IN BUSINESS Socialization is key. How you are socialized growing up, largely determines how you show up in the world of business. I believed her when she said, she did not realize that, that is what she was doing. Eventually, I had to choose my myself first, by refusing to be the intensive care unit, of an inadequately raised person. 5. PATRIARCHAL WOMEN AND MEN ARE PROBLEMATIC IN BUSINESS My experience has been that women are more problematic both socially and in business transactional relationships. I have found that they have failed to evolve and that leads them getting personal very quickly. Their reactions to other women in business, is markedly different to when they are responding to men in business. Men are affirmed and feared and women are disparaged and judged. There are men who personalize things too, when dealing with women, but the prevalence of this behavior is widespread amongst women. Whether these behaviors are attributed to women or men, this means that education as we know it, has failed to completely transform, some from amongst us, who continue to behave in inappropriate ways, to the detriment of what could have grown to be lasting business relationships.

ANOTHER RANT FROM HARARE

ANOTHER RANT FROM HARARE: Insomnia is a real threat to others and myself. Every time I am wide awake at 1am, there many others I notice are awake at the same time, with me. I know others, not necessarily all are working. I do burn the midnight oil oft times. But this morning I am not and many other mornings. When I wake up, I always assume I am being called to prayer, so I do so, for a bit or sometimes for a while, then wait the early morning out until 5am, when I wake up to take my morning walk. People say, "take it easy!". Please help me understand what exactly I must "take" and "make easy!". They also say "It is well." What is well, may I ask? What is it about my life, do you think is well? "It is well" is an over used phrase, quoted out of context. It is part of a Psalm which I can locate in the Bible. But what if it not well with my soul? This verse is a call to surrender to God and do the unthinkable and utter, that which is contrary to your soul. It is a call to have faith too. I have faith and I surrendered to God ages ago. But as an honest child, I reveal to him as my Heavenly, Dad, the Creator and the Almighty, that I will not parrot that verse and say, "it is well with my soul" when it is not. When people say, "it is well", they are shutting you down and out. They are saying, I hear you, but I have chosen not to hear you. So I am throwing you this verse, "it is well", hoping that you will shut up. Sorry I refuse to catch this "it is well" ball. Please throw it elsewhere. For me, hollow words and unconcerned utterances must stay where they belong - in File 13. What I know for sure, is that it is hard, to almost impossible to tame the mind, when it chooses to loose itself, on an overdrive of thought processes, whilst getting lost where it has wondered and cannot find its way back again, into your brain. It does not matter what time I sleep, 1am these days is my time to wake up. I cover myself up with a duvet. Switch almost everything off, except a lamp from a distance (total darkness freakes me out), hoping I will get back to sleep, but mind that says, hell to the N.O., not so fast my friend, we are not doing that right now! The mind is full in commandeering speed, opening the eyes and sending me running to the loo to pee. The mind then wonders away, leaving me mindless. I sheepishly jumps back into bed, now wide awake and start staring into the grains of wood on the ceiling. Then I pray and like this morning, proceed to playtime, by sharing a rant here, waiting the morning out to get broken, so I can start my day. Good morning folks. Have a better day than mine. NB. Please do not get me wrong, I am happier in Harare, than I am over there and yet I have not seen many outsiders I know. Maybe only two or three. I stay in my lane and very much minding my own business.

"OF DOING MISSIONARY WORK AND MOVING ON

"OF DOING MISSIONARY WORK AND MOVING ON: We are all missionaries, in way or another and in varying degrees, to all kinds of different people we come across in life. All of us. There are times when our deliberate actions are answers to other people’s yearnings and prayers. God puts you in front of those people so that you resolve a troublesome issue in their life. That is perfectly okay because I believe that, that is the essence of life. That which makes life beautiful, is the ability to put genuine smiles on other people’s faces. But after you have been a God send, move on. Do not wait around to receive endorsements and accolades from them. You must not expect to have a long-term relationship with them. That help you offered when those you helped needed it was transactional, a once off shot so view it as that. Do not linger around longer to have a relationship with everyone you have assisted in their time of need. You will end up unconsciously inviting all kinds of people who should not be in your life, because you are waiting to receive praises or probably expecting them to also help you out. Life does work like that. Oft times, those we assist are not the ones who will be our God sends when we become needy. The Shona saying, “Kandiro kanoenda kunobva kamwe”, literal meaning, “A saucer goes to where another saucer will be received from “, has been wrongly interpreted. Those you assist are not necessarily the ones that will assist you back and those who assist you, you might never find the opportunity to assist them, or you might not even have the capacity nor capability to assist them. So when you assist another, move on. When you are assisted by others, be grateful, but do not wait around to hero-worship them endlessly. The Creator crafted this life in a manner where your blessings always come from other places you least expect and not necessarily from the ones you opened doors for. I would even go further and call it a law of life. Once you master this law, you cease and resist grumbling about those you helped, but who never showed gratitude. It was transactional, finish and klaar! It was missionary work. Missionaries as we knew them growing up, never expected anything in return. We were grateful for all that they did for us, but very few of us, when we could, never returned any favours to the missionary movement. We moved on and in turn helped elsewhere. This realization is important because many of us are unequally yoked to people who should not be in our lives, because we are constantly delivering to a cohort of people, whom we are expecting to rave on endlessly about us. It a sign of the helpers’ flaw and degree of neediness. When this sort of fuel is denied the helper, they get bitter and grumble endlessly to those willing to hear. On the other hand, some from amongst us, are so resentful of those who have assisted us, because of the covert or overt reminders from the helper, that we must be endlessly grateful for the help they gave us and shout about to all and sundry. It is okay as a receiver to announce your gratefulness once and move on. Sticking around to always sing praises to the blesser will leave you aggrieved and splenetic, because you did not leave the relationship at the time you were supposed to. Have self-respect and self-preservation. Refrain from being that kind of missionary who expects something in return or the receiver who sticks around to deceive, through repeated insincere praise. The moment it becomes repetitive, it ceases to be sincere. In a nutshell, when you help, do not expect gratitude. Please just move on. It is okay. You were called by the Almighty, to serve and do your missionary duties. When you are helped, be grateful once and move on. The helper and the helped must both have the discernment to know that it was a mere transaction. A transaction has a beginning, middle and end. At the end of the transaction, both must move on, unless there are extenuating circumstances, demanding the relationship to carry on." **NB - The phrase - "We are all missionary workers" was coined by my beloved younger sister, the one who comes after me, Dr Tendai Daphne Ndoro, a professor in Public Policy and Strategy at Rutgers University in New Jersey (NJ) and the Managing Director of the Small Business Development .Corporation of NJ, in a private conversation I had with her. I have borrowed this phrase and expanded the concept of "missionary worker "here.

AN OBSERVATION PIECE - ZIMBABWE INDEPENDENCE, 18TH APRIL, 2023

Today the 18th April, 2023 is the day Zimbabwe celebrates its 43rd year of political Independence worn through blood, sweat, tears, trauma, amputations, decapitations, cold blood murder, etcetera. Many on both sides did not make it back home. Parents and siblings wept and broken-heartedness never left them. Many who left to fight the war of liberation were young and highly politicized, without fully understanding the implications, of the wrath of war. There was torture and rape of both young women and men, which has never been talked about, because some of the perpetrators of these hate crimes have been allegedly holding political office since Independence. Demobilization and demilitarization took place, but counseling after the war, did not take place. Many resorted to substance abuse and got caught up in its effects and eventually perished. A significant number are still alive and completely forgotten by their counterparts, the ones they fought the war with, side by side. A large chunk of them are poor, helpless, marginalized and bitter. A small connected clique represents the political power elite, gatekeeping with their handsomely paid goons, ensuring that no contender takes power, as their participation in the war of liberation, has become an entitlement for them to rule till they die. It is an unfortunate state of affairs. Zimbabwe 🇿🇼 is a mess. The messiness is well documented. Those in power are numbed with privilege. They are unflinching in their resolve to put down any form of political dissent. We are all wiser in hindsight. My kind of wisdom is that the fight for the land of Zimbabwe was an incomplete and inadequate narrative because no-one can uplift Zimbabwe's land to somewhere far away from Zimbabwe. It is our land and will always remain our land to use, within the artificial borders, demarcated during colonialism. What the war of liberation was actually all about to me, was the restoration of our Zimbabwean and African pride, cultures and human dignity. That for me encapsulates the ratio decidendi, the essence, of our quest for freedom. Across race, class, religious and political divides, we all want the same things - that is to be the genuine and authentic masters and mistresses of our destinies, without having to fork out anything to anybody, for that to happen. We want to be the champions of our own lives, without having to bow down to nobody nor asslick another human being. We want to achieve, on Zimbabwean land or off the land, in other economic spheres, without having to be aligned to any political party. That is the raison d'etre for achieving freedom. Do we have this freedom to champion our own destinies freely, without worrying that we will be targeted? No we don't. Many from amongst us, live with chronic illnesses like BP, because of the weight of the nation's problems we carry on our shoulders. Do we enjoy personal pride and dignity? Not in their totality. It is relative and incomplete. Cultures are not static. They are dynamic. In their dynamism, they are the thread that weaves all Zimbabweans to be one people. Do we have a collective uniformity of purpose as Zimbabweans? I don't know. I doubt it. I am yet to witness it. What I have observed is, it is one person for themselves and God for us all. That fragmentation as a people, has been preyed upon by the political establishment and used to further malign and disadvantage us. Where to now? I have no idea. What I know is, no one government, nor political party, has a monopoly on great ideas. No one generation possesses that either. We need fresh thinking, innovative ideas plus recognizable actions, so that Zimbabweans, who have been relegated to the chicken run, rife with meekness and fearfulness, can rise again, to be the great people they were meant to be. Mourn my beloved country, on this Independence Day!

Why I find the "strong" narrative problematic.

Not so long ago, I was having a whatsapp conversation with Dr Charlton Tsodzo and it dawned on me why I do not like the word, STRONG. When people say "you're strong", I personally believe IT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT. It is a mere remark. This is because oft times, we do not choose to be strong. It is the only option available to us. My Dad always said, Gloria, please try to live a life where you create choices and options for yourself. All my life thus far, I have tried to create a life abundant with choices. I have not always succeeded. When I do not have a choice, I get very insecure and vulnerable. For me, not having Plan B and Plan C and Plan D, constitutes failure. Therefore, to be strong is not a choice. For me, it constitutes a lack of options and therefore it is failure. It is failure because it is thrust upon you by circumstances beyond your control, so you have to be strong! Words like tough and hardy, fall in the same category. You just have no choice but to be tough and hardy. When people tell you that you're strong, be suspicious of them. It's a form of abandonment. They are saying, because you are strong, "you can take care of yourself, without the burden of us holding your hand". The "strong" narrative is twisted and loaded with innuendo. It is a separating position that says, strong is for people like you, who need to be. Some of us, do not need to be, because we have options. A person I know, once called me strong and to support her statement, she called me "njanji", a Shona word meaning railway line. In her mind, she thought equating my level of perceived strength, to that of a railway line was complimentary. I have never felt so offended in my life. I came out guns blazing🔫 . I do not want that kind of perceived "strength". It makes calculating people, want to run over you, over and over again, doing all sorts of nasty and unsavory things to you, testing that strength, wanting to establish your breaking point. It has happened to me far too many times, that is why I reject that word, strong, with every fibre in my body. I also sense a masked veil of pity, when people refer to you as "strong". I believe, many from amongst us, dislike to be pitied. Indestructible is an affirming word. The word resilient sounds to me more positive than the word strong. The word strong, like its antonym, "weak" is a word loaded with value judgements. It is okay to sometimes be fragile, delicate and vulnerable. When you reach these levels, there is no other way out, except towards the direction of traits like, unbreakable, tenacity, determination, perseverance, relentlessness, courage and chutzpah. Please call me anything else, but strong. I cannot stand that word. It says nothing positive about my state of affairs. It essentially takes options away from me, because most times, when I am so-called strong, I have been frogmarched by circumstances, to be!

Business landscape dynamics in Zimbabwe: Observations from an enterprise development activist.

Between 2006 to the beginning of 2008, I was seconded to Maputo on a UNDP/IFC/World Bank project. Besides the challenging and path-finding work I was executing, trying to institutionalize an existing business association, in a predominantly Portuguese speaking country, which had recently become a member of the Commonwealth, there were several business landscape issues I observed, as an outsider looking in, which issues where enablers or disablers for the business association I was assisting. There were subtle but important distinctions on how society was organized in Maputo. This organization had implications on business outcomes. The first grouping was of Mozambicans who never left the country to chart new paths elsewhere. Many Mozambicans left Mozambique during the reign of Samora Machel, due to predominantly economic and security reasons. Rhodesian and South African sponsored Afonso Dhlakama a Mozambican politician and the leader of RENAMO, an anti-communist guerrilla movement, wreaked havoc, fighting the FRELIMO government in the Mozambican Civil War during the period 1977 to 1992. Although the war was concentrated in the centre and north of Mozambique, those in the south, whilst relatively safe, felt insecure and hence the exit of sorts, to neighbouring countries and Portugal. Then there were the Mozambican returnees – these are the ones who had left the country, on self imposed exile and chose to come back, after Samora died and Joaquim Chissano, a FRELIMO politician, took over as the second President of Mozambique, from 1986 to 2005. Chissano’s reign was credited with transforming the war-torn country, into one of the most successful African democracies. The third grouping were the expatriates. These were predominantly expatriates who came to work in Mozambique and never left, settling in Mozambique, with many of them investing in business. This grouping included, the Lebanese, who had settled into the country as investors into the private sector. The fourth category, were the Portuguese from Portugal. This grouping, together with their Lebanese counterparts were allegedly the prime controllers of the economy. There were widespread allegations, that the government literally resided in their back pockets. The fifth cluster, the dealmakers, was the local political establishment, comprising the FRELIMO who is who. FRELIMO is the dominant party in Mozambique and has won a majority of the seats in the Assembly of the Republic since June 25, 1975, when Mozambique became an independent, single-party state led by Frelimo, with Machel serving as the first President and thereafter, in every election since the country's first multi-party election in 1994. In a nutshell, FRELIMO has ruled Mozambique since 1975, initially as the sole legal party in a one-party system and later from 1994, as the democratically elected government in a multi-party system. FRELIMO has been in power for 47 years. It was my observation that each grouping, was very distinct and from a business point of view, preferred to do business with members of that grouping, with the exception of course, of the fifth grouping, the government officials, who interacted with the rest of the groupings and also within other government departments. This meant that there were parallel micro-economies within the overall Mozambican macro-economy. The micro-economies were made up of the every other cluster, excluding the political dealmakers, were forever jockeying for power, to influence business outcomes, with the endorsement of the political establishment. The simplistic scenario described above is more or less true for Zimbabwe. For starters,’ ZANU-PF has been in power for 42 years, since independence in 1980, a mere 5 years short of Mozambique. The scenario for 2022-Zimbabwe, just like 2006-Mozambique, the business groupings, also appear subtle . But if you are keen-eyed and on the qui vive, the distinctions are hidden in plain sight, as follows: The first grouping are Zimbabweans who have never left the country for the so-called greener pastures in the diaspora. This is a group of people who have always understood that the grass is greener where you water it, not on the other side, as previously thought. They possess an, adapt or die attitude and a transformative mindset. So every day, they keep their ears to the ground, scanning for new opportunities and a change of financial and business regulations by the authorities. Because of the informalization of the economy by enacting disabling business policies by government, many operate in the informal sector, scheming, plotting and making risky but calculated moves. Its predominantly a cash market that is not necessarily visible because the USD cash is not banked. Because of the cash nature of the transactions, the black market thrives. This is a market that determines rates. On occasion, the Central Bank and business bigwigs participate in this market, to mop up the cash exchanging hands. When they do, rates move up north and a cash crunch ensues. The second grouping are white Zimbabweans, a large number who lost farms, but find it more lucrative to stay in Zimbabwe because, firstly, it is home and secondly, because they no longer have cropping nor livestock management risk, but through previous international lobbying by the Commercial Farmers Union, control foreign markets for agricultural produce in Zimbabwe and as a result have become middle-men, racking in profits and exploiting the new black landowners who benefitted from the fast track land reform programme. Many of these new farmers, whilst book smart and educated, are weak on farm costing, general record-keeping, smart procurement, management and cost containment on the farm. This second grouping of white Zimbabweans, possess minorities-in-majority-settings like and Rhodesian values, where solidarity is their unifying doctrine as they consciously choose to transact amongst their own white people, at the deliberate exclusion of black people, essentially keeping money within their white community. They control most value chains in industry, commerce and mining, all the way to retail operations. That is why most big retail outfits of a conglomerate nature, are owned by white establishments. The third grouping are the Chinese, who apparently and allegedly masquerade as investors, whilst extracting as much as they can within short periods of time and preferring to operate, particularly in mining, whilst displacing locals, from their ancestral land where they reside and where their fore-parents are buried. They privately extract and export far much more than they openly give and then the powers that be hold celebratory ceremonies, being thankful to them, for what Zimbabwean resources would have essentially funded. The recently completed Zimbabwe Parliament in Mt Hampden, is a case in point. There are widespread allegations that wherever they go to plunder in mining, they first name drop, the highest office in the land, and then proceed to extract unabated. Apparently they are highly networked within the political establishment. The fourth grouping are the Indians, mainly from Pakistan. Many are born and bred in Zimbabwe, but they go and marry in Pakistan and bring their spouses back home to Zimbabwe. They tend to keep a low profile, are highly networked in government circles and like the whites, see the majority of the black community as consumers only and not people worthy to do business with. The fifth block are diaspora groupings, predominantly black, living mainly in South Africa, the United Kingdom, United States of America and Australia. According to apanews.net, “In a Mid-Term Monetary Policy Statement, the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe (RBZ) chief said, total international remittances amounted to US$1.372 billion as of June 30, 2022, which translated to an increase of 23 percent from the US$1.113 billion recorded during the same period in 2021.” A significant number of this grouping wants to go back home to Zimbabwe, to work, set up businesses and retire, but many are unaware what awaits them. The segmented business landscape, makes it difficult for them to penetrate profitable established networks. The sixth cluster, the dealmakers, like in Mozambique are the local politicians, comprising the who is who of ZANU-PF. It has become a profitable enterprise to be a politician in Zimbabwe. Even opposition politics pays well, as they allegedly receive handsome amounts from the donor community. Many successful businesspeople are in one way or another aligned to the political establishment. It is a strategic move, lest you get targeted for takeover or failure. So you sensibly keep your head down and nicodemously consort with them privately, away from the glare of the cameras. The white farmers who survived the fast track land reform programme are connected at the highest levels in ZANU-PF. Infact, many are card carrying members of ZANU-PF. It is calculated, intentional and a shrewd move for business survival. Afterall, as a so-called democratic country, they are exercising their right to freedom of association. It is has never been enough to know people in strategic places, where you want to transact. They must acknowledge they know you enough to want to give you the business. It is who says they know you, in a positive light, when you are not around, who matter. They are the ones likely to give you business. Without relevant networks, with the willingness to give you business, or access to people they know, facilitating you getting the business you want, you are doomed. In Zimbabwe, certain races reserve business for their own. They do not buy from certain races too, this is so that they keep money circulating in their own community. It is conscious and deliberate. It is business exclusion and it is happening under our noses. But even within the black community, there are certain places you will never get business. Others will exclude you for religious reasons, eg, you are not SDA, others because they do not know you. The truth is most people transact with people they are close to, like, know or they have been referred to by trusted family or friends. It is what it is, so try to break the barriers and literally barge into some of these closed clusters, that have been mentioned in this piece.

Financial freedom for women 101 – Do not pan for gold in an urban sewer.

 This article was first published in The Standard in Zimbabwe in November 2017.

Recently, I attended a prayer service for a late Aunt at the Willowvale branch of a leading funeral parlour. The Chaplain, a one Mr Ngwenya (if I remember the name correctly,) was leading the short service before we collected the remains of the deceased. His sermon was focused, surreal and unbelievably perplexing. With a great sense of confidence and finality, he rambled on about “how women were not human beings, that they were created to be helpers, and only to their husbands.” I thought, really, what is informing this man’s thinking? With emphasis, he repeated it twice. “Women are not human beings, they are not people, just mere helpers to men.” He quoted a verse in the bible to that effect and proceeded to mention that “women must not work and must just wait to be led and directed by their husbands.” His ramble included his distastefulness of women who go jogging in the avenues in the morning etcetera. As my Aunt’s body lay in that sealed white coffin, I got a clearer view of how sorrowful platforms like these, are hijacked by self – styled clergymen like him, for the sole purpose of propagating their offensive, misogynistic and patriarchal views. Behind me were women and men clapping and loudly agreeing to every mind - boggling disingenuous commentary he spewed about his perceived role of women in our society. 

Zimbabwe is generally a prayerful society. Close to 90% of the population believe in one form of religion or another. In chapels where people go to fellowship and hear the Word, the set up is often a monologue with one or several people talking to the attentive congregation about their understanding of the Word. Attendees are expected to listen from an hour to even as long as the whole day. Some of the sermons are clearly programming and brainwashing interventions, like the one at my Aunt’s funeral. There is no room for debate and often, afterwards, no one is allowed or musters the courage to interrogate preached narratives that they might not necessarily agree with.  

So as I sat quietly choking on my very own rage, it became obvious to me, why the majority of women, as they approach their fifties, find themselves either flat broke, financially dependent or financially vulnerable. Many women are unable to leave abusive relationships because they are financially disabled. It is part of Zimbabwe Incorporated ethos, to socialize and acculturate women to be completely dependent on a male figure, a father as a child (here all children have no choice) and then a husband as an adult. In a case where there is no husband, a brother, another person’s  husband or a partner is expected to foot the bills. No wonder many from amongst our young women today are searching for men “with resources” to partner with. It is risky and dangerous to depend on a man to deliver your standard of living. A balanced and more respectful relationship is when both partners contribute to that mutually agreed to standard of living. 

I have said this before and I will repeat this again now: if you are not demented, deaf, dumb, blind or disabled, you have no reason to be financially dependent on another human being. After all, many deaf, dumb, blind and disabled people across the country are economically productive, so should you.  Being financially dependent on another is like panning for gold in an urban sewer. It is settling for less. It is choosing the low road over the high road and as a woman, you will never achieve financial freedom.

In the last two instalments, I put forward a compelling case why it is a necessary imperative for women to achieve financial freedom. Financial freedom and the security it brings, can be achieved when the income from your assets and investments exceeds your cost structure. Whilst there are numerous ways of achieving financial freedom, below please find four (4) ways of starting your path towards financial security.

1. Eliminate debt and reduce your living expenses

It does not matter how much you earn, the point is, if you are not earning more than you are spending, you will never achieve financial security. The principles of personal money management are universal, maximize your income as you minimize your expenditure. As long as you borrow long term to finance recurrent expenditure, financial freedom is a pie in the sky. As long as you remain beholden to overdraft facilities, credit card debt, car loans, loans to finance consumption of household good and so on, you are not financially free. Your bank or the money lending institution that advances you loans, owns you. It is oft wise to spend what you have than you rely of short - term loans.

If you have given him a license to rule over you and agreed to languish at home, completely dependent being a woman who is clueless about the financial decisions that impact your household, please pay close attention to #2, below.

2. Be part of the financial decision - making process

As much as I would like to stand on top of Harare Kopje and shout out loud about financial freedom for women, the point is, all relationships are different and so are agreements in those relationships. Be that as it may, there is one issue that women ought to be top of mind about – the financial decision - making process. If you are in a matrimonial setting or in a long-term relationship, it is important to ensure that you embed yourself in the financial planning process. Not only is it vital for you to know where all the financial information about the family is kept, it is necessary that you be the gate keeper of the safe, including a clear understanding of what investments the family has, where, in partnership with whom, the location of title deeds, if under a trust, study the trust deed and seek understanding of the legal jargon, establish the presence of local and foreign accounts, knowledge of specific account numbers and in particular passwords. It is important to be part of discussions with financial advisers/planners locally or offshore that your partner intends or has already hired.

 

In the event there is secrecy around money matters and an argument ensues when you insist on being part of the financial decision - making process, then you are compromised. Get busy. Establish the reason for lack of full disclosure by your partner. What is being hidden? Why? Do not wait for surprises. Get up and go make your own money if you have not already wised up to it. It is never too late to work towards your financial security.

3. Create alternative income streams

Alternative income stream is income derived from secondary activities that you do not rely on for your day to day living expenses. They provide you with extra income to invest elsewhere. We live in a country where to have one income stream is as wise as mining for diamonds in a local municipal public pool. There is none. That one income stream used to be a day job, but with many people unemployed, spaces have been created for self - employment or new business creation. Many women I have had conversations with, whilst having multiple and alternative income streams, are actually living off those income streams. That strategy is a threat to financial freedom. If you are unable to set aside money to invest elsewhere so that investment makes money for you whilst you work elsewhere, you remain compromised and vulnerable. 

A good starting point is to look around your household, assess and unlock value in the excess assets you already have. Cars parked for long periods in your garage without use is depreciating steel. Dispose  of some of them. Have a garage sale; sell off excess household furniture, clothing, shoes and so forth. Recently, a neighbor got rid of excess items, and from the proceeds built a two bedroomed cottage she is now renting for $600 per month. That $7200 per annum would have been forgone had she not disposed of excess household items.

4. Be in a small network of girlfriends with financial freedom values

There is a reason why birds of the same feather flock together. It makes sense to be in a network of like - minded women that benefit from the sharing of their collective wisdom and are increasingly aware that marriage is no longer a safe haven for aging women, that understand that women tend to live longer than men and question what independent quality of life one would have when one gets good innings – without relying on the goodwill of millennial children, that money is a like a visitor – and therefore sometimes it visits in abundance and sometimes it does not – and therefore relying on one income, or the financial acumen of one person can be risky, that women ought to be financially independent regardless of their marital status, is the best thing you can do for yourself. Ideas and knowledge are far much more valuable than money itself. When you move around and within circles of financially independent women, they will share with you ideas on how to be financially free. If you are unable to find such grouping, start one. 

Financial Freedom for Women 101 – A husband is not a viable retirement plan

This article was first published in The Standard a newspaper in Zimbabwe in October 2017.

Every woman needs a private rescue fund (PRF) that only one trusted person knows about. That trusted person does not necessarily need to be someone you are living with. We are surviving in unpredictable and risky times and many families have lost everything they worked for, including their homes because a spouse/partner who was supposed to be knowledgeable about all things financial, made a gamble with family assets and lost. Yes, there are many others who have taken calculated risks with family assets and won, but this discussion is about women who find themselves in a financially bankrupt situation and the importance of them achieving financial freedom, that benefits the whole family, but most importantly, themselves. 

The issue here is, it is risky business to transfer the responsibility of the family’s financial management to one person because no one person or gender has the monopoly on great ideas. The PRF is a hedge against poor financial decision-making, mitigation for unforeseen circumstances or your own retirement if you are lucky to get good innings. Where you locate your PRF is key. Do not bank the money, for when you need it, might not be readily available. Cash is currently in short supply within the banking system and when you need your loot, the banks will be dispensing $50 per day and you might need to wake up at 4.00am to get that miserable amount. The best way is to apply for a safe deposit box and thus far the best one in town is at CABS by Northridge Park near the racecourse. 

To achieve marital status is a blessing from the Almighty, not an achievement. To marry and then agree to down tools waiting for a spouse to fund your lifestyle all the way to retirement is as good as setting up an open fresh meat stall in the middle of Hwange National Park and expect to come of there with all limbs intact. A husband is not a viable retirement plan, neither is any spouse for that matter. Your children are not viable retirement plans either. As a woman, you have to work hard and smarter and achieve your very own financial freedom. 

If you are an adult woman of 50 years and above, is not deaf, dumb, blind or incapacitated in whatever shape or form and you find yourself flat broke, all is not lost, not yet, but it is most likely your fault you find yourself in this quandary because you should have made different choices when time was on your side. If you are an adult female, who is in an unhappy or abusive relationship, by staying put for economic reasons, you are in trouble because the trauma you endure everyday is likely to distract you from achieving financial freedom. If you are a married woman, with a high achieving spouse, who has convinced you that you do not need to work because he makes more than enough bacon for both of you, you need to go back to the drawing board and ask yourself whether this is truly what you signed up for. No one achieves financial freedom from controlled handouts. Often, to make you redundant is a control mechanism to ensure financial dependence. At the end of the day, it is your choice what outcomes you desire for yourself and your life.

Being married does not necessarily entitle you to his funds. Even if you control the family bank account, you still need to be accountable. Staying at home doing nothing except the school run is a foreign concept. Our mothers worked, so did our grandmothers and those who came before them. They worked and the clever ones kept their PRFs hidden under mattresses. I am not advocating the same, but there are smart ways to work for your financial freedom even though you are a stay home Mum. 

In an ideal world, when one spouse is the bread - winner, you are entitled to a share because you indirectly contribute in a supportive role. But in the real world, in the event of say, a divorce (I am not wishing that on anyone) it is always hard to prove you did. In the eventuality that he changes his mind about promises made agreed to whilst under the crispy comfort of the warm sheets, you could easily find yourself vulnerable, wondering how the hell you got there. Stand up, use your hands and do something, now! It is not too late. After all many men are not coping. Often, when the burden of bread - winning becomes unbearable for them, they start viewing you as a “chipfukuto”/weevil, and abuse in all its dimensions sets in.

Many women are already vulnerable in their matrimonial settings and with courage, could be making different choices. Many are trying, but many more are emboldened with a thick blanket of confusion and dizziness. If you are the other woman, a “small house”, living large without any knowledge of his financial affairs or who owns the house you are living in, beware, for one day you might just find yourself and your children in the streets. There are many scenarios that women find themselves in and the ones listed above are a few examples.

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The point I am making is, women, regardless of their marital status need to work at achieving financial freedom for themselves. We have come a long way. Since independence in 1980, there has been sections of the law that have been reformed in order to include and empower women. Some of the several pieces of legislation as outlined by Machirori F, in a January 2015 article entitled, “15 Legal Reforms that Impacted Zimbabwean Women’s Rights in the 1980s and 1990s” published on herzimbabwe.co.zw include but are not restricted to the following:

• Equal Pay Regulations (1980)

o This provides for equal pay for equal work, in addition to providing for half an hour’s time before and after lunch for breastfeeding.

• Customary Law and Primary Courts Act (1980)

o This piece of legislation was established to empowered community courts to administer maintenance laws. It also provides for maintenance claims for women in unregistered customary marriages.

• Legal Age of Majority Act (1982)

o This confers full legal capacity on every Zimbabwean aged 18 years and above. It also gave daughters the capacity to inherit their fathers’ estates. It also authorised women (including widows) to qualify as guardians of minors and to administer deceased estates.

• Labour Relations Act (1984)

o This provided for 3 months’ maternity leave with some reasonable reduction in salary. The Act outlaws discrimination against any employee on grounds of race, tribe, place of origin, political opinion, colour, creed, or sex, in respect of wages, promotion, recruitment, training and retrenchment.

• Matrimonial Causes Act No 33 (1985)

o This provides for equitable distribution of matrimonial assets upon divorce. It also removes the ‘fault principle’ (that is, when one partner is said to be at fault in the breakdown of the relationship) as grounds for divorce.

• Public Service Pensions (Amendment) Regulations (1985)

o This allowes for women to contribute to medical aid schemes in their own right. Female contributors in public service could also now contribute to their pension at the same rate (7.5%) of pensionable enrolments as men.

• Deceased Person’s Family Maintenance (Amendment) Act (1987)

o This provides for the surviving spouse and children – in the case of death – have a right to continue occupying the matrimonial house, use the household goods and effects they were using before the deceased’s death, use and enjoy crops and animals belonging to the matrimonial estate. Property grabbing by relatives of the deceased therefore became illegal.

• Infanticide Act (1991)

o This Act allows the crime of infanticide to replace the murder charge out of consideration of a mother’s post-natal depression, rejection by boyfriend/ husband, parents and/or relatives.

• Deceased Person’s Family Maintenance (Amendment) Act (1987)

o This provides for the surviving spouse and children – in the case of death – have a right to continue occupying the matrimonial house, use the household goods and effects they were using before the deceased’s death, use and enjoy crops and animals belonging to the matrimonial estate. Property grabbing by relatives of the deceased therefore became illegal.

• Infanticide Act (1991)

o This Act allows the crime of infanticide to replace the murder charge out of consideration of a mother’s post-natal depression, rejection by boyfriend/ husband, parents and/or relatives.

• Deeds Registry Amendment Act (1991)

o The Deeds Registry Amendment Act allows women to register immovable property in their own name (and can apply to urban and rural commercial land where title deeds were obtainable).

• White Paper on Marriage Inheritance (1993)

o This was proposed as a replacement of the African Marriages Act with legislation equally applicable to all Zimbabweans. As such, it seeks to give the surviving spouse, and children, equal rights to inheritance as opposed to one heir.

• Administration of Estates Amendment Act (1997)

o This Act provides for the rights of the surviving spouse/s, in an intestate estate, over the matrimonial home, and also for them to receive a share in the deceased spouses intestate estate. An intestate estate is one in which the deceased’s estate is not effectively disposed of by the deceased’s will.

• Maintenance (Amendments) Act (2002)

o Under this act, the non-custodial parent is required to contribute regularly to the maintenance of minor children in the custody of the other parent. In the Act, the courts are empowered to attach terminal benefits (e.g. pension benefits) accruing to the person who was ordered to pay maintenance if he/ she subsequently left employment. A woman could now file maintenance claims from the court nearest to her, with the man legally obliged to travel to that court. A woman could also claim maintenance from an ex-spouse any time after divorce if there was need for it, and a woman in an unregistered customary marriage was entitled to maintenance from the man after dissolution of the union.

• Domestic Violence Act (2006)

o To make provision for the protection and relief of victims of domestic violence and to provide for matters connected with or incidental to the foregoing. 

Despite the enabling legal framework, more than three and a half decades of independence in Zimbabwe, the status of women, gender equality and most importantly the issue of economic empowerment of women, have reached an all time low. It is a low I have never seen nor witnessed before. Less than five women are heading up Zimbabwe Stock Exchange listed companies. Less than five women are CEOs of State Owned Enterprises, less than 5 women are permanent secretaries of government ministries. Women’s representation of parastatal and private sector company boards are negligible. 

Although this is the situation at the higher echelons of formal employment, according to the Zimbabwe National Statistics Agency (Zimstat) 2016 report entitled, Understanding Equality in Zimbabwe: Women and Men, Zimbabwean women make up 54% of the workforce in the agriculture, fisheries and forestry sector, 62,1% of the wholesale and retail trade and repair of motor vehicles. Women also dominate education at 57%, health and social welfare work at 64,2%. Female dominance also extends to categories defined as ‘other service activities’ at 57,6% and ‘activities of households’ with 79,5%. But gainful employment of women is not necessarily translating to savings or wealth creation by women. As women get older and leave employment for whatever reason, the feminization of poverty spikes. When the data on the predominance of women in employment is disaggregated it shows that many women are employed at the lower end of the market including the informal sector where their existence is survivalist. 

Financial literacy amongst women, both educated and uneducated is low and generally speaking women are less confident to make good savings and investment decisions with their own money. The tendency by most women is to fund household expenditures with their money throughout their working lives. As a result, on retirement, many women are exposed, without adequate financial security even to cope in unplanned emergencies.

The deafening silence of the women’s movement on many issues affecting women has grown acute. A country with a high propensity for excluding women and relegating them to the fringes of society involved in menial and survivalist roles, in essence marginalizing them, a whole constituency of 52% of the population, is a country going nowhere slowly. The fact is no one gender should be preferred over another and if you leave more than half of your population behind, progress will be hampered. 

In my next write-up, I will talk about several ways to achieve financial freedom for women.

Disruption the only way to level the playing field.

 The violence of poverty has a systematic habit of emptying our faculties of all goodness. When this happens, only ugliness prevails. 

We must fear the savagery of poverty, at all costs, for brutality and cruelty begets cruelty and brutality. 

All systems, cultural, political,  economic, control measures, etcetera, in the past and present, that excluded and as a result pauperised a people to a state of indignity, created a henious crime against humanity. Colonialism, apartheid, imperialism, capitalism neo-colonialism, the feminization of poverty and so on and so forth, are some of these treacherous systems. Our governments continue to pursue elements of this treachery at our very own peril. No one is untouchable. We are all affected, in one way or another. We are now a generation moving around whilst being scared of each other. We live in gated communities to keep other human beings, whom we know succumbed to predatory behaviors because of the violence metted on them by these acts of barbarity against humanity. It is cold comfort, for the non predatory minority from all hues, to believe they are safe and sustainable, when the majority are clearly excluded, hungry and perishing of disease.

Disruption of that which does not include nor benefit the currently excluded might be the only way to level the playing field. Maybe we all need to start from ground zero, where there is no other way except going up, for everyone, particularly those currently traumatized, by the viciousness of poverty.

Of Customer Education and Closing that Deal

 

The truth is, if you have a brilliant product/service, that has value to many people, but you do not market it and close the deal, you will never make money from it. Many people dislike the customer education function, but it is the cornerstone of any successful business.

The essence of a good business opportunity is when the service/product is a need in the marketplace. Business opportunities underpinned by wants are equally good when they serve specific niche markets. For example, food like mealie pap could be a need in many indigenous Southern African communities and yet, in those same communities, cake, still a food item, is regarded a want and not necessarily a need.

So business opportunities that fill a need tend to do well throughout the world. However, we need to peel another layer off. If you unpack the concept of the Living Standards Measure (LSM), you might establish that at LSM 10, for example, a night moisturizer is a need, for a 60 year old, whereas at LSM 3, for the same age, a night moisturizer is not even on the radar for that grouping, as a want. 

There are different markets for needs and wants. When there is value, in a product/service, that is a need or a want in the various LSMs, ordinarily measured from 1 to10, there will always be customers to buy it. For every product/service with an appealing value proposition, there is a buyer. You therefore do not need to deploy high pressure selling tactics. You must persuade the potential customer to participate in closing the deal with you, simply through customer education. 

Potential customers cannot buy what does not exist in their minds. You have to educate them about your value proposition. Thereafter, they will ask you about the immediate next steps and you close the deal that started off as a marketing and customer education pitch.

These principles are true for all products/services and virtually for all marketplaces.

How you get an audience from a marketplace is different. With the advent of the internet and the booming social media, many people are selling and making money online. But customer education is more than selling. Selling tends to involve parroting sales clichés taught at the company’s sales school, whereas customer education is about meaningful engagement with the potential client, where you allow them to reflect on the information you have presented and interrogate you. If it is a product whose use you can demonstrate, you ought to spend a great deal of time showing them how it works and why it is a good idea to consider having it. The point here is, if you do not close that deal, there will be no transaction and therefore no profit realization. Refrain from hurriedly wanting to close the deal. Displaying desperation for that deal, will make the potential customer run. 

Nail bar and clothing shop owners whose owners are always present when potential and existing customers visit, tend to be like “agony aunts” as they listen to the clients’ personal issues whilst the shopping is taking place. Listening and allowing the customer to vent, is a way of creating a safe space for the customer, away from their daily grind. It is a way of creating a conducive and enabling environment for deal closure.

Other methods of accessing marketplaces include but are not restricted to having physical shops at or away from home, having a network of agents who distribute your offering, selling through retail shops, etcetera. The principle stays the same, you are getting your product/service known in the marketplace!

Unfortunately many people are misinformed about personal customer education where you gather a group of people in a room and you deliver target presentations to them. Many people think its below them, to 

inform, educate and persuade directly, on a face to face basis, a potential client, who might find value, in your proposition. Authors, have succeeded in doing this, through book launches and book signings. Reputable multi-level distributors have succeeded in making people build businesses within businesses, through this model. Personal customer education is of a delicate nature because you stand amongst people, using product/service knowledge to cajole in order to close the deal. There is no room for high pressure selling tactics. I have come to adore this method of getting a potential customer to commit, because your credibility and integrity are at stake. If you are that credible, whatever you are educating potential customers about, must offer a money back guarantee. 

In the spirit of having multiple income streams, this is where those keen in achieving financial freedom, must navigate business opportunities that allow them no access fees, great products that deliver, a whole wide web of a dependable support system and a money back guarantee. 

The most successful multi-level marketing 

programmes take care of their entrepreneurial distributors.  Many have become multi-millionaires just by following proven and tried methods developed over decades. Those who have succeeded in multi-level distribution, have also succeeded in other businesses, because the business principles are the same, they are transportable, adaptable and can be leveraged from one business to the other. 

When you do not have targets and sales turnover forecasts, what are you aiming for? It is a graph with consistent increases in sales turnover, whilst keeping expenses down and managing cashflow, that are some of the determinants of steady business growth. That business growth is anchored in sales turnover. No matter how you much you like or dislike customer pitching in business, it is the cornerstone of building a viable business. Fortunately, the best customer pitches are done face to face, are personal and you get better at it, the more you do it. Sooner or later, one way or the other, potential clients start seeking you out, because of word-of-mouth networks - the most authentic and legitimate marketing and customer education gimmick. 

My next instalment will be on word-of-mouth.

When Reality Does Not Meet Expectation

I was food poisoned by a neighbour, four years ago. When I flew into Johannesburg from Harare, two days later, in a deathly state, the cheerfully reassuring and professional young Xhosa doctor, who attended to me at Sandton Mediclinic, told me that if I had stayed another 10 hours in Harare, the underground ants and maggots would have been guaranteed a meal to last them several weeks.

My neighborhood in Harare, supports a police post we helped found. Without wanting to sound like I do more than others, which I do not believe is the case, every time I am in Harare, I sometimes give them food to cook for lunch and in some cases where they are lacking in cash, bus fare. These acts are nothing significant, but mere simple acts of appreciation for their service over the years.

The worst thing to happen to any citizen, anywhere in the world, is to have compromised law enforcement officers, who are hungry and marginalized, whilst being of service to you, with your overfed belly. It is the same thing as being on the school run every week day, to drop off your children at school, in a deteriorated economy, oblivious to the fact that, the teachers you expect your children to learn from, are in a worse off position than yourself, as they, for example, are not coping with fuel shortages. So, it is conceivable to drop off your children at school, for a teacher who might not arrive at all or arrive on time. It is insane for anyone to be driving around in their sports utility vehicles, to drop off their kids to be taught by teachers who are hungry, tired and worried about fuel availability amongst many other bread and butter issues. When we do that, we are as twisted as the macro set of economic circumstances we have no control over.

So, on this particular day, a lady constable from the police post asked me for help. Their bosses from headquarters (HQ) were doing the rounds and it was their responsibility to host them for lunch. As the police post was not geared for that kind of thing, she enquired whether I could mobilize the neighborhood to do something to assist them.

I advised her that, as it was short notice to notify the neighbourhood on the whatsapp group, I was certain that my neighbor would certainly be able to do something to assist. Over the years, we had become good friends with my neighbour. We dined at their house and they dined at ours. We gave each other Christmas gifts. When their family visited from Ireland, we would visit for drinks and they would come to ours with them for a barbecue. When either of us travelled, we checked on each other’s properties. At one time, our husbands patrolled the neighborhood together. We both watched our kids grow to be young adults and we often made time to enjoy the neighborhood gossip over wine. I first got to know about Barry Lungu, the renowned Zimbabwean fine artist some 13 years ago from my neighbours’ home. Their home is adorned with Barry’s earlier and captivating works. I believe we had developed a history together. In our household we considered them as good as family. So, a random call from me asking for favours for the police would not come as a surprise to her.

As I do not ordinarily keep white mealie meal in the house (we prefer small grains), she offered to bring some including bottled water, fizzy canned drinks and cooked mince-meat. We decided to work with what we already have. So, I cooked rice, three road runner chickens from our compound, some t-borne steak and fried some kale vegetables. 

The constable and I eventually decided that their HQ police bosses and local staff totalling eleven people would use my dining room for lunch as it would be a logistical nightmare to transport the food to the ill-furnished and no-catering-facilities police post.

When the food and drinks donated by my neighbour was delivered, I doubted that my neighbour had cooked the mince-meat. As a person who had wined and dined innumerable times in my neighbours’ home, I knew her culinary skills and standard. The cooked mince-meat quality was not her standard, I thought to myself. The mine-meat was watery and had a stench so familiar, yet I could not place it at the time.

I was immediately engulfed with a sense of discomfort and disbelief. I then defaulted to my African way of thinking. The mince-meat had to be served because it was donated for the policemen to eat. I was not going to give it to the dogs and waste food. But because it was being served in my house, I was going to tweak it and get rid of the foul smell.

I put the mince-meat back on the stove and added dried parsley, thyme and 6 cut up cloves of garlic. I tasted the mince and there was still something offish about it. In a separate pan I fried onion, tomato, more garlic and rosemary. I added tomato paste and simmered it for a bit after which I added it to the mince in the pot. After mixing, I tasted it again. The stench was not subsiding and remained as pronounced as it was before. I then decided to add beef spice, sazon Goya and an additional range of Goya spices from Spanish America. The stubbornness of the foulness stayed put. As a last-ditch effort to save the mince, I added some kale to the mince, mixed and simmered.

Still there was no improvement.

My sense of smell has always been sharper than most. I then convinced myself that the stench in the mince was not so bad after all because it was my sense of smell in overdrive. I then made the decision to serve the kaled-up-mince with the rest of the feast.

What Sisi, the house help, and I noticed, was that all the policemen dished the mince onto their plates, but they did not touch it at all. If they ate it at all, they sampled a very little bit. The pyrex dish where we served the mince remained full whilst the other dishes were cleaned up. I felt a great sense of relief. At least I had done the right thing, served all their food and it was them that chose not to partake in the mince-meat consumption.

For supper I had fresh cassava and kale from the garden. The foul smell from the mince was still with me, in my mouth, and so I had told myself I was not going to eat meat for a while.

We normally feed our dogs at night, so when Sisi was cooking the dog food we buy in packets, in bulk from PnP Borrowdale, that stench from my neighbours’ mince-meat filled the scullery where the gas stove she was using is located. Sisi said, “Mum, the mince-meat was either mixed with dog meat or it was dog meat only.” I told Sisi that she was right and we both wondered why my neighbour would do that. We compared the cooked mince and kale and the dog mince that was cooling now, and they looked and smelled the same with the mince having a pinkish colour to it. We were stunned and agreed never to share the information with anyone.

The following day I woke up to a compromised wifi connection which was erratic as it connected and disconnected intermittently. I was on a writing dead-line, so I asked my sister in law who lived in Highlands at the time, if I could come over to her place and write from dining room whilst using her wifi. 

Before leaving my neighbourhood, I had passed through Ashley Birch's studio around the corner from us. Ashley has always made unique mirrors and paintings and a friend who had seen one of Ashley's mirrors in my Johannesburg quarters wanted one. So, I had gone there to check on the latest pricing so that I could advise her. As I marveled at the mirrors in the studio whilst taking in the picturesque views of faraway mountains in Shamva, Murehwa and beyond, from Ashley's wrap around patio, I started feeling dizzy. I told the studio assistant I would be back and quickly jumped into the car and sped off to Highlands drinking the water I had left in the car. I was not going to go back home because I was running out of time as my deadline was lea than 24 hours away.

In Highlands, Auntie Hilda had cooked lovely traditional food. I decided to finish my writings first before I ate anything. When I sat down in the dining room to write, it was 1pm. An hour later, I had written one small paragraph and started feeling hot and cold. As a person who has always had recurring chest pains, I always moved around with pain killers. I took two pain killers and decided to lie on the couch.

Steven, Auntie Hilda’s caretaker walked into the house after his lunch break and found out that I had not eaten. He came into the lounge and tried to wake me up. On seeing me, he gasped, “Ambuya, you are looking very ill, what are going to do?” I told him I wanted to continue sleeping and only be woken up when the driver, whom I had called before napping had arrived.

The driver was running errands, so he only got to Highlands at 5pm. He insisted that I needed to go to hospital as I could no longer walk properly. I insisted on going home. The driver literally carried me into my car (his car is a truck), called my Mum and drove me home. Mum came and without so much as a conversation, asked Sisi and her husband to carry me to the car and we went to see a Doctor, a neurologist who is family. After reluctantly inspecting me (he is much younger. In our culture he is my Dad and I am his daughter. I felt the awkwardness of him doing a thorough check on me), he prescribed some medication, which we bought and went home.

I was home alone with the helpers. The rest of my family was away. So, Mum refused to sleep anywhere but in my bedroom on the couch. The couch is not wide enough for her tall body and it is uncomfortable to sleep on the whole night. Mum has had arthritis for the longest and is in constant pain. I was now worried about her, the sickling, looking after me, the sick.

On realizing that I had not eaten the whole day, Mum cooked some butternut soup and force fed me. When had finished, I ran to the loo and it all came out. I did not sleep that night. I was in the loo 80% of the time. Every time I awoke, Mum was up too. As a retired nurse, she quickly made an oral rehydration solution which I started drinking to reduce dehydration and loss of water and nutrients from the body’s tissues.

In the morning I looked haggard and weather beaten. Mum insisted we go to hospital. I refused. I refused because I did not have medical aid in Zimbabwe and feared being ripped off by the private hospitals. I had medical aid in South Africa. I think I was now suffering from a mind fog of sorts because it did not register to me until 3am the following morning at which point I sent my Johannesburg travel agent an urgent message to organize me a ticket for Johannesburg without delay. She promptly replied after booking me on the 8.15am flight.

By that time, around 4 am in the morning, I had lost my sense of feeling in all the body parts that deal with ablutions. Soft stool was coming out of my body without even me realizing. It was a sorry sight to be that helpless and sad to see my Mum cleaning after me. The bladder, gone ages ago, was behaving somewhat as it was still able to signal its intention to be relived. With all that happening and Mum needing to bath me first before she bathes herself, we missed the plane. We still arrived at the airport and they could have allowed me in but when the civil aviation attendant who check in people for flights saw me, she remarked, “Ma’am where do you think you are going looking like that?” I said, “To Johannesburg.” She then said, no airline can accept people looking like you for flights. Go to SAA, reschedule your flight and let us see if you will look better for the 1.15pm flight.”

I rescheduled my flight and went to Mum’s house to sleep. Luckily, Mum lives near the airport, so it was not too much of a chore travelling to and from.

I was in the loo for most of the flight and when I landed at OR Tambo, no one was waiting for me. My family was late. When they had heard that I was ill, they did not believe me as they thought it was attention seeking behavior. When you have been ill for a while, with no diagnosis, people around you start thinking that you are a hypochondriac. I waited for 45 minutes moving between the seats by the arrival terminal and the loo in that area next to Vodacom.

When they finally arrived, they found me slumped on the bench with my luggage as a foot stool. I look frail and weak. They apologized profusely and as I was too weak to complain, I asked them to take me straight to Sandton Mediclinic. On arrival at the hospital they started testing for vital signs. One of the tests they did was called the ESR sedimentation rate test which the doctor said was elevated to 10 times higher which was dangerous and was enough justification for them to detain me.

I will not discuss the many tests they did during the week most of which tested negative. I was detained on Sunday night, stayed in hospital for 10 days and discharged on a Tuesday afternoon the following week. On the Friday, the tests came back with a definitive conclusion that the bacteria that was wreaking havoc in my body was clostridium perfringens and staphylococcus aureaus. From Sunday to Friday, this bacterium which they had not zeroed in on yet was antibiotic resistant. I was on a drip antibiotic which kept me alive but was unable to stop the diarrhea. When they changed the medication after the diagnosis that Friday, that is when I started feeling significant changes in my body, with the running tummy beginning to dry up.

Apparently, staphylococcus aureaus produces a toxin that can make people ill and is not killed even when the mince-meat is cooked properly. Also, store bought mince-meat contains a variety of bacteria that can make humans sick and is resistant to drugs used to treat it. That is why, it has been suggested that buyers of mince-meat may want to look at labels that read “no antibiotics,” “grass fed, “organic,” with “grass-fed, organic” being the best labels to go by.

When I was in hospital I sent my neighbor a whatsapp message that I was in hospital in Johannesburg. I also advised her about her about my ordeal with the mince-meat. She did not reply. Two weeks after I got out of hospital, I sent her another message and again she did not reply. To this day she has not addressed this issue.

I told another neighbor, a close friend of hers the story. We both agreed that she would never poison me consciously. So why the nonresponse? The other neighbourhood friend who I shall call Mary Jane, told me that she had spoken with my neighbor who claimed “she did not remember who had cooked the mince-meat. She does not remember if it was her or her helper. She probably thought it was her helper.”

So, did the helper take out the dog mince and replaced it with the real mince-meat which she kept for herself? Why would the helper do this? Did my neighbor not check the quality of the meat before it was delivered to my house? Was the neighbor there when the meat was cooked and delivered? I am not even sure now who delivered the food because I was busy in the kitchen. If my neighbour had done the delivery, she would have come inside the house to say hello. She has never come to my quarters to bring something without coming inside the house.

A couple of years later, I bumped into my neighbour at Sam Levy Shopping Centre. It was such an awkward encounter, I started dripping of sweat from head to toe and she said hello and I managed to mumble a greeting. I was getting ill. She said, “Gloria, you are unwell, try standing in the shade.” She left, unaware that she was the trigger and I stood for a while in the shade then went home.

I will never know what happened to the mince-meat. The truth will never be told. The truth that is hard for me to swallow is losing a friend at this time in my life. At my age, I strive to keep the friends that I have. I have been blessed with amazing friends who are loving, supportive and who show up every time I need them. I try to do the same for them. We had a nice thing going on around in our lane. We had neighbours who were almost like family. When your neighbours are friendly, life is good, when they are your friends, life is better and sweeter. The fact that I could pick up the phone at short notice and ask for assistance is testament to that.

Perhaps it is the expectation from my neighbour that has made this episode linger on longer in my mind. Maybe I should have understood that to err is human. It is the expectation that makes me feel disappointed to this day. This is a very long vent. Be that as it may, the vent has allowed me to look at the matter differently. I had high hopes and expectations and reality did not meet my expectations. It is okay. We often get disappointed not because of what people do (we certainly cannot control that), but because our expectations do not meet reality. When we alter our expectations, something we can control, we start viewing life with a different lens. A lens that says, we must remain in charge of how we react to the things people do to us, things we cannot control. That way, we can control the level of our disappointment. 

When a worker (if she is to blame at all) does misdemeanors that harm a neighbour, you either face the issue and deal with it head on, even if it means terminating her employment. But we get so much used to our workers, we start leaning on them for all things to do with our households. We never want that relationship interrupted. If you are not the one affected, it is easier to let the matter pass and with time, it will be forgotten. I did not forget the poisoning because I was the wounded one. I could have died.

The seriousness of this matter does not bother my neighbour at all. What matters is that, her status quo was not disrupted. My life is less important than maintaining the equilibrium in her household. To that extent, she supported and sanctioned my poisoning because the mince-meat came from her household. I lost what I thought was a great neighbour and friend, but if the truth be told, it is in situations like these, that you gauge the essence of a person. Her value system is crystal clear to me now.          

  

What about me?

Who am I in the maze of labels that society has given me? What about me? Who am I, outside the labeling? These are simple, important and sincere questions which in today’s world might be perceived as a self-serving, selfish and irrelevant.

I was daughter first, a first child. Then I became a sister and a sibling. Soon, at school I became a friend. In my late teens I became a girlfriend, followed by motherhood and then became a wife.

Daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, mother and wife are all social constructs, labels that identify us within a group but most importantly, the labels are given to “guide” us on navigating societal desired behavior at any point in time.

First born. Yes. But I did not choose to be the eldest, yet there has always been an unwritten code of conduct, an overflowing manual of how I am supposed to behave. Why? Because, if you do not show the way, the right way, those who come after you, because of your first born status, will follow your ways good and bad. Really? They will follow my ways and not the parents’ ways. Seriously? When did being first born equaled a familys’ best practice? I thought everyone is born with their very own independent mind with the Creators’ given ability to make informed choices.

This responsibility of “leading the way” is burdensome, tiresome and a heavy load to carry. The conversations are veiled. The remarks are deliberate. The announcements are loud. “You are the eldest, you must be a good example. First born leads the way.” But, quietly I ask, why, because I did not sign up for this. If there was a memo that was sent, the email probably dumped it in the spam folder.

Every child is born into a different family. When I was born, my mental model of “family” were two adults, trying as best as they could, often experimenting to be good parents (because they do not teach you anywhere to be a parent, never mind a good one.) When another child was born, a girl, her mental model of “family” were two parents and a child, who more or less looked like her but just slightly bigger and older.

The second child has to find her own space and voice within this set up. For a first child, at least for me, it did not affect my mental model of “family”. I was told and just accepted that there would be others, AND I would be responsible for them.

For the second child and the rest, the messages are also crystal clear - you must look up to your BIG sister for cues on  “how we do things around here…” So when did I become BIG and where did I learn the cues?

In all our societal given roles, we are expected to behave in particular ways, roles that we were never been taught specific actions and behaviors. Because of this, I was the most smacked child within my family. I resorted to making up the rules as I went along. I created my own rules as a sibling, friend, girlfriend, mother and wife - my own rules and not societies’ rules. Oft times, my rules of coping with society and living my life, have been at variance with those expected from me by my family and society. Short of calling me a deviant, they have often resorted to creating new labels in order to justify to their discomfort, for example, a rebel without a cause, etcetera.

Out of all the labels, the one I have found most uncomfortable is motherhood. It is a blessing but way too overrated. Just because you have a womb and can give birth does not make you a “natural” mother. I love everyone I gave birth to, but many children I have encountered, including my own, do not realize that inside my body, is a person, young at heart with their own mind of “how we should be doing things around here!” And in that space, my space, we are sharing with you my children, when you are home, I am the solution. When I am the solution, for that moment in time, democracy takes a back seat. I have since come to the conclusion that children are at their best, bare foot, with tops off, wearing just hand - washed, ill - fitting, one hundred percent cotton nappies, with thick mucus coming out of their nose, crying for you to pick them up and completely unable to utter a single word!

The truth is, all of the labels, daughter, sister, sibling, girlfriend, wife and mother bother me. They pigeonhole the more in me.

So what about me? What about the person that resides inside the matter you refer to as daughter, sister, girlfriend, mother and wife? Why do families and society at large scoff at engaging the real you, the real McCoy? Why do families and society create their own image of you and then proceed to interact and engage with that figment of their fertile imagination.

I am still standing, always refusing to have the committee of three; me, myself and I, sidelined, in preference for my mirage, an illusion, a mask, fully formed in their own heads.

I stand here triumphantly over the remains of the fallen, who became despondent and weary and eventually ejected their own limb and life from this twisted space, because, they could not bear to be passed over and completely ignored whilst their substitutes, the non-existent but very much alive social constructs of themselves, affirmed.