It’s funny how suddenly hearing an old song can transport us to a different time and place. A bit like childhood smells but we won’t explore that thought any further. And how our appreciation of music develops and changes. I was going to say, “matures” but let’s face it, some of us haven’t. I can clearly remember my music choices being almost exclusively the popular choice of the day – the Neil Diamond record was carefully hidden at the back of the cupboard (even today I wouldn’t easily admit to listening to him) – but then there are Michael Bolton fans ….

I can vividly remember driving around Austria, young and slim (who says alcohol is fattening?), with several beaus of varying potential awaiting my call (it’s true I tell you) and listening to “Antenna Steiermark” (radio station) who had a summer of non-stop rock’n'roll and catchy, upbeat music. The window rolled down, on my way paragliding. Let me tell you that there is a marked difference between running down a slope, and jumping off something – a bridge for instance, or swimming or meeting someone for coffee.  I had all the time in the world.

These days I find myself listening to really crap music because the lyrics are sublime. And also listening to really beautiful music but having no clue what that chap Eros Ramazotti is singing about. The name says it all, Italian crooner, good-looking, macho … yes I have spent some time studying the CD cover.

I dance to DSTV’s contemporary music channel with the kids. Sometimes we pretend we’re a band. We use tennis racquets for guitars, a hairbrush for a microphone and multi-coloured wigs and if dad is lucky we force him to sit through a show. Unrehearsed because we can’t decide on the music in advance, so inevitably no one knows the words. It must be a bit painful to be on the receiving end.

Come to think of it he never sits through more than 3 songs so I don’t feel too bad.

Late yesterday morning, I got an SMS from the MDC announcing an MP feedback meeting in Harare that evening. Finance Minister Tendai Biti, co-Home Affairs Minister Theresa Makone, Minster of State in the PM’s Office Jameson Timba and Deputy Justice Minister Obert Gutu were slated to attend.

Coincidentally our newsletter headline that same morning had been “Seen your MP lately?” And when I got the SMS, I was pleased with this example of Ministers making themselves available to the public.

But I was also frustrated to have gotten the announcement at such short notice – which made it harder to share with others and encourage more people to attend. But I put it up on Twitter and Facebook in the hopes of inspiring at least a bit of participation – only to learn later that it had been cancelled, at even shorter notice.

Nine people attended, the speakers never appeared, and one of the participants finally phoned a different MP, who told them the meeting had been cancelled.

So why announce a meeting you don’t intend to have? And why announce with such little turn around time that hardly anyone hears about it and even fewer people can attend? It left me cynical and sceptical. Do the MDC Ministers actually want to be seen – and heard, and to see their constituents and hear what they might want to say? That is do they actually want to deliver or receive the feedback? Or do they just want the kudos of being seen to engage the public, without any of the hard work of actually having to organise, listen, or discuss?

I’ve just received an email newsletter from a Harare based travel agent saying that the Harare International Airport will “boast” Africa’s longest runway by December as Zimbabwe seeks to lure major international airlines. Apparently the extra 5ks of runway is costing US$30 million. Meanwhile I’ve heard of yet another incident of travellers on their way home from the airport being targeted and assaulted by thieves. I mean I just Don’t Get It. The Civil Aviation Authority of Zimbabwe pulls out all the stops to increase the length of our runway but the fact that returning residents and visitors to Zimbabwe get robbed and assaulted once they’ve landed doesn’t seem to faze them. What they need to do is work hand in hand with the Zimbabwe Republic Police and increase patrols on the main airport road to stop these criminals having a field day.

People queuing for water, and carts carrying firewood, are now an everyday sight in the town of Chitungwiza. Chitungwiza gets the bulk of its water supply from the City of Harare but with the recent erratic water supply experienced by the capital city, a negative and severe impact can now be felt by the residents of Chitungwiza. Clean water, which is a basic necessity for everyone, is now a luxury for some residents. People have had to resort to digging shallow wells after going for weeks, if not months, without running water.  Residents now fear that the cholera pandemic, which caused havoc in 2008, is set to come back if the city fathers of Chitungwiza take their time getting their act together to resolve their differences with the City of Harare. To ease the burden a bit, UNICEF in conjunction with some NGOs, managed to drill a few boreholes in the town but since the demand for water has risen sharply, only a few can access clean water from the water-points.

To make matters worse, the pathetic electricity supply from Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority has created a scenario, which leaves one wondering if Chitungwiza is a town or rural area. Residents now resort to using firewood. Others, who can afford it, use gas or paraffin. Customer satisfaction from ZESA is now a thing of the past as residents only get electricity supply during the night or for less than 8 hours per day. No explanation or apologies for the inconvenience caused is given and the only thank you residents get is disconnection for non-payment and tariff hikes. During the Zim dollar era Chitungwiza Town Council and ZESA used to hide behind the forex shortage to cover up for their service delivery shortcomings. However now that forex is in abundance, clear signs of incompetence and poor administration are evident.

Life
September 2011

Already the temperatures have hit 30 degrees C
the days get longer as dusk and dawn stretch golden fingers into the dark

Spring

warm air wraps us in its silken cloak as we sit on the veranda at night

still two months before the rains…

but life is everywhere

full buds at the tips of dry branches
waiting for the day when the risk to remain
tight-wrapped
is more painful than the risk to blossom

with extraordinary individuality
each tree chooses its own time to face this new birthing
patient with their own calling

sifting through the  Rue flowers
a bee gathers pollen
grain by grain

I’ve noticed around Harare the billboard above advertising The Herald: News packaged to your taste. And I’ve been wondering if it is actually a terribly clever subversive undermining of the state media by whomever they hired to do their marketing. Because I don’t know about you but the image used – a crusty day-old bread roll, a bit of polony, some wilted lettuce and a few slices of that tasteless, processed, pre-sliced, plastic orange stuff that tries to pass as cheese – doesn’t exactly leave me salivating to by my latest copy of The Herald and tuck right in. But then again, I’ve always found The Herald pretty tasteless – in both senses of the word.