The first couple of rain storms happened this week and already the sometimes slightly unfriendly pot holes have already become yawning craters. Time to get your gravel out.

The other morning I saw a water bowser delivering water to a company on Rhodesville Ave. Not sure if he was killing time, or what, but the driver of the bowser took the opportunity to water (more like a tsunami) the lawn on the verge. Wasting water even while the taps are dry.

Picture this: an ordinary passenger car waiting patiently to turn right onto Glenara from Grosvenor. Two kombis behind it can’t wait their turn. The kombis are full of commuters. One kombi cuts round the car to its left to get ahead. The other kombi cuts round on the right to get ahead. What the fuck is the matter with these pricks? Apparently kombi drivers in Bulawayo are getting public relations training. How about they all learn how to drive properly.

The Sunshine Zimbabwe Project is a division of Silver Linings Trust offering vocational training and employment for adults and adolescents with special needs aged 18 years and above. The youths are trained in gardening, cooking, craft work, and ICT’s among other projects. Products, which they make for resale, include jam, craft and bead work, sunshine bags and other accessories made from recycled materials. The pictures shared in this blog are from a recent Open Day held by the Sunshine Zimbabwe Project at their offices in Borrowdale.

Imagine getting into a kombi and being treated like a human being for once, receiving a friendly smile, or the kombi starting to move only once you have secured a place to seat and are seated. Well believe it or not, the City Council of Bulawayo is trying to achieve this. They have ordered ‘hwindis’ to have training courses in public relations and customer care. Another improvement in our kombi ride experiences in local cities and towns, is being brought on by EcoCash the bank run by Econet Zimbabwe. They are introducing EcoCash services to the transport sector. This means commuter users get to pay their kombi fares using EcoCash.

Saturday
I can’t sleep. It comes from dodding off mid-afternoon in front of the TV like a geriatric, complete with drool and gentle snore and ensuing loss of control of the neck muscles. My closed eyes were rudely prised open about an hour later by little, sticky, bored, fingers. Now I lie here harrumphing and unable to settle comfortably. I place my foot on Graham’s back and push, gently at first, and then with more oomph – because I’m bored too you understand and I want someone to play with. I giggle to myself, pleased with my mischief and because he’s tickling the offending foot. Poor bugger has to wake up at the usual time for work tomorrow.

Sunday
I broke my toe. At least I think it’s broken but it’s hard to tell. I am reluctant to wiggle it despite all the encouragement I am getting from my family. It’s the little one, right next to the baby toe, and it’s turning blue and purple and growing into a fat, short sausage. It didn’t have a great deal of movement to start with, not like Houdini who was apparently able to thread a needle with his toes – a skill which, when added to his ability to pick up a needle using his eyelashes, helped tremendously with getting him out of those prickly positions he found himself in. Anyway, the broken toe is a result of trying to move heavy equipment with it, and at speed – no Zumba on Tuesday then.

Thursday
I find myself sitting in the dentist’s chair, although sitting is not the best word. My buttocks are tightly clenched, my hands are white-knuckled gripping the armrests, and my feet are tense. Even the hair on my legs is bristling. I haven’t shaved – summer can be so tiresome. She tells me to open my mouth and I follow the directive with reluctance and a little difficulty because my jaw is rather stiff. 15 minutes of general chitchat follow as she distracts me from myself. Long story short, the last of my wisdom tooth was extracted fairly painlessly after the surprise attack of anesthetic. Only a minor cracking of the jawbone due to stubbornly bent root, nothing to worry about …

Friday
Having read this you probably think I’ve had a shit week. But you’d be wrong. It’s been fun. Full of life. And the stuff that happens when you have other things planned.

In June this year, overweight Pakistan policemen were told to trim down their waistlines or quit their jobs within a month. Reading this story made me wonder if Zimbabwe will ever order this to their uniformed forces. On many occasions I must admit I have seen overweight police officers with straining buckles, especially at roadblocks. Will our ‘overweight’ officers ever be told to lose weight?

There is also a fable told by Phaedrus, about how Simonides was once a victim of shipwreck. As the other passengers scurried about the sinking ship trying to save their possessions, the poet stood idle. When questioned, he declared, mecum mea sunt cuncta: everything that is me is with me. – Anne Carson, Economy of the Unlost, via browsery