There is a lot positive to be said about the changing of the seasons, it’s just that it doesn’t all “spring” (ha ha, weak I know) to mind immediately.  I am under attack by the dust and pollen and bush fires and other rubbish in the air.  The glaring sun, with its almost white light, is less than flattering for everyone, particularly after the winter months. We emerge with all our dents and dimples on display.  By midday, all the hairspray has evaporated with the sweat (not that I use hairspray – not enough hair). We are limp, with damp patches under our arms, shiny faces and the energy God gave a sloth.  Everyone in Europe associates spring with green. Here everything is brown, and dry – even the horizon is dyed with dust.

The birds of course, have returned from wherever they went (at least I don’t pretend any great knowledge), and their chirping is cheerful first thing in the morning – only drowned out by calls of “Moooom, I can’t find my school shoes!”.

And then total silence by lunchtime as everything pants in the shade.  All creatures are preparing for the next round of babies (imagine having to go through that each year??) and the weaver over my swimming pool is industriously stripping the palms for nesting material. Poor bugger continues despite the repeated rejection – he has built 3 already this season; at least, those are ones that survived her ladyship’s onslaught. I put water out just for him, to help him through the heat and encourage him.  Aaah.

The pool is back in play, which is a blessing for all mothers.  The children can jump and splash and play and then collapse in an exhausted heap at the end of the day, happy to be in bed, no arguments, asleep before you finish the story.

Perfect.

Schools are feeding silk worms and studying the renewal of nature this term.  Just in time, Daniel inherited an ant farm from a friend – we spent much of Monday afternoon trying to catch ants – the still air was pierced with delighted squeals “I got one mom”, only to be followed by disappointment when he realized he’d squashed it or rubbed its legs off trying to brush it into the container. Many ants met their ends (no pun intended) that afternoon.  I sat on the driveway with 2 leaves trying to outmaneuver the little devils, but didn’t have great luck either. One of mine drowned in a drop of water in the container (hello??), one just escaped all by himself, and I let the other 2 go in frustration; after all, two does not a colony build – especially 2 males.

So we left a jar out, on its side, with some sugar water in it, hoping that morning would bring a whole little colony for Daniel.  Not.  The dogs, probably Mac – of boundless energy and mischief, had partaken of sugar water and whatever ants we may have garnered in the night. When I opened the kitchen door, there she was grinning and bouncing and wagging her tail, as if to say “come see, come see what I did”.  I was a little put out to observe the meandering line of marching ants, trailing sugar from the bowl in the kitchen away and down and eventually out into the sunshine. Ha!  I’m not sure how I am going to solve this one, suffice to say it will involve the ants in the kitchen and sugar … possibly the gardener will be roped in … it will be a cunning plan – after all, my trustworthiness, and hero status in the eyes of my son are on the line here.

While standing in queues at either Fourth Street or by Copacabana I’ve often wondered what combi ranks are like in other countries. I was in Cape Town a few days ago, and had occasion to use the combis there.  I was surprised to find that the combi rank was not in some out of the way place, out of view of tourists and visitors to the city, but rather on the roof of a train station, right next to a busy main road. I was even more surprised to find that rather than the pushing and shoving that makes the Zimbabwean combi experience unpleasant, people stood in short orderly queues waiting for their combi to come. No pushing or shoving or shouting or being pulled by whindis. We still have a lot to learn.

So this Sata[n] guy is now Zambian president. But we can see where this is going. He is the “opposition” guy who during this presidential bid slammed the “opposition” guy of another country, and we obviously wondered what his priorities were, whether he had run out epithets for Rupiah Banda, the then Zimbabwean Zambia president. And we obviously have to ask what this will mean about Tsvangirai trying to rally or engage other SADC leaders in his long stand-off with Mugabe. Can we expect Tsvangirai to have Sata’s ear? Maybe he will have it [the ear] for a bit of wringing like they do those bratty kindergarten kids, for that’s exactly how the new president was behaving in the run-up! But then it must be remembered this Sata guy was being advised not to stand for election because of his apparently failing health.

It’s already being asked about the political implications of voting for a guy whose “tenure” on earth is already under close scrutiny not by his opponents but his physicians! But then the history of post-independence African politics has plenty of these ailing old men who imagine themselves to be agile Herculeses imagining they can withstand the rigours of the rough political terrain known in these rather cruel parts. Recall that old fool Kamuzu Banda falling and failing to use his reflexes that had been slowed by old age and hitting his mouth on the hard earth? He still insisted he was raring to go, “the people still want me,” he said, like someone we know, despite plenty evidence to the contrary even among his very own comrades!

I ain’t no clairvoyant nor a tsikamutanda, but Zambians – and indeed the world – are obviously watching this Sata guy and will soon be asking themselves why the heck they voted for a sick guy for president.

Zimbabwe International Film Festival arrives is on – 30 September – 7 October. Screening venues include Harare Gardens, Alliance Francaise, and the Embassy of Spain Cultural Centre.

Films include:

• An African Election (Ghana, 2010)
• Mama Africa (South Africa, Finland and Germany, 2011)
• The Redemption of General Butt Naked (USA, Liberia, 2010)
• Blood in the Mobile (Denmark, Democratic Republic of Congo, 2010)
• Kinyarwanda (Rwanda, 2011)
• A Small Town Called Descent (South Africa, 2011)
• Sinking Sands (Ghana, 2011)
• Viva Riva (Democratic Republic of Congo, 2010)

Download the programmes here