I have been silent for a couple of weeks now and some of you boys are now growing iron ones. My name is being whispered in corridors mainly reserved for losers and hopeless cases. Well guess what you uncultured swine, that boy is back like musana and I’m not even trying to make you laugh this time. Go for comedy shows!
I have been trying to really get my shit together. I bet you all know that one room missions are always a struggle. The motto still stands though, ‘Mumba meBoys hamushaike plan!” Having a woman who doesn’t close her trap around has not made things better for me. I’m always medicated these days, just to keep the noise the out because the loose mouthed woman does not give flies a chance to rest on her face.
One can’t even get home and eat this measly Sadza and Soya Chunks meal without hearing an earful of how I was failing to give what I promised her. Woman! I promised you 3 meals per day and a house, although I did not specify what type of meals and the house you would live in. Be content with what you have, Zimbabwe yakaoma.
I have always thought that I am the only one in hot soup. But the look on my landlord’s face every time he comes to collect his rent money tells me the story of my life on fast forward. The constant yelling in his lounge and the barbaric drags he takes when I offer him a cigarette tells me the whole story.
These humans ask to come live with you even if pregnancy is still unchartered territory to them. You agree and they walk into your life acting as if they accept the circumstances. Now she is looking at me with murderous eyes as if I am responsible for her life problems. Get a job honey!
