Tales from Zingwangwa

Welcome to what is yet another personal article from Richie Online. I was so poised to do some serious business writing coming from my response to your birthday messages. Of particular interest are the issues of the elections with candidates who we thought were good exposing their evil traits as we push closer to elections; mudslinging, collapsing podiums, leaked audios, violence and every other thing you have heard. Also in the air is the issue of the case of the murder of the person with albinism which is in the courts right now. All that is worth our attention and I am pretty sure that a section of the Richie Online community was expecting that from the author. That, however is not the case. Apologies.

I may not have mentioned it to some of you but I have now moved to Zingwangwa from the beautiful suburb of Mandala. Yes. I know. I can read the minds of some of you who are saying that this is like moving from the Champions League to relegation overnight. There were circumstances that led to this sort of migration and downgrade. On the other hand, I am enjoying the new place despite missing the views of the Clock Tower which I used to have when I sat on my balcony in those two years at the Brookside flats.

I moved to the flats back in 2017 when I was one of those young doctors who literally drive Queen Elizabeth Central Hospital. Being a lucky and poky intern, I managed to get a flat in Mandala in the name of the hospital and if I am honest, this is not something I was legally entitled to (morally, I was).  When I finished my internship and moved into a jobless phase, I was at the mercy of those who run the houses and I could have been kicked out. Luckily enough, I was not and I continued to stay there despite being under pressure from my dad to move out (my old man follows etiquette).

When I was finally financially ready to move out of Mandala, it was close to two years since I had been in a house hunt. To be fair, I had not had it difficult to find a house. My first one belonged to a workmate at the hospital and I found the second one (which was a guest wing) through a friend. Until this time, I had not gone through the hustles of going online or knocking doors of offices for houses. I was in it now.

A few weeks into the hunt for a smart and affordable house, I bumped into one friend to whom I shared the challenge I was facing. He quickly shared a phone number of a guy who knew of a house in the prime location of Chitawira. That was music to my ears and I called the guy right away. It turned out that the guy was an agent and he was advertising a house that was yet to be completed. Since I was in no hurry and I got assurances from the owner that the house was going to be completed in the next few weeks, I signed up for it and coughed up a seven figure some to pay for two months rentals. Months passed by. The house was almost completed but what was lacking was one vital thing I couldn’t live with; electricity. I could explain on how all this came about but I am not too sure I want to go the route of stepping on some influential people’s toes. My money was later returned safely back into my account and two months after I thought I had secured a house, I was back under the same pressure of a house hunt.

Resumption of the house hunt gave me an encounter with a different type of agents and house owners. While the previous one I had encountered were friendly and affordable, the ones I met on this round of the hunt were rather unconventional, versatile and hostile. Agents first. I am pretty sure that a good chuck of the people who read these articles have not been through the hustles of house hunting so I will just put it out here. When an agent shows you a house, you typically have to part with MK5000. Sometimes you don’t even get to see the inside of the house and all they do is to point to the house. “Umumu asamukamo sabata la mawa” and just like that, your money is gone. Then there are the house owners. I am not too sure as to where this whole thing of paying for a house for three months came from but there are others who have taken it a step further. For some land lords and ladies, three months is not enough and they want to make you pay for as long as six months. You read that right. The combining of agent and house owner nuisance led to some repeated circular movements in the house hunt and when I finally managed to meet an honest agent and owner, I was so tired so much so that I settled for the place I am operating from now in Zingwangwa. Mbali ya ku 7 doors kumagulitsidwa kachasu ndi matokoso kuja.

When people heard of the place I was about to start calling home, I got mixed reactions with more towards the negative side. On the positive side, a good number of friends like the fact that I was going to move closer to their places and that I was going to be closer to work (the places are almost equidistant to my desk, in my discernment). On the negative side, my boss and a few others felt like a person of my status shouldn’t live in Zingwangwa (and I understand them). For others, the big worry was the proximity to places like Kabila Tavern, Stereo and Zodetsa (not so sure of what people have heard about me). My big worry, however was the noise that I thought would be coming from the surroundings on top of the inconsistencies in the water and power supply.

On Saturday the 4^th of May, I packed my belongings and left Mandala for Zingwangwa. There were a number of differences right from the moment we turned off the main road. It was a bumpy ride and right away I knew that I had left the comfort of a nice drive home whenever I had the opportunity of a lift. And then I came to the house. This was a brick-fenced house with a lockable metal gate. I felt like a caged bird because I had been living with no walls surround the house for close to three years. A fence is something I am still adjusting to a week down the line.

I would have loved to talk so much about the reception I got from the neighbors who also happen to own the house I am in, but we could make another article for that. All you need to know is that they have been nice to me and they understand the balance between being available for each other and giving each other space. That is so brilliant.

While I was so worried about possible noise from the pubs, the few days I have stayed in Zingwangwa have taught me that the pubs shouldn’t be a big worry. I probably underestimated the distance between the noise spots and my house but I cannot complain about noise from any drinking joint. With the likes of Pemphero Mphande campaigning for a parliamentary seat, however, there have been a lot of people moving with public address systems and music, drumming support for parliamentary candidates. Another surprising source of noise has been events venues and churches. I do understand when I hear noise from Miracle Gardens on a Saturday or a Sunday. What I don’t get, however is me having to endure the sound of a keyboard from a church on a weekday evening. I am not saying that praying or singing for God is wrong, but I think it is high time people got reasonable and made the sound equipment in their church about making the music and sermons audible, as opposed to disturbing to unconcerned people. Imeneyi takamba, takamba basi.

One other decision I made upon moving to Zingwangwa was that I was going to throw the minibus away and switch to walking to work. Good health choice, right? Yeah. It is. The thing about it is that based on my new schedule, I have to wake up around 4:30, prepare for work and then saddle up and brisk walk to the College of Medicine Sports Complex where I do my morning workout and shower before work. Around that time, it is not easy to get a minibus and it is not unusual to see people walking around. Another peculiar thing you see is that after every few meters you see people in sports gear jogging off their fat or stress.

When I was walking to the complex one of these days, I met one young lady. From afar, the short blouse that was revealing her belly button and her tight pants coupled with the way she was running made her look like one of those joggers. Something, however, looked a little off about her. The pace was unusually fast and she was taking shortcuts which was unusual for someone going for a morning jog. As she passed by, I realized that the attire was more suited for something else but not sports. This was probably someone who was knocking off from some trade and rushing home or some student rushing home to prepare for classes after a wild night out. Not so important, but I thought you might want to know the things I see when I walk to and from home in my new place. Ku Mandala kunalibe zimenezi.

One Felix Gent once said that the only thing people of Blantyre are capable of putting together is traffic. We can't even put together houses and that is why I have ended up living in Zingwangwa. On the other hand, I like my new place. On the next corner there is a place where they sell cooking oil in small plastic bags, tomatoes and eggs. You can literally start cooking nsima when you have no relish and with MK200 you could be set. Some may not like the idea of me being in a ghetto but I think this vibrant place is my type. Unfortunately you are not invited to visit until further notice.

Komabe pa 21 May tikavote.