Online Reporter
Liberty Dube
Entertainment Correspondent
CHRISTMAS morning at the communal lands around Matimba Business Centre, about 30 kilometres outside Mutare, arrived gently wrapped in birdsong, cool dew and distant hum of anticipation.
Before the sun fully lifts itself above the rolling hills, smoke was already curling into the sky from scattered homesteads, signalling the start of a day that belonged, not to clocks, but to people, family and tradition.
By mid-morning, the usually quiet dust roads were alive with movement. Some arrived on foot, others packed into pickup trucks, scotch carts and the occasional elderly sedan resurrected from years of rest in backyard sheds.
These vintage cars, polished just enough to shine, ferried elders with quiet pride, their engines coughing, but determined to be part of the celebration.
Children trailed behind barefooted and laughing, clutching plastic toys and packets of sweets, their faces already smeared with dust and joy.
The air was thick with flavour.
Braai stands sprung up everywhere outside tuckshops, under Msasa trees and beside makeshift stalls.
Beef sizzled loudly over open flames as fat dripped and crackled, while pots of offals bubbled patiently nearby, releasing rich aromas that pulled people closer.
Goats bleated briefly before being ushered into pots, chickens flapped and protested before becoming centrepieces of family meals.
In some homesteads, the ultimate declaration of festivity unfolded, the slaughtering of a whole beast.
Men worked methodically, women prepared fires and spices, and children watch wide-eyed, absorbing rituals that have survived generations.
Music became the invisible thread tying everything together.
From morning until late, sound systems competed and conversed across Matimba Business Centre.
Old school classics dominated the early hours, their familiar rhythms settling comfortably into the festive air.
Leonard Dembo’s soulful melodies drifted across open spaces, followed by Leonard Zhakata’s heartfelt storytelling.
Gakamoto Jumbo Stars and the Wrights Brothers injected bounce and nostalgia, turning dusty clearings into impromptu dance floors.
Elders nod knowingly, some breaking into measured steps, while the younger generation learnt the moves through laughter and imitation.
As the afternoon wore on, the soundtrack shifted seamlessly into the present. This year’s hit songs that dominated the airwaves found their way into the festive rhythm.
Donator Calvins’ Door Ratovharwa echoed repeatedly from competing sound systems, instantly pulling dancers to their feet.
Nutty O’s Too Much followed with infectious ease, while Nisha Ts’ Admire Kadembo added playful, sing-along charm.
As the sun dipped lower, Winky D’s Drink Up became an unofficial anthem, perfectly capturing the carefree spirit of Christmas as bottles clinked and laughter grew louder.
Jah Prayzah’s Ruzhowa, Sori and Necessary enjoyed heavy rotation, sending both young and old into spirited dance.
Old and new blended effortlessly, creating a generational bridge where yesterday’s legends and today’s stars shared the same dusty dance floor.
Gospel music also found its place.
Dorcas Moyo’s uplifting songs rose above the chatter, reminding revellers of the spiritual heart of the season.
People swayed gently, some closing their eyes, others lifting hands briefly in praise before returning to conversation and celebration. It was joy without contradiction — faith and festivity sharing the same breath.
Fashion had its moment too.
The business centre was transformed into an open runway of expression and aspiration.
Fake Gucci belts gleamed proudly, colourful dresses flared in the sun, and designer-inspired shoes kicked up the dust with confidence.
Christmas is the one day when everyone steps out as their best version, stitched together by effort, patience and pride.
For many, these outfits have been planned for months, hidden away until this morning. By afternoon, the scene was a mosaic.
Groups gathered around cool boxes and crates, laughter flowing easily.
Some danced with reckless freedom, others sat under trees debating football, politics or the year that was.
Children weaved between cars and stalls, occasionally stopping to beg for money, meat or fizzy drinks.
Not all moments are perfect.
As alcohol flowed and egos brushed against each other, a few minor scuffles broke out — quickly noticed and swiftly defused.
Shouting briefly replaced music, but calm returned just as fast.
Here, Christmas carries its own unwritten rules: fights are discouraged, grudges postponed.
Peace, even if imperfect, prevails.
As evening approached, the light softened, painting the land in gold and amber. Smoke hung low, roasted meat clanged to clothes and hair, and conversations deepened.
Elders retreated earlier, their day fulfilled, while the younger crowd gathered fresh energy for the night.
Darkness does not end the celebration — it transforms it.
Under the stars, the area felt vast yet intimate.
Laughter carried farther, music became hypnotic, and one by one, revellers begun thinning out.
Some staggered home singing, others were guided gently by friends.
Fires died down, bottles empty, and dust finally settled.
The last man dropped well after midnight, slumped on a bench near a closed shop, shoes kicked off, and head tilted towards the quiet sky.
Around him, the land exhaled. What remained was a rare stillness — peaceful, satisfied, and complete.
Christmas and Boxing Day at Matimba Business Centre are not about extravagance.
They are about belonging — shared meals, shared music and shared memory. It is beauty without polish, happiness without pretence, and a tranquillity that lingers long after the final song fades into the night.
