‘Every single day I’ve been in UK is accounted for’

Social media sensation, Oliver Keith Siamuloboka popularly known for his comic role of NaJesca has shared his experience in the UK after relocating there last year.

The comedian who has not been active on social media, in a heartfelt post on his Facebook page last week, shared how he has been ensuring that all the money he earns there is put to good use as he is building a house for his mother back in Zimbabwe.

Oliver said although some friends have been advising him not to be too hard on himself and live a little, he cannot afford to “fluff around”. He said he has been keen to ensure that his mum lives a better life as the first thing that comes to mind when he receives a bank notification “is bricks and cement”.
Below is Oliver Keith’s narration of his experience.

“There’s a Shona proverb I grew up reciting, but never fully understood its meaning until I became an adult. ‘Totenda maruva tadya chakata,’ translated to ‘we will believe in the blossoms when we have eaten the fruits.’

My dad would often say, ‘mwanangu talk doesn’t cook rice’. Equally mum would say ‘chinogova ruoko mwanangu, muromo hawugovi’.

These proverbs when translated to isiNdebele mean “Sizayicel’ isivuthiwe” kumbe “sizakholwa ngokubona”. I stand corrected. A promise is a cloud, and fulfilment is rain. A communications lecturer once said to me: “Between saying and doing, many a pair of shoes is worn out”.

Many may wonder why I’m acquainted with some rich Shona proverbs, or how I ended up with a great command of the language when I’m born of a Ndebele mother. Throughout my childhood, we had Shona landlords, and when mum was away emsikeni/kumusika or emakethi, or somewhere in Trenance, or emaplazini buying vegetables to resell, she would leave my siblings and me in the care of our landlords, who cared for us as if we were their own children.

I moved here (UK) on September 22nd last year, and I can assure you that every single day I’ve been in this country is accounted for. Furthermore, every single penny I’ve made can be accounted for. This is vital to me because as earlier mentioned in my previous post a month or so ago, I cannot afford to fluff around. The time to make mistakes isn’t there.

I watched my mother stretch that red $10 note back in the day to ensure that it sustained us for a while, to the point of her tying her Bata sandals or osebele using wire, just so my siblings and I could go to bed with food in our tummies.

I know everything about sacrifices because I have seen them first-hand. I would eat half my sandwich at school and leave the other half for my mum, and before getting home I would pass by emsikeni to give her, because I knew she would be hungry, as she survived on one meal a day, and sometimes none at all, just so we could have.

So I have no problem having one bowl of fruit n fibre cereal as my only meal of the day, right here in the UK, in my quest to empower those I love and help them become better. You will probably think that’s a bit unrealistic considering how ‘cheap’ food is here. Firstly, food isn’t cheap here, well at least not for me, and secondly £5 makes a huge difference to those of us who have nothing but dreams.

I was on a call with a friend who lives in Southampton last week, and he said, ‘Bro, not every pound you make should go towards cement or bricks’. I said to him: ‘On the contrary, every pound I make should go towards improving the lives of my family back home.

If part of that is buying bricks and cement, then that’s how it’ll be.’ Suffice to say, I understood exactly what he meant. However, I had to remind him how different our backgrounds are. You see his parents have three properties in Harare, a farm in Norton, and properties here in England.

That’s not to say that his parents worked harder than mine. They all worked hard, but the dynamics are different, and even the parents have different backgrounds.

He can afford to fly to Turkey or Spain for a holiday every month, or walk into Footlocker and buy £400 trainers, or walk into M&S and buy groceries worth a month, and not even use all of them, because half the time he’s eating out.
I, on the other hand, cannot afford that. The first thing that comes to mind when I get a                      bank notification is bricks and cement.

In the nine months I’ve been in the UK, I have learnt to discipline myself and to never walk the path of those who have been here for 20 years, and never compare myself to those who came here because oh well, they were just trying it out. I’m not trying out anything. I have to make it work. Ekhaya babheke mina. I’m turning 37 in two weeks. So God forbid if ever I attempt to walk on someone’s path.

So as you strive to better yourself, please remember to look back at where you come from, and honour the sacrifices your parents have made. Remember, if you die today your mother won’t have any options. You’re irreplaceable. Sit down and have uncomfortable conversations with yourself. Please don’t toss these conversations aside.

I had hoped by winter (Zim winter) I would have completed mum’s house, however, due to unseen circumstances such as the passing of my father, I still haven’t completed it. I still hold unswervingly to the hope I profess day and night, for He who promised is faithful.

I’ll be turning a year older on June 28. I am grateful for this gift of life that can be easily taken away from us. I don’t take it for granted. It will probably be a lonely birthday. I accept that with peace. It’s been such a roller coaster of emotions to the point that I even forgot I love cheesecake. This life! I wouldn’t mind a slice. Surprise me, dear friends.

Please continue to look out for one another, and make peace with everyone around you. I will be disappearing again for a while. These things take time. Talking to you here on this platform once in a while (like this) does help.
Cheers.”