Ghetto Blast: Fees, poverty: Birds of a feather

You may also get a clearer understanding of the word if you see someone desperately selling something, somewhere to raise fees for the children.
Whenever a new school term opens, people slip into selling mode.
Fruits, plastics, old furniture, accident-damaged vehicles and even human beings are placed on the market as people grapple to cope with the animal called school fees.
Livestock also bear the brunt.
Mombe, huku, mbudzi zvinoona nhamo nekute-ngeswa.
Employers are not spared too.
Loan application forms will flood the general manager’s office with people faking funerals and illnesses within their families to access cash.
“Imba yakarohwa nemheni mauro, muchembere achibva angofuga rake oga. Dai ndawana yebhokisi chete nekuti ndini ndakatomirirwa kumusha uko,” you hear general managers being lied to.
“If I don’t get this loan, my family will suffer. I need to fix this problem as early as yesterday,” those with a bit of education say, though this does not erase the fact that they are borrowing to pay fees for the children.
Borrowing is borrowing no matter how flowery the language you use may be.
Kukwereta kukwereta chete!
Unreasonable relatives are sure to knock at your door asking for this and that assistance oblivious to the fact that you are also wading through a rough patch.
A good number of people are not answering their phones these days for fear of being troubled or being made to choke under the weight of debts that have very little to do with them.
Hapana anoda nhamo yemumwe.
Dinosaurs are now extinct because they failed to adapt to the changing tide and a human being is no better.
It’s risky to want to be associated with that which is not yours, especially problems.
This is the time when people usually get their electricity and water supplies disconnected for non-payment of bills.
If a distant relative dies, most people will continue with life as if nothing has happened and proceed to blame the bearer of the sad news: “Ko seiko vasina kunditaurira.
“I am sorry for the loss, but next time we should inform each other whenever calamity strikes.”
This is the time of the year when your girlfriend gives you half-hearted thank you if you fail to leave her cash enough to buy a kilogramme of beef.
Grown up relatives will even demand cash for lunch when they clearly want to divert the same to their children’s fees.
“Nhasi unotonditengera kokokora chete muzukuru,” they will say while dipping their hands in your pocket as if they occasionally keep their monies there.
It can be worse if you cannot use coarse and unpolished language like the writer of this honest piece.
People are eating all sorts of things just to keep body and soul together after spending all they had on fees.
And schools have not made the situation any better.
A good number of these places, better known as mabharabhadzo in deep Shona, have increased their fees and are not accepting anyone seeking to pay in installments.
“No credit. Pay in full,” read a notice on the entrance to a school in Harare, while the other screamed: “No Form One places. Ensure you have receipts for all payments.”
Guards manning the entrances are wearing wild faces that will probably need a surgical operation to remove once everyone complies.
Varikupfeka fesi dzebere kutyisa varombo.
A good number of parents are yet to pay.
They have to put up with the situation of their children asking almost hourly whether or not they will successfully make it to school.
“Manje vamwe vatofamba nebhora. Ndinoenda riini kuchikoro? Please do something for me,” I felt pity hearing a young boy asking his widowed mother.
Staying with a child of school-going age at home when others are in class is cruel.
But what can one do when everyone clearly sees that costs have risen sharply while an ordinary worker was last paid mid-December.
This is the time of the year when you receive phone calls from that woman you once fell in love with demanding fees for the illegitimate child.
You are also lucky to escape without being slapped or yanked to court for failure to comply.
Hurombo hunosungisa.
There also seems to be something very wrong with headmasters this time around.
These guys are nowhere to be seen.
You can visit the school and offer to wait until he reports for duty, but still fail to see him.
In this life we lead, if you see someone looking for the headmaster you know fully well that they want to negotiate or ask for a special favour.
“Nowadays you won’t find me at work. Try me after monthend because most people want to ask not to pay fees and I just cannot do that. Some of these parents are violent and I just stay away to ensure I remain safe,” a certain headmaster confided in this writer.
He said women of loose morals were visiting his office this time of the year to have their children, those of their brothers and other acquitances accepted at school without paying anything.
Some men were also treating school heads to amounts of beer in exchange for their children’s admission without paying a dime.
The relationship between being a headmaster and corruption is so close, I didn’t know.
Plumbers, electricians, technicians and all people dealing with educational supplies and any other consumables associated with schools are also after the headmaster.
They want to be included on the list of the school’s suppliers so that they make money until the end of the year.
Wading through a month like this one is tricky, take care not to do that which invites restricted freedom.
Pay fees and wait until the pocket recovers for another dance in the sun. Patimire pakaoma.