Online Reporter
Fadzayi Maposah-Correspondent
There is always something happening on public transport. It is a whole story book. No matter how short or how long the journey is, there is always an experience.
This week I had a public transport experience that lasted the whole journey from Simon Muzenda (formerly Fourth) Street bus terminus to Marondera.
When I got into the commuter omnibus, a number of passengers were already seated.
I peeped inside and saw that there was still room at the back seat. I went back to stand on the pavement, waiting patiently for someone to come and occupy the remaining seat at the back so that I could then sit with the three young ladies who were occupying the next row.
The conductor kept saying that we were delaying the departure to Marondera as many of us were waiting outside.
He remarked that chances were high that some people who were still outside would not get a seat.
No-one budged. When one is eyeing a seat in a commuter omnibus, she remains very alert. One side of you would like to hear stories and engage in discussion, but the other part just wants to make sure that the eyed seat remains yours.
Four adults — three females and one male — appeared and they were walking towards the minibus. All the people (including me!), who had placed themselves on high alert, edged closer to the commuter omnibus. It seemed that what the conductor had predicated could actually become true.
A woman walked past the four and went straight into the commuter omnibus. Another lady and I closely followed behind her. Seeing my grey hair, she made way for me to get in. When I was seated, where I had eyed all the time and was settling in, one from the four whom we had thought would take our places, got in. From the conversation at the door, it was revealed that only two of them were going.
The near stampede at the door stopped and people got in. Initially the couple had wanted to sit next each other, but had to change so that the seat could accommodate four. This is one issue that conductors excel at, organising seating arrangements.
Later as we travelled, I learnt that the two were a couple and they were coming from a relative’s funeral.
The woman wore a black dress and black head gear, but that cannot be used to confirm that she had been to a funeral.
One can dress in black even as they go about any other business, and I have since learnt that there are funerals that have dress codes.
I will call her Mai Ruva. From the moment the commuter omnibus departed, she was on her cellphone attending to different issues.
The first call she made was to apologise to someone that she had not been able to return to Marondera on time as promised.
When she called, it was when she indirectly informed all the passengers that she had been to a funeral and was travelling with Baba Ruva. She went on to explain that she would attend to their issue the next day. She made other calls, and then told Baba Ruva that she had run out of time and asked to use his phone.
That is when she indirectly told us that she was Mai Ruva.
I am sure she had heard the response on the other side and then it had clicked that the person had no idea who they were talking to.
She quickly informed the person on the other side: “Ndini Mai Ruva” (it is Mai Ruva) and then went on to talk about a “deal” that she had not been able to complete as she had to attend to a funeral.
Through her calls, we also heard that she had a relative in hospital and that she had to make arrangements to make time to visit her “as it is important to balance family relationships”.
On one of her many calls on the 75km stretch, she was checking on what was being cooked at home.
She must have been informed that there were no onions as she was quick to tell the person she was calling to talk to (name called out) and borrow US$1 for onions that she would return as soon as she got home. All I can say is she was busy on her phone, and as far as she was concerned, none of her calls could wait. I suspect she may have also used up all of Baba Ruva’s airtime too!
As I sat in that commuter omnibus and looked out through the window, Mai Ruva’s stories broke the silence in what could have been a very quiet commuter omnibus as it did not have a functional radio.
Mai Ruva has an incredible gift of gab. At the back of my mind though I wondered how far she could go if someone with a very personal issue had called her?
She did not receive any calls though. She was the one calling. I tried to imagine what would have happened if relative had called her and said she was finally pregnant after a long time.
Mai Ruva would probably then go ahead and celebrate in the commuter omnibus while mentioning the relative’s name, acknowledging that indeed the wait had been long! It got me thinking.
What phone etiquette is appropriate in a public space?
If one should call, is it not appropriate to inform the one who has called to call later if it is not an emergency?
Just how much should we trust the ones we call because there are those who put calls on speakerphone when in public? #Heroes Month
