adminNicholas Mwanaka revisits the syndrome of the small house in Zimbabwe, which portrays how fun loving spouses oppress their partners who have a genuine desire to make their marriage succeed.
The main character in this play is Beauty, who has two children from the fast life which she has learnt in Gweru. She goes on to win the heart of a swashbuckling executive within a year of her moving to Harare.
Joe Mazhanje has three daughters with his wife Anatoria, whom he has banished to his poor home in rural Mhondoro. She regards her elder sister and her husband as her parents following the death of her father and mother. Beauty graces the exquisite mansion in Highlands suburb with her dazzling charm when she moves in to stay with Joe as her poodle.
The play is written in a poetic fashion, whose economy on words makes reading it a refreshing enterprise.
Beauty retains her killer instinct which she imbibed in the low dives of Gweru and Kwekwe. Joe is a fool who thinks that he wins the admiration of the minx by throwing money around like confetti. The artist does well to dispatch minor characters without mercy as they perform no significant role in this play, whose value to the nation is long overdue. He, however, resorts to pudding to lengthen some acts and could have been beefed up introductory notes to some scenes to give them depth.
Joe should have taken his cue from people of old who said shake hands with those you leave behind when you go up so that they will greet you when you come down. The small house works on the playboy with the efficiency of the grandfather clock.
Joe has to have Beauty near him all the time for life to have a meaning to him. This forces him to sustain his superficial lifestyle through illegal deals, which Beauty uses to keep him on the leash.
“Your beauty takes my breath away,” says Joe. “You’re like a star shining on me. I’ve you in my thoughts all day when I’m at work. The love you give me is as deep as the sea. You must have given me the love potion to eat. God gave you the personality which exudes intelligence. I’d die if you left me.”
“H’m! I don’t know!”, answers Beauty, shaking her cloud of black hair. “I don’t know, really. Perhaps you’re saying this to touch my face. I’ve always meant to ask you, love, whether you’re married. I’m asking just in case . . . you know.”
“People know me for telling the truth,” says Joe, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Trust in me, darling. I want to marry you, my angel. I haven’t arranged money for that yet. Give me time.”
“Why did you divorce your wife?”
“I don’t want to bother you with that.”
“That’s mindful of you, Joe. Oh, I’m so happy.”
Joe fails to accept that the wife will always have the laugh on him, if he engages in extra-marital affairs. All playboys would do well to appreciate this fact which is cast in stone. Joe loses his head on Beauty and goes to tell his wife in Mhondoro why she should return to her parents in a fashion which he will regret.
“I told you a year ago that I no longer love you,” he snaps. “You smell in my face. I thought you had gone a long time ago. Somebody who felt pity on me told me only the other day that you’re still here.”
“You haven’t given me the evidence which I’ll show my parents,” says Anatoria. “I don’t know why you no longer love me. You can, if you want, take me back where you found me. You know the way.”
“You’re dirty; you don’t bath; you don’t know town life,” screams the husband. “You bear children like a peasant. I can’t be seen walking with you when you shame me in public. You smell like a pig. Get along with you, braying donkey!”
“How can I fail to waste away when I labour for myself like a widow?” pleads the wife. “I’m now the leader of paupers in this neighbourhood. You can’t even remember when last you gave me money. It should be more than a year and half ago. You laugh at me yet I sweat to get food for your children. You add insult to my misery. I don’t know what to tell people when they ask me where you put the money you earn.”
“Other women who work look young,” spat Joe. “You’re a lazy woman. I don’t want to see you in my house. You might as well get lost, for all I care.”
The CEO is too smart to follow the procedure of returning the poor woman back to her parents. He hands her the letter in which he speaks his mind without mincing his words. Anatoria hopes that Joe will have a change of heart. All hell breaks loose when Beauty reads the letter she writes to her husband. The crisis deepens when the small house wants to stamp her independence and Joe accuses her of being unfaithful.
“I think our love should come to an end,” he says. “We’re wasting each other’s time. My love for you has gone cold. Park your things and leave my home.
“I’ll leave this place in a coffin,” replies Beauty in a cold voice. “I vow by my granny who is lying on the anthill. Do you have a licence to sell rhino horns?!”
“What rhino horns are you talking about?” stutters Joe “Where did you see them? Aside: Oh my God! She shouldn’t have seen them. Oh finish! Beauty, darling, I was joking. Don’t report me to police, please. I’ll marry you and we’ll have a white wedding.”
“I’m tired of hearing you saying the same thing,” shouts Beauty. “There comes a time when I should say enough is enough. Don’t take me for a fool. I’ll believe you when the pot has boiled.”
Beauty, to make her conquest complete, brings her children from rural areas and enrolls them at the primary school in Highlands without consulting Joe. He sees red. Joe spends a month recovering in hospital from wounds that bouncers inflict on him on orders of Beauty, who leaves the mansion with all furniture and two rhino horns. When he is discharged he does what most men do.
The misfortune with most women if that the man they love most is the one who disappoints them. He goes out to have a child with another woman that he will bring home. When she has regained her liberty, the man comes back to her asking for forgiveness. This leaves women in a difficult position.
Anatoria, however, has luck and intuition on her side. She knows that when chips came down Joe will come to her crying. She surrenders the letter that he has given her to her guardians. Those are the people that he deals with when he is discharged from hospital. He has made their task simple. They flush in his face the letter that he has given Anatoria showing that he no longer loves her.
The invalid doesn’t take his own medicine lying down. In Akazvidenhera Mago, Nicholas Mwanaka deals with a problem which is prevalent among tycoons and academics. There is no end in sight to this epidemic. Scientists in religions of the heart should put their heads together and see what hey can come up with.
That artist has contributed poems to many anthologies and has written several plays, including Kutungana kweMbudzi and the Thorny Spy.
Online Reporter