adminDr Josephine Shambare
Correspondent
Christmas days usually experienced downpours but were still celebrated with ‘pomp and fare’. The childhood memories remain etched on my mind. My parents bought us new clothes and shoes almost a month before and kept them neatly packed in the wardrobe awaiting the big day.
Relatives from afar made promises to visit during the Christmas period and surely did in big numbers to our joy. This was also the period when business was brisk. My father made several trips to the big city to procure enough stock. Families made prior bookings for bread to ensure no shortages would be experienced. Lobels, Rubins and London — bakeries of my time; delivered the bread religiously. The Coca-Cola truck also traversed the length and breadth of Chiweshe, like all other delivery vans; delivering soft drinks, the most popular being Fanta and Coca-Cola (koko kora).
The Fanta and Coca-Cola of my time were so tasty that I sometime wonder whether the same formula is still being maintained. There was a joke that made rounds that: “An old woman fainted by the shops. People around trying to resuscitate her suggested that she be given Fanta for her to come round. The old woman suddenly raised her head, opened her eyes and said “nemabhanzi acho” (together with buns) and suddenly fainted again.”
So many promises were made by both the young and the old to be fulfilled on Christmas day, the rendezvous usually being kumataundishipi (at the townships/shopping centre).
My family’s Christmas day celebrations started with breakfast comprising tea with milk, bread with margarine or ‘sun’ jam and eggs from the family chickens. Tea was brewed in a very big teapot that remained by the fireplace the whole day. Bread was served in a winnowing basket (rusero). We were allowed to drink as much tea as we wanted and eat bread any time we felt like, without any reprisals from my mother. Lunch and dinner mainly consisted of rice and chicken (mupunga nenyama yehuku). It was exciting to run after the chicken and catch it for the Christmas meal. The chickens ran so fast hence the nickname ‘road runner’.
The ‘road runner’ or ‘free-range’ chicken was leaner and tastier and still is.
My mother dedicated herself to the household chores while my siblings and I took turns to serve in the family shop adorning new clothes and shoes. Boys and girls of our age visited the township to show off their latest clothing apparel. Teenage girls tied a clean handkerchief around the wrist or knee as a sign of being ‘cool’ donning a ‘mabhanzi’ (African hair threading) hairstyle or with straightened hair (vhudzi rakastirechwa). The youngsters spent their pocket money on sweets, biscuits and ‘penny cools’ whilst the older ones spent their time at home, beer halls or love nests.
Every year, my father followed the music charts and procured the trending music in time for Christmas. He knew music was a sure way of enticing customers to our shop. The music/records (marekodzi) would be either on a seven single or Long play (LP). One of the most popular seven single of my time had two songs Connie mudiwa wangu (Connie my love) on one side and Anopenga ane waya (She is crazy) on the flip side. If someone told you that you were on the flipside of Connie, it meant you were nuts. Shoppers and revellers selected music of their preference and we gladly played it on the gramophone. They surely showed their foot-work skills on the dance floor.
On the contrary, fist fights punctuated the Christmas and Boxing days. Some people seemed to keep grudges that would be settled on such days to the entertainment of onlookers.
After the Christmas break, we also looked forward to entertainment at wedding ceremonies that we attended uninvited. The meaning of invitation was remote to us. The exchange of marriage vows did not mean much to us as children at that tender age. What fascinated us most was watching the ‘shy and sobbing’ bride sitting at the top table. As children, we wondered why they cried. Was it rehearsed? Were they not prepared to start their own homes? Didn’t they want to leave their mothers? The sobbing became worse when traditional songs full of satire were sung in the fast ‘jiti’ beat and in rhythm to the drums whose leather tops were heated over the fire to produce better sound. The satirical songs elevated the celebration mood into a crescendo with the bride sobbing softly more and more. Some of the lyrics would go: ‘Dai pasina Jerry wedu, waitoroorwa negudo romugomo’ meaning ‘If it were not for our son Jerry, you would be married to a baboon of the mountain’. What about the bridegroom? Who would he marry? While it sounded as entertainment, my young thoughts wandered why they were being cruel to the bride.
Food and drink would be plenty especially sadza, beef, mangai and maheu. To crown it all, a variety of wedding gifts would flow and these included plates, clay pots, pots, pans, reed mats, brooms, cattle, goats, chickens and money. While some tendered their gifts on the day, others pledged to bring the gift after the wedding day; which they did. The director of ceremony, normally a family friend (sahwira) or a nephew (muzukuru) full of humour, would urge family members and friends to present more gifts, making jokes, maintaining order and announcing gifts received. He sometimes engaged in macabre humour comparing gifts presented by in-laws, and all would be in jest.
After the wedding ceremony, we would return home excitedly, discussing how beautiful the bride looked.
Dr Josephine Shambare writes on Social issues for entertainment and awareness, in her own capacity. Excerpts are taken from her unpublished autobiography and PhD thesis: ‘The Enigma of Child Sexual Abuse in the Zimbabwean Context: Beyond Statistics’
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