adminKok Tales with Robert Mshengu Kavanagh
THERE are lots of very busy people in Harare these days. The bottom line is money but, as we demonstrated in one of our earlier Kok Tale, money is a slippery customer.
People can stop being human – because they can’t get enough of it. If you think about it, you will see that this expression has two meanings – and both are true. “Do you know what ‘duty’ means?” said Adam. “You mean like ‘South Africa expects every man to do his duty’?” “No, I mean a ghetto thing here in Zimbabwe.”
“Since when were you a Wikipedia on the ghetto?” I scoffed.
Adam took no notice and went on: “In the townships, comrade, you get lots of different families on one property – just like back home. They share the yard, the toilet and the washing facilities. They agree to do the sweeping and cleaning in turns, each family doing it for a week. Now, some people don’t like sweeping and cleaning up other people’s dirt so they get someone else to do it for them. “This is what is called ‘duty’. There are women who specialise in sweeping and cleaning other people’s dirt for them. Some of them manage to do two, even three duties a day. The going rate is $2 a duty but, if they can’t get it, they settle for $1.
“So if she is lucky, working from very early in the morning until evening every day of the month, her take-home pay is less than $100 a month – probably much less. What do you think of that?”
“Building the pyramids of Egypt was better,” I replied flippantly.
“No, seriously, comrade, have a heart. When I first heard of this, I was not only shocked but really depressed.” “Listen Adam, what is this all about? When we meet for a drink, I expect a story from you. One of your usual stories – you know, about women. I didn’t know you thought of anything else.”
“But those who do ‘duty’ are women, comrade!”
We were in Mushandirapamwe Hotel in Highfield, drinking beers on a Tuesday afternoon. Machipisa was a place where we had had some happy times when we first came to Zimbabwe. We decided to go back for old times’ sake. Adam’s social welfare sob stories were depressing me. “When I say I love women, jack, I mean I love everything about them. They are my passion in life. So when I go into the tea room at work and I find a woman sobbing her eyes out, I have to comfort her.”
“I know the way you ‘comfort’ women, Adam.” Adam again ignored my jibe. He was being very serious today. “Mai Njeri was given the sack by Old Ngulube. Now, she told me, she would have to go back to doing ‘duty’ in Mufakose, where she lives. She said she just couldn’t bear the thought. I quietened Mai Njeri down and then drove her home. Her husband doesn’t work.”
“Just like you, Mr Kok,” I said. “Indodayinja – what do you expect? A man’s a dog?”
Still no reaction. “Mai Njeri lives with her younger sister. Let me tell you, jack, she must be one of the most beautiful young women in Harare. The moment I saw her, I lost interest in Mai Njeri. So I promised Mai Njeri I would talk to Ngulube and try and get her job back. Failing that, I said, I would try and find another job so that she didn’t have to go back to the chain gang. So I asked Samantha, the younger sister, the usual question, designed to find out her status. ‘Your husband is a lucky man’, I said. If she says, ‘Thank you’, I know she’s married. If she isn’t, she’ll tell me.”
“So what did she say?”
“She said she doesn’t have a husband. So I said: ‘You’re not married?’ – trying to make sure she noticed that I liked the idea. ‘But I am married’,” she said. What a shock! ‘How can she be married without a husband?’ I thought. Very nicely she explained. She was married – for one day. But the husband, who married her today, forgot he’d married her the next day. So she stayed married but with no husband! The divorce is pending.”
“Now this is better, Adam,” I said. “This is what we expect from Adam Kok. Explain.” “What do you take me for? When a woman like Samantha tells me she has no husband and she’s available, do you think I’m going to worry about an explanation? I mean seriously, comrade, which is more interesting – Samantha in bed or a story about how her husband forgot he married her the day after their wedding?”
“Well, that may be okay for you but for those of us who haven’t had a chance to get into bed with Samantha, you could at least tell the story.”
“As I always tell you, comrade, uyabaleka – you are running. Let the story unfold.”
It took another half hour of beer drinking and a whole hour of whiskey drinking while Adam waxed lyrical on the delights of Samantha – how he had taken her to a posh restaurant in Highlands, how in such an expensive milieu her beauty had shown like a jewel in a case of dark blue velvet, how her eyes got misty as they drank wine together, what the first touch was like and then the whole story of when he took her home and they slept together in the lounge. Lucky for Adam both Rudo and Angie, their maid, were away for a few days. Only after Adam had spent himself in the telling – he seemed to be actually re-living the whole experience – was I able to extract the story. It turned out that Samantha’s beauty wasn’t a light that could be kept under a bushel. She had attracted the attention of a very big businessman. Because he was a very big businessman he was also a very busy businessman.
He gave her the job and then in between contracts and business meetings, he popped the question. Because he was so busy, he paid a priest to marry them in the office after work before catching a late night plane to Johannesburg for an early morning business meeting.
He promised her a honeymoon when he had the time and sent her home with the chauffeur.
When he got back from the airport the next day and came rushing into the office, Samantha was happy to see her husband. She was dying to start married life. She hoped for a hug and a kiss, but no. “Where are the minutes of so-and-so meeting” and “fetch so-and-so document from the files” and “get the CEO on the line” and “get a move on with that coffee”.
She did her best to do all these things and caught him with the cup of coffee just as he was sweeping out the office. “I’ve no time for coffee!” he barked. “What kept you so long?”
Then suddenly he stopped and looked at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Samantha”, she said in a state of shock. “Remind me, when I’ve got time, to marry you. You’d make a wonderful wife.” “I’ve got news for you, chef. You married me last night.” The busy businessman hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “So I did. Then I don’t have to propose again. Glad we got that done” and he dashed to an important business meeting in Bulawayo.
Here was another very busy person trying to make money and not able to get enough of it. Of course, Samantha left him. Adam saw his chance. “Samantha, my darling, your husband is a wealthy man. I’m sure he’ll be too busy to attend the divorce case.
“I’ll get you a lawyer who will see to it that you end up a very rich divorcee. That’ll make you happy, won’t it? And then Mai Njeri will not have to go back to doing ‘duty’.” He didn’t say the obvious – that she would be very grateful to him for life and reward him in the way he liked best. Unfortunately for Adam, things don’t always work out the way you want them to. Samantha did get a very generous settlement. She became a rich woman.
Mai Njeri never had to do “duty” again. But when Adam finally came out that he was married, Samantha dumped him. “What’s the point of a woman being rich if she can’t get herself a nice husband?”
To access previous Kok Tales, go to https://rmshengukavanagh.wordpress.com
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