LAKE OF MY HEART – CHAPTER 15

LAKE OF MY HEART – CHAPTER 15

He attended the graduation ceremony for medical staff like nurses, nurse specialists [paediatric nurses, psychiatric, operating room nurses or mid wives],laboratory technicians/specialists graduating at Parirenyatwa Group of Hospitals. The majority were being awarded a three-year general nursing diploma from which they could choose where to specialise.

The others, a minority were those that had specialised including those with degree qualifications. Nursing degrees were akin to degrees taken by teachers or those in the agricultural sector who had first qualified at colleges like Chibero and Gwebi. The graduates had to first undergo a basic three years training and be in the field before being allowed to do a degree. One could not just enter the degree program without being a practising nurse. For nurses, the Bachelor of Nursing Science Honours degree was for three years.

Most did the general nursing three year diploma course while their teaching and agricultural students did the same. Years later all these groups when most of them had families undertook a Bachelor of Nursing Science Honours, Bachelor of Education and a Bachelor of Agricultural Sciences degree. However agriculture had a right of entry straight into the degree program for those with university entrance qualifications. Teachers normally did a Bachelor of Education degree either primary or specialisation for secondary/high schools.

The nurses were very smart in their white uniforms, white gloves and green jerseys. The ladies had blue polycotton scarves clad over their shoulders tied at their fronts. There even was a choir comprised of the medical graduates with synchronised dancing. There was much ululation, pomp and ceremony. Husbands and wives or family members of the graduates ululated and cheered even before the graduation ceremony had started. It was a wonderful time to complete studies and qualify. Some things were taken for granted when indeed some failed to qualify by virtue of failing, giving up, illness or death. The opposite were post humorous qualifications.

Qualifying was quite an achievement, it took a dedication to study and pass. Individual qualifications came to be celebrated by families first. Then a whole nation celebrated as more qualified personnel were made available. The television and print media reporters were there. The freelance photographers were helping to create memories. They buzzed in to take shots of graduates in their gowns with their families. Most graduates liked to make portraits of their moments of glory.

He was as sober as a whistle. He was as clean as a pin. He had behaved like he was being interviewed by a set of church deacons and after which he would have a management meeting with a board of bishops. He had stayed clean of whiskey or its cousins wine, beer or ale. But then, some of the clergy also drank beer.

He wore grey trousers with pleated detail on the front, white long sleeve shirt, grey neck tie, black ankle high boots and a black suit jacket. The idea of drinking while on the job was a mistake he didn’t make. As a young man, he had been called up to a board like meeting where his beer habits had been dressed down. That was once. He would never repeat the same mistake again. He had read subsequent payslips were part of his salary had been docked over his working hours binge drinking. It was like next door to being fired for drunken behaviour.

The graduates as was customary were urged by the political big wigs to maintain their code of ethics, honour and remain in the country. Vacancies were rising faster than they could be filled because of the export of manpower by an economy reeling from internal and external pressure. If the country had a core, that core was made of material stronger than diamonds, it was holding firm. The politician talked about indigenisation and the need to be both professional, follow ethics and be patriotic.

For once because they were not part of the large group of civil servants whose nursing comrades in arms were prone to strike, they were referred to as ‘comrades’. Just a year after graduating and working for the government and they would start heeding cat calls for strike action. Of what use was a probation period when staffing was a problem with an oversupply of vacancies against available manpower.

That was all right unless you realised that transport costs alone per month were equivalent to half their government salaries. How most civil servants were surviving would make a board of inquiry cringe. On paper their liabilities were more than their assets yet they cheerfully went about their duties. Most of them no longer gave notice when crossing over to another country. They just vanished! However the unthinkable had happened, once a relative was admitted, extra care and extra hands needed a few foreign currency notes to keep the relative ‘stable’ and the poorly paid civil servants survived.

Even with diplomas withheld some graduates disappeared by the end of the year. Call it technology when all a person did was pay a few dollars in US $ terms to a registry clerk who would make the original certificate available. A colour copy could be done whereupon the photocopy would be reinvested in the registry file with the diploma certificate and schedule of results original going as far as Canada and Europe.

The scramble for Africa had now turned into Africa‘s scramble for Europe, North America and Australia. Rarely had he heard of anyone going to settle in Brazil with its Portuguese language problem. Give the same person a chance to settle in Portugal, Spain, France and Germany and they jumped ship. But people from home had gone as far as Germany, learning a new language in the process just to start afresh.

The fact that for some skills like pharmacy a graduate had to re-do a whole year in order to practice outside the country was outweighed by the state of the economy. Many chose the route of redoing the year than remain in their country or start all over in a new career in a new country. Most of those that he knew who left as teachers had tended to end up having become nurses especially in the United Kingdom.

The graduates were then taken by roll call which had been practised and awarded their certificates, diplomas and degrees. Some were awarded for best students in a particular discipline. Here was where one needed tap dance while celebrating the coming of age of a relative who was being awarded a diploma.

He stayed put.

No one had asked him for beer hall, night club or pub dance routines. He had always regarded teachers and nurses as being similarly educated with three year certificates or diplomas at par with those of the agricultural colleges. Now he realised that among the grains were one or two geniuses who did well and were mentioned.

“Awarded a Bachelor of Laboratory Sciences degree in upper second class is Naomi _______,” he had heard amid shouts, whistles and ululations.

“Praise ye the Lord _______.”

A whole column of relatives and friends stood up and cheered. Some were clapping their palms while a few of them, including her parents were dancing their way to receiving her when she had stepped down from the podium. There was a grey haired man in a three piece suit doing a tap dance. He had never seen her parents. He separated them from the lot by their age and dress. The father could dance, he was bending forwards working with one leg doing the routines while the other shuffled about. Then he exchanged the legs and re did the whole dance again. All the while, a family photographer had his flash bulbs blinking and winking like a Soviet anti aircraft radar station.

“Bravo!”

The father was in a suit and ti. The mother wore a longer than knee dress in patterns and details with arms that came right down to her hands. The mother’s dress was pure African attire normally suited to Zambia to the east of Africa.

Naomi saw him when she posed for photographs with her parents outside the hall, her younger sister, her elder brother and her female cousin Rosetta who was older than Naomi. She waved her hands maybe at him, her fellow students or the relatives of other students.

She was in her degree gown, its hood and the scroll. She had done extremely well from when he had last seen her re-doing her advanced level examinations.

She curtsied for him holding her hood down. He barely nodded his head. He didn’t care whether she was smiling at him or the photographer. She had made family history by becoming a pacesetter, the first child to acquire a degree. Hey, he thought, that goes for me too. We are two of a kind. Why don’t birds of a feather make it in life together? He did not wait to make a commission of inquiry.

It just took one phone call to send his cell phone vibrating. He received a call about a flat for sale in Charingira Court. It was near to the corner flag of the large referral hospital Naomi was associated with. That was almost within the giant referral hospital territory. It was on a corner of Old Mazowe Road. He picked up the client in Second Street driving to the flat block for an inspection after which they drove to the company offices where they had signed a memorandum of sale between the would be buyer and the would be seller. They could conclude the sale within a week.

It was funny, the seller was to vacate within two weeks after the conclusion of the sale by which time he was supposed to pay rent to the buyer from the first of the month to when he vacated. That was real estate.

In overseas countries he had seen estate agents driving compact and small to medium vehicles. Here he was driving a truck. It was because of the bad roads and the fact that some real estate was maturing in areas with dusty pot marked bone jarring roads yet these had sewer, water and electricity connections with tarred roads to follow.

As summer rains carpeted the urban areas, urban roads developed pot holes which required trucks. There was a difference between a real estate agency and a land & property developer. These two were showing signs of being different. He clinched sales while the other guys were backing him by developing land and producing saleable units. He could not sell anything if the land developers did not produce. At times, he needed to take short cuts to avoid using too much fuel in a situation where both diesel and petrol were hard to come by at times.

He was in his office when he was advised there were two clients to see him. He looked at his appointments roster. There were two clients coming in at the same time. He was hardly in the office in the morning collecting his clients here and there. There was a rap on the door.

“Come in”, he said looking up. Two ladies came in. “You? I have two clients coming in, in minutes.”

“It’s me and Rosetta,” Naomi replied. “I booked an appointment in Rosetta’s surname and my mother’s first name.”

“Is this a James Bond 007 thing?” he grumbled under his breath.

So she and Rosetta had different surnames? Oh, Rosetta was a cousin from the mother’s side which would make their surnames different anyway. He didn’t even know her surname, had she ever told him?

He had been reading a section of the Financial Gazette. His interest had been on the liquidity crisis. Where and how did the liquidity crunch bite?

The woman wore grey suiting material made up her pair of trousers with a belt detail at the waist. She wore a white cotton blouse with short sleeves. She had on high heeled black shoes that went clop clip. The hand bag was also black genuine looking leather. One leg was above the other. Her cousin wore cotton costume cream skirts and jacket cum blouse with a sleeveless top inside. The skirt was flowing past her knees. Both had their heads made in with curls and plastic pieces that retained their hair in place and shape. They looked ravishingly smart. He doubted again that with that hairdo and those high heels these girls had walked here.

“What will it be this time?” he asked after formal greetings. “I take it you are not interested in the residential plots, flats or houses that we have on offer. A business property maybe?”

“What’s the difference between a studio apartment and a bedsitter?” Rosetta asked.

“A studio apartment is a single room per occupant with occupants sharing a bathroom more like it is available in Europe being an improvement from boarding houses. A bedsitter is a self-contained flat with one main room acting as living, kitchen and bedroom.”

“So technically there are no studio apartments in Zimbabwe?” she probed.

“None except studio apartments are like the rooms we lodge within the city where you have access to a room while sharing bathroom and toilet. You do your cooking there but we call them lodging here not studio apartment,” he replied. “The three including a bachelor pad are almost the same here. These are flats with a toilet and bathroom at times combined a small kitchen and a large bedroom.”

“The Mbare flats would qualify to be studio apartments or bedsitters?” Rosetta asked.

“Yes because those are large rooms without toilets that is where they become a health hazard in terms of population.”

“You did not wait until after our graduation”, Naomi accused him.

“Are you taking notes Rosetta?” he asked. “I didn’t receive any invite telling me to be there.”

Rosetta opened up with laughter. There was a gleam of complete teeth and a tongue showing. He wondered if in his dealings with Rosetta he could conclude that she was shy or shrewd. You never knew with quiet women when they exploded. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman, someone had written that somewhere. He had never been good at Shona and English literature.

“Why should I?” she asked. “I have enough social problems with my own dates.”

“We make a perfect couple, you and I Rosetta. I have a date that keeps slithering away and you have male dates that disappoint, could we go out tonight?” he asked.

“She will kill me,” Rosetta replied looking sideways at her cousin whom she considered like a younger sister. “Any other time, place, different continent, planet and different culture would have been welcome.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Naomi asked.

“Yes but we are not talking to you,” Rosetta offered. “So you can’t talk back unless we invite you into our social gathering. So far stay put. This is Facebook. We haven't accepted you into our group.”

“You have a habit of disengaging yourself from m. I judged that you were about to. That is why I left the graduation still intact,” Trevor replied. "I need heartbreak insurance."

“I wanted to show my parents to you,“ Naomi replied.

“Honestly?” he queried. “When and where did we agree on that?”

“I was bent on making a formal introduction,” she replied. “I was very disappointed that you left without notice honestly.”

“The same way I felt when you dropped me like a hot potato,” he had countered. “I wanted to introduce you to my drinking buddies but you were history by then.”

“You people,” Rosetta was the referee. “Do we have anything else to discuss other than disappointing each other tit for tat? Tit for tat makes us all blind.”

“It wasn’t tit for tat. I wasn't sucking any tits,” Trevor complained. “I was just reading the signs making sure when she ditches me next, I will be the first one out. I am not in again as yet am I?”

“Trevor!” Rosetta chided.

“I didn’t know you were a nut,” Naomi said.

“Peanut or ground nut?” he asked.

“You two stop fighting,” Rosetta replied. Trevor turned from the one cousin to the other who was the centre of all his dating problems. “To what do I owe this surprise?”

“We were in Eastlea when we thought we could look you up,” she, the cause of all his problems replied.

He calculated that from Town House to his offices was about three kilometres. In their attire, these ladies could certainly not have walked. To add insult to injury, his offices were in the middle of Eastlea.

He realised too that Naomi had calculated well. If she had telephoned asking for directions and stating their purpose, he would have flown the nest. They were not near Kamfinsa Avenue to the north or Mutare Road to the south. Someone had either taken a taxi or they had taken a commuter omnibus as far as Mutare Road or Samora Machel Avenue and walked. In this heat, the last option was not possible. They were not sweating. Taxis were mainly available in the city rarely in Mutare Road or along the way to Kamfinsa in Samora Machel Avenue unless they were hijacked coming from dropping a fare.

“Our, rather my friend at Parirenyatwa is having a graduation party this evening.”

“Where?”

“Boston Road here in Eastlea,” she replied. That explains it, he thought, they had come to fine tune before the actual event. “Very, very close to here.”

“So you want me to drive four kilometres that way north of north west to my flat and back less than a few hundred metres from here?” he asked. “I need bathe completely. I was poking at ceilings and dry rot walls.”

“That is life and how it treats all of us,” Rosetta replied unperturbed by his protestations.

“Before you make suggestions, she married half way through our training program. She is expecting too,” Naomi added.

“Before I suggest what?” Trevor asked. Cecil knocked once and pushed his head through.

“Sorry chommie, did you finish with the Charingira File?” Cecil asked. “Hello ladies.”

“I gave it to the reception woman. She had her ears covered by those earphones she uses when typing and answering calls,” he replied. “If you are interested in a date, I have two ladies without any escort.”

“Trevor!” Naomi complained. “One lady without an escort.”

“That happens to be you?” asked Rosetta.

“They are fighting for you Cecil,” Trevor suggested wryly.

“Both are already promised elsewhere,” Rosetta said.

She rolled her big eyes to look at Cecil. He stood at more than six feet and a half in height against her own six foot and eleven inches.

“I just said a date for two ladies. I never said you were sleeping over,” Trevor replied.

“Trevor!” Rosetta ended up laughing.

“The last one I dated blindly threatened to use a broken beer bottle across my face,” Cecil said. “Thanks but no thanks Maureen would shed some blood off me. Good evening ladies.”

He closed the door on his egress.

“I had asked a question on why I had to know that the friend is married and pregnant?”

“It's a she,” Rosetta replied.

Rosetta was taking on weight to exceed the size of her cousin only that maybe she didn’t look stout. She was taller. She wasn’t bad looking either. Naomi was more of an eye turner than Rosetta. Naomi was about a metre seventy-three centimetres. Rosetta was about a metre eighty centimeters. Trevor was bringing the rear at about a metre eighty-eight centimetres.

While Naomi was lighter skinned, Rosetta had more of a brownish-black skin. The colour of the skin did not make a lady ugly or attractive. Other matters did. Great is the man that hooked a good hearted woman than the one who looked at a woman being attractive, plain or ugly.

“With her huge belly we won’t have any competition for you.”

“So?” he asked looking at his leather bound A-4 diary of appointments again. He hid behind his desk. He was also discovering then and there that he had a beer belly coming up smooth and nicely. “Does it make it a qualification to finish college and be pregnant?”

“They were holding back,” Rosetta said.

“Holding back on what?” asked Trevor.

“Rose don’t go that far with him,” Naomi replied.

“They were avoiding babies while she was in nurses’ college,” Rosetta was insolent. She refused to listen to reason from Naomi.

“Here we go _____,” Naomi suggested.

“No sex during college?” he asked.

“Trevor, you are a real macadamia nut,” Rosetta explained. She joined Naomi in laughing.

“It doesn’t mean that going to college be it nursing, teaching or technical is for bachelors and spinsters only. Married people also go there and they temporarily stop additions to their families in order to concentrate on studies. It doesn’t augur well for examinations to start a few hours before your labour pains started,” Naomi explained in detail. After all she was attached to the medical profession.

“You hadn’t explained holding back to what?” Trevor was hard headed.

“Having a second child,” Rosetta explained.

“I see said the blind man. And you joined them in not having a child?” Trevor asked.

“Trevor! Was I married?” asked Naomi.

“Do you have to be to have a bouncing baby?” asked Rosetta.

“Why are both of you not having children?” asked Naomi of Rosetta and Trevor.

“I haven’t found anyone willing. When I broach the subject, the slap me on the left or right,” Trevor complained. “Besides I hate having maids. They seem to take over the kitchen first and my budget next.”

“I will, with Trevor,” suggested Rosetta.

“I will roast you alive.” There was no prize in guessing who had said that.

“He is sterile, don’t worry, we will have to import babies into the household.”

“Rosetta!”

He was looking past it his mind in a whirlpool. He had concluded all appointments for the day. Appointments were something that he had learnt to know by heart. He never messed up with what gave his side buttered bread. Life was a struggle in the country without adding his own carelessness or selfishness to the pot of stew.

“I was not looking for a nursing sister for a wife. They make terrible life time companions always practising or honing their nursing skills on members of their family. I don’t want a cabinet full of medications and an injection each time I sneeze. I don’t want my glasses and mugs sterilised every time I want to use them.”

“Trevor please! Can you be my escort?” Naomi asked. “What of Rosetta, if she married you?”

“She could curl the babies’ hair or plait them,” Trevor added.

© Copyright tmagorimbo 2014