Ghetto dances: Should I expect much from the elections?

By Onie Ndoro | Aug. 27, 2023

I had no plans for the day except to go and cast my vote.

I did not open all my eyes at once. But the moment I did, I saw light of dawn emerging from under the door.

My body felt tired and I felt some pain in my joints. I shut my eyes again in an attempt to return to sleep, but it did not work. Mai Maidei was sleeping soundly besides me. I envied her. No stress.

Very soon she would wake up and go to the market. She was doing better than me. More often than not she made sure we were fed daily from her street vending. My salary hardly covered the rent, least of all our groceries for the month.

I remember that other time when I overheard Mai Chipo gossiping with two other women. Mai Chipo lived in the next street. She must have thought that I had moved out of earshot. I heard her clearly. “Useless man, if it were not for his wife, he would be living in the streets, he can’t even pay his rent,” she said. Those words felt like my ears had been stung by a bee. I was so hurt. It was like I was walking naked the whole time.

That is the problem of living in the ghetto. Your deepest secrets are in the public domain and you really wonder if there are any secrets at all. To make matters worse, they giggled among themselves, laughing at my ineptitude. Long after this encounter, the words,”useless man,” kept ringing in my ears.

After this, I always encouraged my wife, Mai Maidei, to avoid any dealings with the woman.

For lack of sleep, I got up from the bed. It was Wednesday which had been declared a public holiday as it was the day for elections where registered voters were voting for councillors, members of parliament and the president of their choice.

I had no plans for the day except to go and cast my vote. I was actually bracing for an unwelcome visit from my landlord, Mr Tigere. Rent was due in the next two days.

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I was thinking of selling my android phone in a bid to raise the rent money.

The problem is it had a cracked screen and the cellphone dealers would use that defect to get that phone at a giveaway price.

They were like vultures and the more you showed your desperation, the more you became vulnerable.

When I entered the kitchen, the children were still asleep. I drank a glass of water and it had a sour taste. Maybe it was because I had not yet brushed my teeth.

After that I shuffled back to the bedroom. Something was wrong. It was unusual. Mai Maidei was still asleep.

I did not have the excitement of going to vote and yet this day had been a daily topic of heated debate for the past few months. Should I expect much from the elections? Who were the real beneficiaries of these elections? Was my life and the life of others going to improve after these elections? All these questions were running havoc in my mind.

I shook Mai Maidei gently at first. She did not wake up immediately and I had to apply more force as she was in a deep slumber.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up,” I said.

She opened her eyes and stared vacantly at me.

“It's the day for elections, get up, we should be early to avoid the long queues,”I said.

As she rubbed her eyes, I heard movement in the next room and knew that the children were also awake.

“You should have woke me up early,” said Mai Maidei as she got up from the bed.

“I am not going to the market today,” she said.

“Mai Svinurai, our neighbour, she wants some help, they are having a party,” she said.

“Why was I not told? I said. I even scowled.

I was wondering where some people were getting their money. Baba VaSvinurai, our neighbour was a long distance haulage truck driver who went as far as DRC and would be away for long periods.

Each time he came back from these trips, he always hosted lavish parties. For me, if where there was plenty of meat and beer that party became lavish. I had once tried to borrow money from him in the past and had met a brick wall.

I could only access his money via these lavish parties. The good thing is all my children also got to enjoy the food.

I had never thought of being a haulage truck driver before. Maybe it was high time I should try to be one and maybe earn a decent wage.

By the time I had finished bathing, Mai VaMaidei had already served porridge to the children. She took a quick bath. Even as we were leaving the house, Baba VaTata and his wife were already at our gate.

“Let’s go and vote guys. This only happens once in five years,” said Baba VaTata. He was in a jovial mood.

So together, we joined other excited voters who were heading to the polling station. Along the way, we also met Handitika and his wife. I could see that everyone had great expectations.

Elections always bring hope. Maybe by the time you read this, our neighbours' party would still be in full swing, with dance and music of joy.