shloboe boe
It’s a bright Sunday morning, on 12 January 2025. The time is around seven o’clock when I set off to Tshabalala Garage to buy the day’s edition of the Sunday News. Well, I also enjoy reading these articles directly from the newspaper!
As I approach Maphisa Primary School, I randomly decide to branch off and head to Sibamba Bottle Store so as to drink one cold beer, before proceeding to buy a copy of the Sunday News. On my way to Sibamba Bottle Store, I meet a couple of friends, and exchange casual greetings. I notice that all these guys whom I meet are all downcast and in low spirits. I see no smiles on the faces that I meet. Some are taciturn morose and in a foul mood. It then dawns on me that the January disease is back again!
As I pass block 62 (Sizinda Township), I see a friend, Ganeti, standing outside the gate at his house. Like all the guys whom I have met along the way, Ganeti is looking forlorn, tired and thirsty. “Zithini Ganeti?” I greet him. He answers in a low, weak and husky voice, “Ngiyi swi mebraz.” I inform him that I am on my way to Sibamba Bottle to drink a quart of beer. At the mention of the word “beer”, Ganeti suddenly becomes lively. It seems the word “beer’ has worked some magic in this guy. He moves closer to me and says, “Mebraz ngomile blind, akwenze just one scud”. I tell him that I only have four dollars between me and poverty. Ganeti will have none of this; he insists that he needs a scud of beer. “Mebraz, akungizame please ngiwomile over, ibhabhalazi lingiphethe.” As they say in the local jargon, “Izidakwa ziyazwelana”, I agree to buy him a scud.
We get to Sibamba Bottle Store and I give Ganeti a one dollar note to buy a scud for us to share. I have decided not to buy a quart of beer so as to drink at least two scuds with Ganeti. I have also abandoned the idea of buying a copy of the Sunday News. As I wait for Ganeti outside the bottle store, Ganeti’s friend popularly known as “Razor” suddenly appears. Razor is dragging and shuffling his feet as he approaches me, his shoulders are sagging and his face is looking droopy. Here comes another victim of this deadly January disease, I say to myself. “Usharp topi?” Razor greets me in a barely audible voice. He is not the usual lively and vivacious Razor. “Ngi grand mfanekhaya”, I respond to his greeting.
It is true that two thirsty men repel as does the like poles of a magnet. That saying became even truer on that day, because when Ganeti came outside carrying the scud and saw me standing with Razor, he froze momentarily. I could see a flash of anger, shock and disappointment in Ganeti’s eyes. On the other hand, I could see Razor, grinning and moistening his lips when he saw Ganeti with the scud. The guy was clearly very thirsty. I laugh inwardly as I observe the silent and opposite reactions of these two guys. The two exchange greetings, but I can tell that Ganeti is not so happy, he was not expecting a third person to share the scud with us.
Razor offers to “shake” the scud. Scud is the name given to this opaque beer, and it has to be shaken first before drinking, so that it mixes well. Razor is a well-known “expert shaker”, and when he is done shaking, the opaque beer is looking delicious with a creamy froth known as “igwebu”. Razor passes the beer to me and I open it. I take a sip of the delicious beer and pass it on to Ganeti. Ganeti takes a very long swig. The guy is thirsty and is obeying his thirst, as he takes almost a full minute drinking the beer!
I can observe Razor eyeing Ganeti hungrily as he drinks. Razor just cannot wait to have the beer passed on to him. Ganeti finally passes on the beer to Razor. I observe Razor, as he drinks. He is pulling hard and has even closed his eyes. After what seems like ages, Razor finally puts down the scud. He sighs deeply, lets out a loud belch of contentment and is even smiling cheerfully. This does not seem to go down well with Ganeti, as I see him looking at Razor with a very angry eye.
After a while, I lift the beer container so as to take another sip. To my utter shock and disbelief, the container is empty, very empty! These two guys have done a good job of the beer in a single round. I am disappointed and angry as to why Razor and Ganeti have finished the beer so fast. I decide to go and have a quart of beer at Sizinda Bottle Store. I bid farewell to my two friends. “Nzalibona majida, ngisake ngifike edeni”. The two eye each other angrily and accusatorily. I am just hoping the two will not fight over this beer issue.
This is January, and for reasons not unknown to men, cabbage is very tasty and delicious in January, to the extent that one need not use cooking oil when cooking cabbage in January! But then, only a few people can afford to buy cooking oil in January. So, on my way to Sizinda Bottle Store, I pass by a vegetable vendor’s stall, “umsika”, and I see a tall man trying to get cabbage on credit, (isikweledi), from the vendor. The man is glancing furtively over his shoulder as he is speaking in a very low voice so that people do not catch on to the conversation. But unfortunately the vendor is one of those loud women with high-pitched voices and is unable to lower her voice. She screams in a high-pitched and shrill voice;
“Mkhwenyana ikhabitshi yidola. Angikweledisi, ngithengisa cash. Hamba uyobuya lemali.”
By now a small crowd of people has formed to watch this debacle. The man is now sweating profusely and trembling from embarrassment. The poor guy moves away, looking down in shame, and he stumbles and nearly falls down as the small crowd laughs at him. As he turns, I recognise the guy to be Goliath Phiri, the guy who was guzzling cold beers daily in December at Sizinda Bottle Store.
I proceed slowly like a lazy greyhound to the Bottle Store. I am also a victim of the January disease. There is virtually no food at my house, save for a half-cabbage, a quarter packet of matemba and the fridge is full of water containers. I am also worried that the remaining mealie-meal will not last up to Tuesday. The days seem to be dragging to get to the January payday.
Well, that’s the January disease and that’s the way the cookie crumbles. You can never say never in January!
Enjoy reading this article as you battle the January disease. Till we meet again next time.
Feedback: CLIFFORD KALIBO/Whatsapp: 0783856228/Email: kaliboc@gmail.com
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