Tichaona Zindoga
With the villager gone on a sabbatical to fetch knowledge from the ageless fountain of wisdom in the land of milk, honey and dust, there is also room to see things not from the villager's perspective but from what is going on around the city of not so blinding lights.
And, boy, no matter how glorious a public profile could, or seem, to be, it has its disadvantages too.
The one big disadvantage is that the private, even the deeply private, ceases to be private and becomes a matter of public consumption - and scrutiny.

Ask any musician, sportsman and politician and they will testify that what would pass for the routine and mundane before fame kicked in becomes something to be watched and executed consciously.
But it certainly should be one hell of a life when one has to watch how they walk, smile, eat, cough, sneeze, talk or fart even; among other banal activities, simply because one is well-known. This state of affairs somehow encapsulates the hullabaloo that Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai's marriage to "long-time sweetheart" Locadia Karimatsenga Tembo created this week.

(Of course, yesterday we woke up to the news that the episode could have been a hoax, which puts the whole thing on the scale of believe it or not). Suddenly, a very traditional marriage (if you discount that it was executed in this month of Mbudzi; or does is it matter?) becomes something of a headliner in the country's newspapers. The vibe has spread even beyond the country's borders with foreign publications latching onto the news - and all its nitty-gritties.
Perhaps this was no ordinary marriage, after all?

Or if one is taken in on the "damage" story, it really was not an ordinary damage? Journalism schools teach something about prominence, which attribute in a person renders whatever they do as prominent.
That is, when a prominent person falls ill, or afflicted by some little cough, the same banal annoyance blows up to proportions spit out in consequences relative to the prominence of the afflicted. Not that there was anything of affliction in the supposedly happy episode at some Christon Bank homestead as PM Tsvangirai apparently closed the sad chapter of losing his first wife, Susan.

But there is something really interesting in imagining the premier behaving like a very plain folk - as a "cultured son-in-law". A relative of the woman gushed that the whole PM of Zimbabwe "abvisa bhutsu akagwesha kubva panze kusvika mumba . . . "(removed his shoes and dragged himself into the house so that he could be received as son-in-law).
Surely Moses-like he had entered a holy place!

And, boy, the figures that came out of the ceremony are so mouthwatering. With the aunts having to walk away with a cool US$5 000, for example, and the mere plate used to convey the moneys having US$200 for its troubles in the US$36 000 scheme of things, this could well be a good early Christmas gift for anyone anywhere. No wonder why this relation of the bride could thank the stars and say "Tapinda, tapinda."
Said she: "Imagine if you were in my position. How would you feel? Who would not want to have a Prime minister as a son-in-law?"

Has someone not said something about seeing and believing? Was Nelson Mandela 12 years on Monday, Mr Luke Tamborinyoka?
Much as the PM's marriage might have or might not have cut some November taboo, it certainly has cut through the politics, which one gathers is not unheard of in Zimbabwe's politics of today. PM Tsvangirai has married into a revolutionary family, the head of which had the honour of having President Mugabe at his funeral, we are told. Do I hear somebody saying something about Delilah?

How about the singing, much in the manner of the biblical Mary's "Magnificat", that "Tapinda, tapinda!" as the family enters the Holy Grail of having the whole premier as part of the family?
Thoughts drift to Biata Nyamupinga, Mai Nyamupinga as she is known in her, my, Goromonzi West constituency, Domboshava to be precise.
Mai Nyamupinga is sister to Tembo. Some reports since at least last year had linked her to the premier, with Theresa Makone, a member of what is often called the

MDC-T kitchen cabinet, also in the mix in the Tsvangirai-Tembo story.
Of course Mai Nyamupinga defeated Ian Makone in the race to Parliament. Now the question arises whether this legislator who like the rest of her family could be, is, singing "Tapinda, tapinda" is able to play family and politics apart.

She is not the only one, strictly speaking, in that scenario and how do our politicians juggle the sanctity and supremacy of political ideology over personal interests or vice versa?
Is this not the beginning, or entrenchment of the game of "bhora musango", which some, perhaps Mai Nyamupinga herself, have been accused of playing?
For those not familiar with this kind of ball game, it is one in which a political candidate, as seen in Zanu-PF in 2008, campaigns for themselves and "your choice" when it comes to the Presidential candidate.

Whether or not in 2008 Mai Nyamupinga played this treacherous game - at least in the eyes of Zanu-PF and its leader - it will be interesting how she will conduct her politics now that vapinda vapinda.
Speculatively, at home will she say, "Vote for me but paPresident," a contest between bamunini and her party chief, "mozoona yekutamba."?

Given that the premier is but strictly the included in the current inclusive Government will she not find it more expedient that her babamunini be the one to include, if ever, when the next Government is formed?
Is blood not thicker than water?

What will she tell me, her constituency? Ordinary relationship, political marriage? Still, the marriage could not help but excite conjecture relating to the political context within which it took place.
It will be noted that this marriage took place in the maelstrom PM Tsvangirai created around himself over the so-called gay rights.
Perhaps he tried to prove that he indeed did not enter into some weird liaisons when he preached the gay gospel in the UK, that Cameron proclaimed as "no gay, no gain"?

That he is very much macho and hetero but as a "social democrat" chooses to respect those who have other proclivities?
Henceforth, he will be (or will he?) appearing in public with his new wife, in case some people would have other ideas. This brings one to the big question.

Was the marriage not a political move, even when it is known that Tsvangirai and his love had it going on ordinarily, both being potential marriage candidates?
Some people out there might need a lot of convincing that this could not possibly some PR - or propaganda - stance, if you like to be a little harsh, meant to checkmate the gay debate. Yet the card could as well have been played prematurely.

Why could he wait a little so that the move itself could not generate some controversy by having been played in November, whether technically the taboo could apply this time of the month or not?

Why the rush? Is it to do with the very ripe rumours doing circles in town as indeed applicable to the corporeal? Which is given substance by the revelations that Tsvangirai, as a responsible African man, as one opinionated report said, paid "damages".

But the timing is also interesting. As workers, particularly civil servants, collect their bonuses they might be interested to know that their earnings, at most generous, are trumped by the US$1 000 "makandinzwa nani" paid by the man who promised them heaven a couple of years ago.

Or if there wasn't any marriage to talk about, he paid US$10 000 in the "damages" born of extra-marital bliss by the bachelor PM. Which brings another big concern.
Then Zimbabwe has indeed fornicating and indulging PM who has to cover his tracks with tonnes of dollars? A good guess is that those moralistic, even religious animals who might have been slighted by Tsvangirai's gay stance and somewhat mellowed by the so-called marriage will have to be worked up again on this. As surely as Nelson Mandela is not 12 years, this thing will surely cause a storm.

And we are not hearing about it for the last time.