In the village, in the land of milk honey and dust or Guruve if you like, a he-goat is never a master of courtship. His is a loud massif appeal, so public that one has to make sure he or she in not in the company of in-laws or others shied.

The dangling bits are not only a shame. They make the whole courtship process a farce and a sham. 
Again in the village manhood is never defined by having the biggest dangling bits, it is defined by one’s ability to live a dignified life, to act and live within the confines of societal values, norms and ethos.
A couple of years ago, Professor Jonathan Moyo cheekily said something to the effect that every Zimbabwean was Zanu-PF

“at heart”.
This villager could not help recollecting this statement in light of Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai’s seeming obsession with women from the other side of the political divide — Zanu-PF.

Suffice to say our Prime Minister has turned out to be a real village rum, a bachelor bull or bullock, itself a victim of high testosterone, whose blood is running hot, hotter and hottest, like a boy troubled by the matrix of puberty. The village soothsayer, the ageless autochthon of wisdom and knowledge calls it post puberty traumatic disorder. But whatever than means, the soothsayer will explain later.

Not so many moons ago it was Locadia Karimatsenga sister to Beater Nyamupinga and daughter of a late revered nationalist, whose funeral was even graced by President Mugabe. Hardly had the ink dried, the story and its connotations and twist and turns, died, have we now heard that there is another Zanu-PF girl for Tsvangirai. This week it was reported that Tsvangirai had engaged Elizabeth Macheka, the daughter of Zanu-PF Central Committee member, Joseph.

Now does that not say something on where Tsvangirai’s heart really lies — figuratively and politically?
What is becoming apparent in Tsvangirai’s fishing expeditions — and he is not a bad one at that — is that he has realised where the waters run deep.
Need we say where? Zanu-PF of course! So strong and irresistible is the Zanu-PF brand that Tsvangirai is said to have rejected a replacement from his former in-laws, who had offered him some paragon of beauty to bring back life to the cooking stones in his kitchen — Chimutsamapfihwa!

The villager was fascinated when some irate official from MDC-T confided that the party had many eligible girls yet the Premier sought girls from elsewhere.
This villager can understand the rancour.
You can imagine what becomes of the charms and the holy waters and pebbles that have been thriftlessly spent by these eligible ones to lure the chubby one.

“All for nothing?” I hear them say in desperation.
But who wants to fish from a mud rut?
Of course, it is a known fact that when you want to build a family you look for a brand and there is indeed a dearth of that brand in MDC-T, yet Zanu PF provides this perfect brand of women in abundance.

That perfect brand always catches the eye of the qualified bachelor that our PM has been.
MDC-T, MDC-T, MDC-T! What with a sex maniac of a grandmother like Senator Sithembile Mlotshwa, who calls for prisoners to masturbate and enjoy their sexual rights through a multifarious array of sex gadgetry? What with grandma Mlotshwa, who prefers going without food than without sex? Hey, what with the strip tease

Ambassador Jacqueline Zwambila, who makes youthful stripper Beverly Sibanda grin with envy? Then, what with Thabitha Khumalo, who has called for the legislation of prostitution, saying prostitutes were pleasure managers? What with . . ?
What then does it says about the women in that party and who would you certainly fish from there, where the grandmothers themselves are a nuisance? You certainly cannot fish from that mud rut.

But wait a minute! What boggles the mind is why he is in a hurry? What defies logic is why Tsvangirai is playing to the gallery? When almost everyone was beginning to forget about Locadia’s unfortunate 12-day marriage, the man himself decides to go public about yet another affair.
Bulawayo, Norton, Harare, Chitungwiza and then the hit-and-runs or the one-night-stands, the zipper seems too difficult to shut for Tsvangirai.
In the village, the more a monkey climbs up a tree, the more it exposes its genitals. Tsvangirai is exposing himself too much and this villager shudders to think

Tsvangirai has advisors, if he does, then they are very poor. A poorly advised fly follows a corpse into the grave and gets buried with it.
Whoever advised the Prime Minster is not serious either. What with this mantra of engaging today and saying he would marry only after elections? For starters he has no power to call for elections and only President Mugabe has. Suppose the elections are in 2016? Suppose they are in 2012 and he loses, which is most likely?

Why engage in public when he has a poor record on matters of the heart? Why?
But hey, what have matters of the heart to do with elections? This villager and those of his kind can’t quite link the two. With Locadia, it was a massif of marriage akin to that of a high school boy or some headless chicken scenario, never befitting someone in public office, worse still someone harbouring Presidential ambitions.

It was a roller coaster tragicomedy and melodramatic love cruise that left the audience, including the village soothsayer who rarely laughs hilariously crankling the rib-cage cracking point.

Just a few days after the soothsayer, declared that there was no future in such a man, Tsvangirai, the leader of the party of “sexcellence”, has lived true to his billing. The village soothsayer is warning all the remaining mistresses that they could still fall prey and should never be sure that their marriage will be real or yet another circus.

As for the Macheka family, in the village there is a saying that you cannot trust a foolhardy herdboy with ensuring that the cattle have been taken to the drinking hole. Tinotenda dzanwa dzaswera nebenzi!

Finally it goes without saying that one does need the services of an expert on sexism and sex dynamics to notice that our qualified bachelor has become an epitome of unsafe sex, confusion, flip flop and bed-hoping from Bulawayo, Norton, Harare, Chitungwiza and beyond, almost like a village bull.
This villager is not the son of Manheru, Manheru would have vulgarised the MDC-T slogan, in serviceable political humour. As for the relationship between Tsvangirai and Ruzabeta, time will tell. Whatever they will do in private, will still come out like a silent fart that soon announces itself in a fetid realm.