|He who hath a fat wallet calls the shots|
|Saturday, 18 August 2012 00:00|
LIKE flies landing on a carcass, dozens of acquaintances swarmed the liquid guy’s car window before he could switch off the engine in the parking lot.
The excitement with which they greeted the man showed he either meant a lot to them or he had a solution to their troubles.
“Mudhara wauya, zvangu zvaita. Zvachata,” a lanky and dreadlocked fellow screamed while stretching his hand to greet the bespectacled visitor.
“Taitamba nababa vako shamwari. Tisu vako vechidhaka,” another guzzler who was in the crowd bellowed while raising the base of his empty opaque beer container to show he was craving for a drink.
“Teburu ngaitsvuke vasekuru. Let the beer flow. Show them what you are made of. Treat these poor creatures to a memorable day of salty chews and heavy booze. Sort these fools out,” a wordsmith within the expectant crowd chanted.
Though his words were unpalatable, no one took offence because they all had a common goal.
Paidiwa mudhako, hari yemadzisahwira.
Ladies of loose morals nearby immediately set about singing and performing lewd dance routines in front of the guy who was driving a sleek car and donning swanky attire.
“Akadziya muchinda uyu. Ingezha chaiyo. We are going to have more than enough here. He was in America and has come back after almost 10 years.
“Ane mari manje muchinda uyu. Ndiye akavakira amai vake zimba zihombe kuseri uko. Zvedu zvaita manje. Tapinda, tapinda,” guys who had no clue of how they were to end the heroes holiday owing to lack of cash could be heard saying.
Even some men who were tucking into roasted beef and mazondo in a nearby shop temporarily covered their dish and went out to welcome the visitor.
Gentle reader, there is something about free beers and free eats that makes the lion in most ghetto people roar.
Confiding in them that there is free food and booze somewhere makes them develop itchy feet.
They generally enjoy staggering home drunk and waking up the following morning with all the cash they had the previous day.
Most people, children included, have grown accustomed to free things that asking them to pay for something is as if you have committed a crime.
This could be the reason why teen pregnancies are on the increase.
It could also explain why African traditional values are being sacrificed on the alter of expediency.
Kwadzinorohwa matumbu ndiko kwadzinomhanyira.
“There is no hurry in Africa. If he buys beer for me, it does not mean he has taken control of my life. A fool and his money are soon parted and who am I to stop someone foolish enough to buy the world booze from doing so,” a gap-toothed fellow said before this writer in Glen Norah at the weekend.
He said he felt quite blessed to stay near fame seekers who go out of their way to take care of other people’s troubles.
Anodyiwa haataure manyepo iwe,
Iyeni ndakambodyiwa chinin’ina,
Ini ndakambozunzwa homwe,
Dai pasina kudyiwa munin’ina,
Kana mota dai ndiinayo,
Kana imba dai ndiinayo, sang the late Fanuel “System” Tazvida and Chazezesa Challengers.
And he was not wrong.
Most people who splash cash on strangers are usually left picking the tabs whenever their cash position tumbles. And those they would have spent the cash with will not be on hand to assist.
Instead, they will add you on a list of people who had access but failed to convert this into tangible assets.
They will consign your name to the list of don’ts in a think volume on life skills.
Each time a person awash with cash arrives, some men are quick to surrender their rights to the bloke so they can wring cash and free beer from the visitor.
They even go to the extent of allowing you near their daughters and maids as long as the wise waters flow.
“Feel free my brother. This is my house. You are allowed to relax here. Pano pamusha pako,” they will tell you while enjoying your beer and free food.
But the tone changes when you are broke.
“Babamudiki ngwarirai kujairira misha yevanhu. Spending time with you is not a licence to come and subvert the laws of this home. I rule here and we actually, as a matter of fact, have no room for strangers hear,” you are reminded when the chips are down.
Even young girls on whose pretty little faces you would have planted kisses on the strength of a fat wallet, immediately threaten police action the moment they discover you have no money.
“Mudhara kana usina mari famba-famba. Rova nhetserwa wakananga kudheni kwako,” you are told.
People with money, as I commit pen to paper, gentle reader, are doing the unthinkable in the communities in which we live.
They dictate the type of clothes you must wear, the woman you must love and the type of music you must listen to.
At parties they can make you worse than a robot in a typical case of “he who pays the piper calls the tune”.
Even in places of worship, parishioners with more cash dominate discussions. They at times dictate the building plans the house of God must embrace because the burden of paying the architects rests on their shoulders.”
In the family unit, siblings with cash appear more like bullies. Whatever they and their children want goes while your wife and other poor relatives have to contend in ensuring their comfort is not compromised.
Well-heeled relatives sometimes refuse to sleep at funerals arguing that doing so will not bring the deceased back to life although that is an age-old norm.
At funerals, people with a bit of cash than their relatives dictate the type of coffin and burial they want owing to their ability to finance their decisions.
Not all well-heeled people are bad. Some are meek and respectful, but the many this writer knows are real knob-heads.
Some rich people are bedding married women and the husbands take no action because of greed.
Girls too are being abused by these people who no one wants to confront for fear of disturbing the supply chain of free beers and eats.
Wealth is like fire. It must be handled properly to avoid hurting the host and others downstream. Inokuuraisa mari.