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Joina City: Stress-free shopping experience
By Monica Cheru-Mpambawashe
That the building has changed the face of the capital is not debatable. It has created an island of sanity in an otherwise hectic place.
The only thing to do is to try out the Joina City shopping experience, and find out if it is everything that it promised to be; a hassle-free time with an eclectic mix of all the best products under one roof, so to speak.
When going shopping, a girl needs a friend who will stop you from buying that jacket, which once outside the shop, will look like it was pinched off the curtain rail. That same friend will also convince you to go into just one more shop, which may turn out to be the only place in town that has slacks that were designed for a woman like you, and you have long accepted that you are no supermodel.
We drive into the underground parking, and for a dollar an hour, we buy peace of mind. No touts and no clamping fears. I think it would be rather nice if bona fide clients with proof of purchase from the mall would be allowed the first hour free.
After emerging from the bowels of the building, we choose to enter from the Julius Nyerere Way entrance. I am now in the driving seat as I am the one who got into Joina City before it even opened and I have been into a couple of the shops already.
Cleaners are all over the place, with their huge brooms/brushes keeping the whole complex sparkling and welcoming. It looks like there is sergeant who is looking after that department as there is no slacking in evidence.
There is a jewellery shop, but it looks like they are not yet in business and, anyway, it is not exactly the kind of shop that you just casually catch glimpse of then walk in and pick up something. You might find yourself falling into one of the Beverly Hills syndromes, the shoplifting one. But a chat with the cops is not one of the items to tick off your shopping list, so desist.
We go into a shop that sells intimate wear and we have a few laughs as we look at some truly weird stuff. We can hardly keep straight faces as an assistant earnestly urges me to grab a pair of knickers so bright they would scream through the heaviest denim jeans that I own.
We go into the couple of sporting shops and decide that there is no need to scratch the head, come hubby’s birthday. You can get him a jersey of whatever team that gets his juice running. We leave the supermarket as the last port of call; no way are we going to trudge around the rest of the mall with a heap of groceries.
Another branded sporting wear place then we hit a baby shop. Pricy is the conclusion that we draw. The cheapest item is a feeding bottle for US$8. We take on the other side as we make our way back inside. It is not as hot as a fully-fledged summer day, but that does not stop us from indulging in an ice cream at the candy parlour just by the entrance.
A shop for the home has some tres chic accessories and I pick a couple of cushions that are statements in themselves. My friend goes for a set of huge wine goblets, and I warn her that she is going to turn all her guests into raving drunks.
Then it’s up the escalator to the first mezzanine floor. We go past a couple of banks and walk down a deserted corridor. In the corner we discover a boutique that is totally isolated as its neighbours are still closed. I fail to talk my friend out of buying a beautiful top that she will never fit into in this lifetime, unless she has drastic reduction surgery.
She swears that she will go on diet as soon as winter is over. I sigh in defeat as I have heard that one a million times before. But anyway, her teen daughter will probably grab the poor scrap the moment that the misguided woman unpacks it at home.
Another home accessory shop and we both decide that we will come back to grab a comforter. My friend, who is obsessed with IT gadgets, drags me, cushions and all into a shop where they sell phones. I yawn as she animatedly debates the merits of the Nokia "n" versus the "e" series with the assistant. The only thing I ask of a phone is that it gets my voice or text messages from point A to B. I really do not need one that can pick up signals from UFOs, Russian spaceships or whatever.
We are both spellbound in the bookshop that seems to have something for someone. I grab a thriller and promise myself that over the weekend, I will switch off my phone and get lost in the gory plot. My friend opts for a girlie romance and a couple of gossip mags.
Then it is for a look at the eateries and but we opt to just have drinks. We sit at the tables and futilely plan how to hide or justify this latest round of extravagance to the accountants that we are both married to. At our home, the lecture on responsible spending and staying within The Budget (by hubby) may result in a few sulks (mine), but the escapade has been worth it.
We take the escalator back to the sunken ground floor and find that we have to spend three minutes in a queue to leave our parcels at the shopping counter. It appears as though all the 18 000 shoppers who reportedly flock to Joina City everyday are gathered in there. We go in and look around. There is everything from diapers and spices to roll-on and frozen pizza. We do not buy anything as the queues are just too much.
But even in the middle of the sea of people, we feel safe. With guards all over, ready to smartly send all would-be loiterers on their way, Joina provides a stark contrast from the neighbouring Fantasyland where touting cabmen, vendors, conmen, pickpockets and beggars have taken over.
There are still a couple of essential services still to open, like the dry cleaners, but this corner has successfully been wrestled back and this is one city we have definitely fallen in love with.
monica.cheru@zimpapers.co.zw
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