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crawled aimlessly with flies hovering all over its tender and innocent face.
A gang of street kids could be seen nearby, gambling and firing barbs at each other.
So harsh were the words they exchanged that you could hear them tearing into one another’s hearts with the sharpness of a double-edged sword.
Other members of the gang wantonly hurled obscenities at women clad in trousers and other tight-fitting apparel. Their body conformation, skin colour and texture were factored in whenever the coarse and unpolished youths attacked the defenceless ladies.
“Dhafukorera,” “Katetetete,” “Tsvukesto” and “Gorosviba” are some of the insults that were exacted at women whose only crime was to pass through the headquarters of the uncouth characters.
A stone’s throw away was a drama group and a man walking on a wire strand.
On benches and flowerpots, sat a number of people who toyed around with their phones, perhaps waiting for an appointment.
Such are the scenes in Harare’s First Street Mall, once revered for its glitter and splendour.
The mall, which stretches from Robert Mugabe Road to Samora Machel Avenue, is now a pale shadow of its former self. It’s gone to the dogs. Unogona kutya demhe uchiti imbira!
If you want to see anything bad in its rightful colours, a walk in the mall will not disappoint.
Snobs and those awash with cash are now doing their shopping elsewhere. What with the way the mall has deteriorated?
Angova manjani, mablaito nekungoskenga bembera rakati peserere.
It’s as if the ghetto has come into town.
Everyone, including the financially-embarrassed and the ill-mannered are walking up and down the mall.
Hapana achanyara uye zvainyadzisa zviye tavekudada nazvo.
The First Street Mall has been degraded into something worse than an illegal market.
Even Timbuktu, that ancient Malian town notorious for gold trade, comes second best.
Musicians have also set bases there.
All sorts of orchestras singing both recorded and unrecorded hymns punctuated with guitar work that begs for serious refining are making their way into First Street.
Bare-breasted dancing queens have not been left out.
They too are showcasing their skills or lack thereof in broad daylight, providing cover for pickpockets and those who practice the dreaded mubobobo.
The mall is now worse than a people’s market.
There seems to be basically everything for everyone from the bad, the weird, the bizarre, the shocking and whatever bad word you may think of to complete the equation.
If you are so keen on spoiling your outing this Valentine’s Day, just take a stroll along the mall with respected people and your wish will be granted.
There is everything bad and little good to talk about in relation to First Street these days. It’s just no longer the place.
Walking in the mall is now almost like how best not to spend a day. Mbanje peddlers, smokers, fishmongers and wheeler dealers are now all over the show.
There are also now herbalists operating in the mall.
These assist with potions for conception and some to enhance virility and masculinity. People are selling all manner of things in the First Street Mall.
“Mushonga wamapete, wemakonzo. Mapadza endebvu nemutsvairo unemutengo wakarohwa nechando,” you hear vendors advertising their wares.
“Dollar, padollar airtime nemaline US$2 chete,” shouts another eagle-eyed vendor always on the lookout for municipal cops who often arrest them and seize their wares.
Egg vendors are all over the mall where they offer their customers chilli and salt to make the eggs tastier and good enough to titillate the tastebuds.
Even sellers of pirated CDs operate in the mall, right under the nose of the police who ironically also provide a market.
Mad men also stay in the mall where they are assured of crumbs from the haves. If they fail to get anything, they simply frighten a soul or two to get food.
If you want vegetables, you might not need to get into a supermarket.
Women often spread their sacks on pavements to sell tomatoes, onions and leaf vegetables.
Whenever police approach, the vegetables are stashed under motor vehicles or in some manholes.
These female vendors sometimes offer sex on bad days to make the trip home after their wares would have been confiscated.
A lot happens in the mall, gentle reader to the point of some people using it as a dwelling place.
There are families that put up in the First Street Mall with a man and his wife covering themselves with one cardboard box and their children in yet another cardboard box.
During times of cash shortages and long queues, some families make a killing by offering to hold front positions for people in bank queues.
Teenagers sell drugs there while prostitutes sell sex right in the heart of the city.
Fly-by-night dubious indigenous briefcase companies also ply their trade from pavements in the mall.
Hairdressers also do business on the pavements.
Yours truly fees sorry for scores of businesspeople in the mall. Their resilience is being tested in the most difficult way by unregistered people who operate right in front of their shops despite the fact that they do not pay rent to council.
Bogus deals are also done openly in the First Street Mall and its not uncommon to find someone crying after being duped.
You are lucky to walk through the mall without falling because of banana peels that are everywhere and the smell from the uncollected garbage is unbearable.
Yobs selling stolen phones are seen drinking beer openly in the mall. Some people relieve themselves in the mall, making it worse than a slum.
Wonder workers and drama clubs punctuate activities in the mall where they have set camp to glean cash from the people. Council has not made the situation any better. Uncollected garbage, gaping holes that are not refilled with earth and disused pipes show how not well the council is managing the mall.
It is rare to walk in the mall and fail to see people fighting or mounds of uncollected garbage.
The glory has departed, the First Street Mall yearns for a facelift.