Average Joe's Blog

In the vanguard of desertification in Chivi where I grew up – where the ever-stretching years of drought and rapidly receding hairline of plant life has had people from all corners of the country thanking their lucky stars every day for ensuring they had dodged the black bullet of being Chivi natives – we always had a good giggle about how our elders struggled to pronounce some English words. Sometimes they passed this corruption onto their unsuspecting children, who would never know how some words came to be, until halfway through their lives. Words like musarinya (miscellaneous), and many others. You know them. I have just thought of bus stop; our elders thought the second s in stop, after bus was really unnecessary; so they just converted two words – bus stop – to just one – busstop . Which has gotten me to wonder whether the word history as we know it today is a bastardised version of two words – his, and story? Because if that is the case, it would really make sense with r

A man wonders why so many millions of a man's brothers and sisters are so wont to wish death on a man. An old man for that matter. Its so unAfrican. In a man's culture, men do not wish that a person dies - in a man's days of yore, when a wizard was caught inflangrante delicto , the thing to do was to cut off both ears, or hammer a nail onto the wizard's sneaky forehead.  Because death is too easy. Many of men have faced difficulties and chose to tie a rope around men's neck - it is easier to escape into bottomless oblivion than face a man's tribulations head on. Death is the easiest way out. Vakafa vakazorora . It is not just an adage. It is the truth. Why then would a man wish that a man dies? No; a man should not die. A man says a man should be kept alive and healthy - or kept in whatever state of being a man is when a man is finally caught. And a man needs to be taken to a man's home - not the one with that colourful roof on it; but the one i