Of MISSING DIAMONDS: I want my share. A review

 Genre: Contemporary

MISSING DIAMONDS: I want my share. A review

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I attended the premiere of a one man satirical play titled MISSING DIAMONDS: I want my share by Silvanos Mudzvova.

Technically speaking this was not the debut performance of the play; the first performance was staged outside the parliament building on Wednesday Question and Answer Session and ended a few minutes into the thirty minute play when the actor was whisked away by the police.

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The actor says that the play was not meant for theater but in theater one can exercise their freedom of artistic expression.  Initially the actor intended to stage his performance four times, once at the parliament building, then at the Chinese Embassy, Mbada Diamonds offices and at Anjin Investments, but has since received multiple invitations some of which are international.

The play was inspired by the president making an admission that the country had “lost” 15 Billion  dollars worth of diamond revenue. This missing 15 billion also sparked a lot of internet responses ranging from absurd to some pertinent….

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The actor says 15 billion dollars is far too much money for people and Parliamentarians to stop talking and asking about it.

I have never been to a one-man play let alone a satirical one and so I didn’t know what to expect.

The play opens with the actor giving a narration of his thoughts on the missing money and how he calculates that divided by the population of the country each person is entitled to slightly over $1000 but he would settle on a round figure of $1000 subject to tax and any other banking expenses. He proceeds as if he is in parliament asking “Honourables” about his share, then the story flashes back to events that preceded him ending up where he is, in front of members of parliament.

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You watch through multi-character portrayal how a billion dollar diamond operation runs for years, yet the ordinary people do not benefit as they journey through a pothole ridden road, destroyed by traffic carrying diamonds. You see how elected officials live in luxury  and the ordinary folk  in poverty, all he wants is his share of the obvious vast wealth they are spending, who must he ask, when the police well, are more an agent of oppression. He would rather ask the president directly, but the president is a man for too busy and important to deal with regular folk so he will talk to parliamentarians who are close to the president and elected to ask on his behalf, and so he goes to parliament.

The play is mixture of hilarious, poignant and some hard hitting reflections as he asks the audience questions as if they are part of the play and you never really know if he is being rhetoric or the show is interactive. The highlight of the play was when he says all he wants is $1000 but imagine someone plotting to have all 15 billion for themselves and launches into skits showing how people would lavishly spend such money if they had it “kalife kemari” (That money life) He changes character with the change of a hat so you can tell whom he is playing, and with lots of innuendo refers to government officials never mentioning anyone by name but if you know, you would connect the dots.

Towards the end of the play Silvanos likens the people to the baboon of the hare and baboon folktales, where clever tsuro(hare) would always get the better of gudo( baboon), they take from us and all we do is chase but never catch them. He calls us coward thinking we can change the world via social media. The last statement is a declaration that he is not asking the money for himself but for the country so that if it’s in the system each one can benefit some from the money.

As I watched this production sometimes I looked around like expecting police to bust through and arrest everyone in attendance I don’t know where I got such a thought as there was hardly anything treasonous in the play but it just goes to show how stifled freedom of expression is and we are shocked by anyone voicing any public opinions while we only hide behind social media, maybe we are cowards, afraid to let out voices be heard.

In as much as plays go this might not be the best play I have seen but it is the most thought provoking and dare I say controversial, definitely a must see.

I could not help but give Mr Mudzvova my respect for his bravery in staging his performance at parliament and all others places he intends because I could never ask the questions he asked even if in satirical play. He got a standing ovation I am sure people who were there felt something of the same and one person even asked him if he was not afraid.

Mr Mudzvova said he was afraid, but that would stop him from giving voice to issues that need to be said. He speaks for those who have no voice for those afraid to use theirs.

And his question still haunts me, 15 billion dollars is far too much money to let simply just vanish without a trace……. 

~B

Photocredit News Day

This week I try something a little different from my regular posts.

#BlogBattle Theme: Voice

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Of Coffee: A Candlelit Affair

If you were having coffee with me ……….

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If you were having coffee with me, we would be having coffee by candlelight. This is courtesy of the power utility company who just switch off the electricity for no reason. Ok it’s not really for no reason its something called load-shedding, when the electricity usage becomes too high they flip a switch and here we are sitting in the dark.

Fortunately I had candles. I always keep them handy even though we do not get as many power cuts as we used to, I hope it’s a good sign, there was a time when we had no more than a few hours of electricity per day. Electricity was like that errant spouse who left before you woke up, only to come back after you went to bed.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you about this one time when I was having dinner by candlelight. The thing about candles, they are not very bright, they don’t talk and shed very little light, even if you move the candle as close to your plate as possible and lean so near into the light that  you smell something burning as the ends of your hair start smoking and possibly burst into flames (hair is spectacularly inflammable especially if well oiled and moisturised) or you singe your eyebrows, you still won’t really see clearly the stuff in your plate. Imagine you throw the last piece from your plate  in your mouth thinking it’s a cubed potato you were saving as a dessert, and turns out to be something else.

Anyway, so there I was eating my supper and there just had to be this big bone, and I was attacking it whole-heartedly, trying to suck out the bone marrow, that’s the best part, so it’s said. So there I am busy licking and sucking you know, really going at that bone at all angles, then suddenly the lights came on, because the power was back, and I had a close encounter with my dinner.

In my hands was the complete jawbone of a pig with teeth and all….. I inspected it in the light and to my horror I had been busy giving tongue action to the teeth of it… some of them were clearly cleaner, sparkling even, compared to the others which were covered in layers of plaque and lawd knows what else pigs eat…  Anyway pigs ain’t the most dentally hygienic animals that’s all I will say…

How I did not squeal and throw up right then and there is a testament to the skills I once told you about (see here)  but it was still quite shocking I even thought of following up on a pain and suffering lawsuit against the power utility company  but heck they got enough problems of their own.

Now I am all for not eating the heads of animals especially pigs and fish but that’s for another reason, it’s hard to eat something clearly looking at you.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that what’s cooked in the dark should be eaten in the dark… And what goes on in the kitchen is a story for another.

Now hurry up and finish your coffee before the lights come on.coffee

 

Of The Muse In You: The Beginning

Becoming The Museum

My auto-correct does this cute little thing, every time I type the word museum it sneaks in the word museum with hilarious consequences. It’s  interesting how it tries to finish my sentences with its next word prediction but on the upside it inspired me to start a new story.

But I need your help, yes you its simple, muse me, be my museum of muses.

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I will write a lil short story, and at the end of it there will be a choice of how the story should proceed, you tell me; and at the end of the week I will pick the most popular choice and continue the story from there to the next set of choices, where the story leads nobody knows, making it up as I go along.

The Muse in you……..The beginning.

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Take a chance” that was the message I found in the fortune cookie I ate for breakfast. The piece of paper was lay there on table not going away.  I am not overly superstitious but sometimes, you know how you get that funny feeling, that the universe is trying to tell you something, I had that feeling.

I powered on my laptop and a notification for two new emails popped up.

The first message was some spam email from Daily Horoscopes, I kept meaning to unsubscribe but never got round to it, sometimes the messages were little inspirational gems. Today’s message read:

A wonderful opportunity awaits you today….

I know the messages were some generic computer generated messages but sometimes they brought a smile to my face. Maybe thats why I never got round to unsubscribing to them, that and sometimes those were the only new emails I got and those that started “Dear Sir we regret to inform you……”

The second message, was some email, I did not recognize the sender and the subject line read Dear Reader. That’s how you got a virus on your machine by clicking on emails from unknown people.

I was about to click on the [Delete ALL]  button without even reading when I happened to glance at the little piece of paper beside the laptop “Take A Chance….”

What happens next; you tell me:

  1. Mark as spam then Delete Delete Delete
  2. Take A Chance

~B

 

Of The White Mischief

Genre: Romance

Picnic with The Princess was not quite what I expected. Anticipation sets you up for disappointment. You have all these fairy-tale fantasies, you see, but real live princesses are human.

The day started great, I woke up bright and early, went to the gym and then wore a long sleeved shirt but with the sleeves rolled up. If you got, it flaunt it right?

Then I waited, and waited and waited.

I fought the urge to call and ask her if something had happened, maybe an accident or maybe she had cancelled the picnic date. The thing about royalty is like;they are like the sun you,  it is all nice and bright till it decides to roast you and no one can ask why. I would know this, my grandfather had been grooming me because between my brother and I one of us would be his heir, the next Chief.

I must have dozed off because I woke up with a start and she was looming over me whispering “Wakey wakey, sleepy head” in that baby voice that’s only cute on babies.

Sorry I am late, but one doesn’t rush beauty

I mumbled something in reply and off we went to the picnic at the lake. We had booked a leisurely boat ride at Manyuchi dam aboard The White Mischief.

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White Mischief

To go on a boat ride, first you must get into the boat, the pier to the boat was  wet and muddy, it had been raining for the past couple of days. And little Miss Princess just happened to be wearing rather unsensible shoes, lovely shoes but not very practical. She got  stuck fast on the pier and I had to carry her the rest of the way, it’s a good thing I workout.

Finally when we had settled aboard The White Mischief that’s when I realised amidst all the excitement had forgot to get the picnic basket. It’s not like we were hungry we could still just drift along the river and enjoy the ride. But the princess had other plans she was not one to sit silently and just enjoy the scenery, she pointed out everything and used that baby voice again, whoever told her it was flattering lied to her, it got on my nerves ever so much.

Wait till I told my brother X, he would laugh and laugh and probably say my problem is I wasn’t a charmer like he was.

Shark! Shark!” She screamed.

There are no sharks in  this river.” I tried to calm her

“Look! There! That dark shape?”

“Its not a shark its only a log do try to stop rocking the boat” But she was getting hysterical by the second; twisting and turning, this way and that and totally  rocking the boat. The thing about rocking the boat, it starts tilting sideways so much that you tumble out into the water you go.

Out went the princess and with splash landed in the water.

“Help!” she cried “ I cant swim “ she screamed.

It’s a good thing we wore life jackets so she was floating about like a balloon.

I jumped into the water and pulled her to the shallow edge of the river.I figured she would be grateful I had saved her life but no first thing she did was to poke me in the chest and say this was her worst date ever.

All I could say was ” But look it was only a log” pointing at what she had said was a shark.

She was fine but her outfit was entirely ruined and she was not amused. She stormed away in a huff. I would have chased her but the boat was drifting away slowly floating along the river, I had to swim out and secure it back by the pier.

It was a fairly easy task and I was done in a little while.

I was surprised to see my housekeeper by the shore waiting with the picnic hamper.

You forgot this and I thought I would bring it over, but…. I see you had a bit of a disaster date

Yeah it didn’t quite work out, and I had rented the boat for the whole day what a waste

“I__” she started and stopped

What were you gong to say?” I asked.

I have never been on a boat.” she confessed

“You are in luck, you know what, I shall take you on a ride let me carry the picnic basket”

We went on the boat ride didn’t talk much, that companionable silence that does not need to be filled with meaningless words.

We sailed in The White Mischief and watched a water lily float away into the sunset.

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~The End

My #blogbattle entry themed Float

A continuation you can read previous parts of this story here.

~B

A budding romance story

Of Interludes In The Changing Lights

  Genre: Mystery

It just had to be a blazing hot day how fitting, as if he needed anything else to not go his way. The past couple of days had been so cold, everyone swore that the winter season was here. When he had left the house in the morning, he had paid no mind to the weather report when they said it would be a sunny, hot day with a chance of rain, they were after all always wrong fifty percent of the time.

Today would be a cold day, just like yesterday and the day before yesterday, and the day before that.

He was dressed in a heavy woolen three piece suit, perfect for a cold winter’s day. His suit was a bit threadbare since he had been rather abusing it wearing  it every other day but people could tell he came from money or at least that he used to be. He liked to think of himself as the prodigal son, one day his father would let him come back home and money would no longer be a problem again except how to spend it.

The weatherman had been right, the sky was clear and the sun was bearing down on him with impunity of a one squashing an insignificant ant. The sun could do as it pleased, it could kill him as it obviously was trying to do. He was sweating profusely but refused to even so much as loosen his tie, after all they say “a gentleman knows no weather”, and a gentleman’s armour was his suit. He was not really a gentleman but appearances where everything, you become what you seem.

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He stood at the traffic lights controlled intersection, with a pile of flyers in his hand, trying to look important and when the traffic lights turned red and the traffic stopped he zipped from car to car and knocked at the windows and tried to hand the people in the cars his flyers.

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Some drivers would not even spare him a glance as if they were totally engrossed with watching the traffic lights so that they could speed away, away from him as soon as the light turned green

Some drivers would make that hand signal that meant “I don’t have” and emphasize that with a shake of the head to say no. They probably thought he was asking for money, like a common beggar as they refused to even make eye contact with him. Other drivers would just roll down the window and press a handful of change into his hands and wind up the window, he was quite affronted by such a blatant display of pity. They pitied him, did they know who he was, what his story was or even, that his father probably owned half this city and yes when he was back in the family fold he would pay them back.

Sometimes he managed to hand the flyers to the drivers or even passengers if any windows were open he would just throw the flyers into the car. To his dismay after all that effort, some people would through the flyers away like they were not worth the paper they were printed on.green.jpg

He tried to memorize each face behind the wheel, he was very good with faces, and when the traffic lights turned green, he wrote down number-plates of all the cars whose atrocious behavior he deemed offensive. Yes, he would pay them back each and everyone of them, he was a man of his word after all which is why he was out here handing flyers.

Well that was not exactly true he had  thrown away the stack of flyers but they kept coming back like a bad penny and the last time they had carried a warning which he felt was rather ominous. The Doctor was not the type of person one tangled around with.

He took a look at the flyers he was handing out, The Doctor claimed he could

Bring back lost lovers
Remove unwanted persons
Give good luck
Make you rich quick quick
And charms for any ailment imaginable….

 

 

And here X was busy spreading the flyers to lure people into The Doctor’s fraud schemes. If he had a choice he would be doing something else but he had no choice, he bore it, he was a gentleman, right? Even if The Doctor was a no goo____

He didn’t finish the thought as a cold, large drop of something landed on his head, first he thought a bird had done its business right above him, but there was another followed by another and soon it was torrent of rain. Just his luck rain, the weatherman was right again, he would have to call it a day as cars would now just speed past him and they did even obey the traffic lights when it rained. A little bit of rain and suddenly all the rules of the road went out the window, maybe rain made people insane, who knew.

As he was walking away, a car sped past a red light swerving  too close to the curb splashing water from a puddle all over him, soaking his suit through and through, even the flyers he was holding got wet. A few paces down the road, his spirits slightly lifted when he passed the car which had splashed him stopped by the traffic police who had arrived to bring some sanity back on the roads.

The driver was being given a ticket for some traffic violations, X hoped that the ticket was a hefty one, karma right? Bad things had a way of happening to people who got on the wrong side of The Doctor.

Maybe he wasn’t such a fraud, after all, and somewhere not too far from there, The Doctor was peering into a strange glass and muttered  to himself in that hypnotic silky voice “yes, yes, yes you begin to learn my dear X” and he laughed.

~The End

My #BlogBattle entry themed Ticket

The story continues from the last time here

~B

 

Of Coffee On A Fishy Trip

 

If  you were having coffee with me…….lakeside coffee.jpg

If you were having coffee with me we would be having a hot cuppa in the great outdoors like a picnic. We would be going fishing and of course we would have a flask of hot coffee, and some tasty sandwiches which I got up at the crack of dawn to make.

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Have a sandwich, I hope you like chicken, I killed the chicken myself and now we are going to catch fish and have it for supper. You had best be wearing something warm, the weather seems to have decided not only is winter coming “Stark WordsWinter Is Here, its cloudy with a chance of  rain. The weather Forecast says “Expect heavy rains”, funny I didn’t know the sky was pregnant.

If you were having coffee with me we would be going to the lake, Lake Chivero. We would stop along the way to buy worms because its all about the bait, ask any good fisherman, I would not know not though, that’s what the guy who sells worms said, but suspect he only says that to get you to buy his worms.

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They say give a man a fish and feed him for a day, but teach a man the fine of art of fishing and he will find an excuse to go to the lake and lounge the day away….. It’s a bit windy would you like a nip of whiskey in your coffee, it’s single malt, slow brewed, extra matured and tastes like oak or is it woody anyway I won’t tell if you won’t tell.

The thing about fishing is that there is a fine line between fishing and standing with fishing rod in hand looking awesomely foolish. Have a swig of whiskey ooops I mean coffee and lets wile away the day.

If you were having with me, we would go for a boat ride, if you pay a modest fee, they rent out a canoes for the day, they even include life jackets and warn you not to row to far else you might get in a current. It feels a bit unsteady as if it might topple over but after a while you get used to it but try not to think about lochness monsters, leviathans and krakens and the harder you try to not think about something, goosebumps.

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Oh no, while we were out on the boat, some bright spark thought the worms were thirsty and poured whiskey into the can of worms, now they are all dead, alcohol kills worms. So we have no more bait which is our valid excuse for why we did not catch any fish. Isnt it fortunate that there fisherman who sell fish just close by so will buy one or two big ones  and pretend we caught them.

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Shhhh *conspiratorial wink* no one need ever know and when someone asks we shall smile that knowing smile and say “You should have seen the one that got away….. it was a leviathan

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The afternoon rain forecasted has started and we have to be going now, glad you hung around on our fishing trip so long and thanks for all the fishes♥♥♥♥

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~B

 

 

 

 

Of A Particular Set Of Indiscriminate Skills

Genre: comedy

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I have long since acquired a particular set of skills, skills which include not being overly fussy about the food I, I will find food and I will eat it.
I do not mean to brag, I can eat anything and I have eaten what I have killed, many times, not that I am auditioning for to be on an episode of Survivor.

Very little surprises me, being a mission boarding school product…

<blockquote>where the head cook’s finger goes missing and a fingernail turns up in your meal, a lizard’s tail blending into hot vegetables like its got chameleon skills, and it’s still wriggling around even in death despite being cooked…..and footsteps in the night</blockquote>

When it comes down to starve or eat….  I pick not starving. I do not discriminate against anything edible based on calories rating or aesthetic appearance, unless it smells bad, there is always an exception.

I have a knack for finding exceptions to every rule, which is a really a fancy way of saying I do not follow rules, especially rules I do not like which are usually rules that do not make sense, what do you mean I before E except after C, see that is just weird. 
This also includes generalisations, I never include myself even in my own generalisations, I am not most people, I am unique, just like everyone else.

Apart from toughening up my digestive system and learning the fine arts of skipping ice cold showers and still appearing as if you bathed; (mostly in the winter season but again there were exceptions.)
I also acquired a set of skills that make me lethal to chickens. As a practical in Agriculture lessons we had to rear the school’s chickens and then dined on them on Thursday and Sundays meals but they had to be slaughtered first.

The first chicken was the hardest, you always remember your first kill, but it gets easier and you get faster more efficient and make a whole lot less of a bloody mess.
So I can kill and fancy dress a chicken in many different ways mind bending ways with or without a knife and jug of hot water in just under five minutes. The are many way to kill a chicken and I have applied several of those in real life situations.
I think that’s pretty impressive stuff but do not tell that to my niece who still wants to know what happened to her pet chicken “Huku”, we had Huku for dinner, not as a guest but stir fried with a generous serving of salad.

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Huku

Moral of that bit of the story is do not make pets of your dinner menu, never play with your food.

I watched this documentary about how they train child soldiers in some countries by making them look after a pet, killing and finally eating it (it was some intense stuff) I am not saying my mission school experience in anyway made me a soldier but if war against chickens ever breaks out, or if we had to hunt for our own food….. I would as they say in the movies when giving Executive Orders to Execute  terminate with extreme prejudice

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zombie chicken

Years later here I am thinking how I am all prepared for life, death and the chicken apocalypse (it’s kinda like the Zombie Apocalypse but with chickens trying to perk your eyes out)….. Yes I definitely have an indiscriminate set of skills, if any chicken is reading this, I will find you and I will eat you.

~B

#BlogBattle Entry themed Indiscriminate and yes I watched Liam Neeson’s movie Taken Countless times 🙂

P.S. if you ever need a chicken killed I am your guy