Diaries of a village idiot abroad

Diary of the village idiot abroad (3)

[Satire] Vokal da Poet reflects on the lives of Zimbabweans who have left the country in search of greener pastures. 

Marasmus at his daily gig
Marasmus at his daily gig

Of all my relatives, Marasmas is the one with no brains.His real name was Erasmus, but someone decided that Marasmas was better. Marasmas was silly. He laughs at me that I love Mai Chengetayi. He says Baba Chengetayi has finished with her already. He says he wants to marry a virgin, and he will open her himself and finish her.

But what Marasmas is always forgetting was that if babamunini Maikoro had not agreed to inherit his mother after babamukuru Johnson died, he would never have been born. He is lucky that babamunini did not have the same ideas that he has.

Second hand

And you know what? He wants to sleep with a virgin on a bed that was used by other people because he did not buy that bed and he does not have the money to buy a new bed anyway. We all know that no one shops in the shops anymore in Zimbabwe. Even the shop owners now sell their second hand things from China outside their shops.

Zimbabwe is the only country in the world I know where a person who is given a used laptop by a relative living outside, can resale it and manage to pay rent with the money. No one gives anyone anything in Zimbabwe, people sell their second hand gifts. I can even sell my underwear.
But here in South Africa, if you open it’s box, you will not sell it for good money.
Even a car.
Everything loses value here. No one wants a used thing.


And you know the white people here, they are good people. They do not throw away their things, they give to others. Very African.
You know, if my whiteman does not want anything anymore, he gives me, and if I don’t want it anymore, I send it home. I have been given two beds by my whiteman so far. And the other one my mother gave to Marasmas.
And he is going to sleep with his virgin wife on that bed. A virgin wife he is going to approach wearing the clothes we give to him. You know these people like Marasmas, they like to talk too much. They forget that a woman is the only thing that must not lose it’s value. People with money marry women who are not virgins, so what about Marasmas who doesn’t have money?

You know, and this is the way people have always lived. People inherit things because they know that what is old to someone is new to someone. Women too.
My grandfather used to say that we inherit everything. We even inherited the Smith way of life, and their parliament, and laws, and everything.


We are inheritors, and sometimes we inherit the wrong things.
Like, the rompers I wore as a baby were inherited by my mother’s sister’s daughter, and she gave them to their brother’s wife for her son. And then it was Marasmas who last inherited them.
People shared what they had and no one walked around saying I gave this one that thing, and if it wasn’t for me that one will suffer. No. Giving each other things was a way of showing that I love you and someone inheriting something from someone means you love them too. If the thing was not too old, someone could use it.

I think that is how people spread AIDS. The condoms do not get old, so I think people would give each other after using it. And would only stop after the condom was broken.
Ask anyone, everyone says they use condoms when sleeping with other people.


Vokal da Poet is a Zimbabwean poet. The spoken word artist has interacted, shared 4 minute memoirs, performed and created material with audiences at house shows, universities, conferences, schools, festivals, art shows… “I have performed to an audience of three, performed on a train ride, done bars and impromptu street shows.” And it is his ability to be honest that has him connecting with audiences well. Vokal DaPoet seamlessly weaves autobiography, first hand eye witness account and fiction in his spoken word presentations.

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