Book Excerpt: The Uncertainty of Hope by Valerie Tagwira

April 23rd, 2008 by Ben - Editor

Valerie Tagwira’s The Uncertainty of Hope, first published by Weaver Press in Zimbabwe, has just been released in South Africa by Jacana.

The novel won a Nama Award earlier this year, and has been described by Charles Mungoshi - Zimbabwe’s unofficial novelist laureate - as “an astonishing debut”.

Tagwira’s storyline captures how precarious the future is for the inhabitants of Mbare, a township of Harare, Zimbabwe, in 2005 - and makes for lively, engaging and sobering reading in 2008. BOOK SA is pleased to bring you an excerpt:

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Silas looked confused. He sought an explanation from his friend.

‘Bhururu, I’ve heard about sanctions many times on the news. They said that the sanctions are something to do with travelling bans on important people. How can that cause our company to have money problems? How?’ he asked. Gari took an impatient pull of his cigarette. He was in no mood to educate Silas about sanctions, so he remained silent.

Silas went on worriedly, ‘You talk about starting our own businesses, but where would we get the money from?’

Gari’s annoyance increased. Why was Silas questioning him as if he had the power to miraculously solve the country’s problems?
Everything was bleak. He was aware that interest rates for bank loans were very high. They were also adjusted regularly to keep up with inflation which was said to be running above six hundred per cent. In any case, very few people would ever qualify for a bank loan. The repayment conditions were impossible to comply with. National funding for small-scale enterprises had declined to almost nothing years ago. So, raising the finance was nothing but a dream. He pulled on his cigarette again and exhaled. The dream went up in smoke and dissipated into the light breeze of early evening.

‘Cheer up Silas! Tiri varume, we are men. We must not panic like a bunch of women. We will face the problems when they come. No use worrying now. It won’t solve anything,’ he said forcefully as they stopped to cross an intersection on Rotten Row. He’d lost interest in both the conversation and in his half-smoked cigarette, which he stubbed out fiercely and placed back in the packet. This kind of talk was too depressing.

The whole thing was an outright threat to his manhood. What would happen to him if he stopped earning a regular salary? Silas looked at Gari and smiled. He spoke with sudden brightness,

‘You’re right. Let’s wait and see what will happen.’ He hit Gari playfully on the back and asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, ‘Ko ‘small house’ yakadii? How is the new Missis?’

Thinking about Gloria lifted Gari’s spirits considerably. ‘Small houses,’ the new euphemism for mistresses, were the best thing to happen to a man. Spending some time with Gloria was guaranteed pure bliss because Onai was not at home. She had been taken to hospital in the early hours of the morning by that interfering mad woman, Katy.

Well, he would make the most of this opportunity. Some chances only ever came once. He made up his mind to spend the night with Gloria. Thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, he licked the dryness from his lips. ‘Small house, ndizvo. Gloria is the most exciting woman I’ve ever been involved with.’ His thick lips parted into a proud, wolfish smile. He gave a low whistle and kicked playfully at another stone.

Again, it hurt. He cursed himself and slowed down to a limp. ‘Are you sure Onai won’t find out about Gloria? Her shack is only at the top of Jo’burg Lines. You know these women. All they do is gossip. What if Onai hears something about you and Gloria?’ Silas sounded concerned.

Gari stopped and replied slowly and carelessly, ‘Ndezvake izvo! That’s her own problem. I really don’t care if she finds out. If she can’t live with it, she’s free to go anytime’.

Silas raised his eyebrows doubtfully. ‘I still think you should have someone a bit further from home. Like that girlfriend you had a couple of years ago, that Sheila from Highfields. That’s what you need, a small house in a place as far away as Highfields or Glen View. Your wife will never find out.’

‘I told you, I don’t care if she does. Anyway, guess where Sheila is living now?’ Gari held his sides and laughed uncontrollably.

‘Kupi? Ari kupi Sheila? Where is she?’ Silas was curious.

‘She is now my lodger, you know … in the shack.’ Gari laughed harder. ‘Remember that crazy lodger I had … that teacher who thought he was so educated? The one who kept saying he knew exactly how to solve the country’s economic problems?’

Silas nodded. Both men remembered the young schoolteacher, an intense, almost fanatical man who had kept them entertained at the beerhall. He’d been bursting with bizarre ideas about how the country should be managed. Many of his suggestions had been close to what most of the beerhall regulars considered barefaced treachery. It had not taken long for him to earn a reputation as an ‘enemy of the people’. Mutengesi chaiye. Word had it that he had fled to the UK to seek asylum, like so many others before him.

Gari continued, ‘Anyway, when he left, Onai introduced Sheila as our new lodger the following week. I was shocked but Sheila just pretended that she didn’t know me. I don’t think she’ll say anything to Onai. She’s been living with us for about six months now,’ he said, looking relaxed and unperturbed.’

Silas shook his head. It was clear that he did not approve of Gari’s behaviour, but his friend did not really care. He had Gloria. What more could a man want? The two men parted with a promise to meet up for a beer the following day after work.

≈≈≈

Gloria sat on the edge of the bed in her poorly-lit shack and waited for Gari. The wooden shack was a small, confined space with a very low
ceiling. It was just the right height for Gloria, but definitely not for Gari, who had to stoop. There was no proper window, save for a high, incredibly small aperture covered in plastic sheeting; thick but translucent.

The opening allowed in a dull sliver of twilight, barely illuminating the room. Only the exquisite bed-linen in deep, luxurious reds, lent colour to the room. Gloria’s friend had brought her the linen from Botswana as a special favour. According to her, shades of red worked wonders on a man’s passion.

A grey suitcase stood forlornly in one corner, just below an assortment of clothing that was hanging loosely from coat-hangers. In the other corner was a primus stove, a clutter of cooking utensils and a few groceries. Various other items peeped from under the bed, as if seeking out additional space.

Gloria had worked herself up into a blistering temper. She had spent a fruitless day in Harare city centre, waiting in a mealie-meal queue. Violent rioting had erupted as soon as the delivery van arrived. The police had been called to restore order, which they had effected with indiscriminate force and sadistic delight. She had received several baton-stick blows before managing to break away empty-handed from the melée. She was still smarting from the encounter. Hearing that her previous partner had died of an HIV-related illness, just that morning, did not help matters. Fear and anger wrestled with her sanity.

Gloria had no illusions about her own HIV status. She was shrewd enough to realise that it was just a matter of time before the inevitable happened. She did not want to die a lonesome death on the streets of Mbare, or in a ditch somewhere, as had happened to some of her dearest friends in the profession. She needed a man to call her own, a man who would look after her when HIV laid its claim upon her.

It was payback time for all the men to whom, for so little money, she had given so much pleasure. Gari would have to pay the outstanding dues for all of them. He would have to marry her. It was obvious that she would not get anyone better. The rest of the men had a tendency to disappear with astounding speed whenever she mentioned marriage.

But Gari was different. Clearly devoted, he struck her as someone who would stay. So he would have to do. As a second wife, she would have special treatment anyway. Being a ‘small house’ was definitely the way to go. No relationship could give a girl better security or more comfort.

Gari’s wife would be no problem at all. With any luck, he might even be persuaded to divorce her. She knew just how she would persuade him when the time came. When Gari arrived at Gloria’s shack, his dreams of an evening of pleasure in her arms were promptly thwarted. He found her in an unexpected rage.

She fumed and hurled accusations at him. ‘You only want to use me. You just come here to sleep with me and you don’t even care that I live in a miserable shack. If you love me as much as you say, why don’t we just get married?’

Despite her anger, she looked beautiful in the soft candlelight. Still, that did not lessen his worries. This disagreeable side of Gloria’s nature had not been previously revealed to him. It was far removed from the sweetness of the girl who’d caught his eye … a girl whose unbridled passion matched no other … a girl who spoke and acted as if she’d been born to please men. He pleaded with her while trying to buy precious time.

‘Calm down my sweetheart. We have to talk seriously about this and make proper plans. Please? We can’t just suddenly get married.’

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