A Horror Story...... In a Public Toilet.

I always cringe when I realize I need to use the bathroom and I’m “trapped” in a public place. When you visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck. 

In Asia; they use this system where they hose down after relieving themselves; hence the floor is wet and you really don’t want to imagine what this colorless liquid could be.

You yank down your pants. The floor is thoroughly disgusting and your favourite jeans are on the verge of being soaked in the unknown colorless liquid. Panic attack. You fumble as you try to roll them up. Keep in mind your bladder is about to explode. There’s a drip and you assume “The Stance."

In this position, high muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." Your new years resolutions come to mind. I really should work out now. Urgh

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear yourself saying, "Babe, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have known there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

 And then it hits you! You’ve just touched the germ ridden toilet paper dispenser! Ew..

You remember the tiny tissue that you keep in your bag to clean your sunglasses with- the one that's still in your bag. Oh yeah, the bag around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail! Is there a tissue monster in your purse; eating up all your tissue?

No time to wonder cause someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits you and you topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you bang the door; only to realize your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the germ infested seat. You realize in your haste; you dropped your tissue and its now just a wet blop on the disgusting floor. 

As you stand there in awe, it finally hits you. That cold water which makes you uneasy; because you have stepped on the damned “horse-pipes” they install in every toilet. You shriek! Your beloved jeans are on the floor; you are soaked knees going down because of the damned horse pipes. How could you not have realized the water was still running? Yet again even if you had; you wouldn’t have touched that forsaken tap. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

 
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wait there looking like a fool as you watch how the woman on the next sink is doing it. Finally you get the hang of it and do likewise. You grab a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. Stupid toilet operators; they can afford to put paper towels yet simple tissue paper is such a hussle?

You are no longer able to smile politely to the women. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. Where was that little piece of shit when you needed it? Grr.. You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the horrible pungent bin at the door. Everyone has to suffer with you.Too bad if they don't have tissue

I have personally resorted to the washrooms which require you to pay. I’m not talking about the ones that ask for a few cents. I’m willing to spend 2ringgits on a washroom visit in a place where they offer me both Wet wipes and a 10s lil’ packet of pocket tissue. The place smells lovely; the toilets are automatic and I don’t have to touch any disease ridden places. I can hook my bag up before I start and there’s hand sanitizer and lotion at the sink.

This is dedicated to my boyfriend. He always wonders why it takes me so long in the washroom. I hope it also gives you closure; why women go to the washroom in pairs. You need your girl to hold your purse for you; make sure no one budges in while you are at it and hussle for tissue paper on your behalf.

things that make you go ..Grr..Urgh..

Sometimes I just feel like clawing peoples eyes out.

Unofficial and unannounced visits 

 

Please don’t get me wrong_ I am not a relative hater. I just find it extremely annoying when people just pitch up at the house unannounced. You would think someone would have the decency to show up at Godly hours but au contraire; people will choose to show up before 7am or after midnight. Who does that? Back home; I live in a 3 bed roomed house and that is SMALL mind you. In the good ol’ days_ mum would make one of us give up their bed for the visitor and get the “luxury” mattress on the floor in the still available room. 




Now that we are grown; and some of my relatives are dubious characters_ Mum just fixes them up a temporary bed in the lounge as my sisters are adamant on leaving their rooms. 

Apparently; I am no longer entitled to any room in the house. I’m now the visitor; in my own mother's house..CHAI!!

Snide remarks on social networks  

 

This is an epidemic among women. Ladies, asi chii nhai? Remarks such as: 

“Ende diaspora iri kukubvuma wena”

“Uchiri wakanaka but matama ayo”

“Good living ka iyi ascana”

You’ve uploaded a great pic and someone just has to spoil it with a smart remark. I am not chubby in any sense; and I don’t have the model kind of body because Im 5 5” and I weigh below 55kgs. I’m quite petite. One remark concerning weight can derail your day.

However; I have devised a way of avoiding these haters; “Unfriend” on facebook and “unfollow” on twitter. Only my girls are allowed to comment on weight related issues as this is our thing. Plus; they know exactly what to say without hurting my feelings. So unless you are in this circle; save your comments.

Borrowing money that they will not give you back  

We all know; if you are in the Diaspora lending people money is a big No-No. The moment you lend someone money; you might as well include that on your bad debts at the end of the month. I would really appreciate it if people were honest enough to let me know right from the start: "I am sorry I will not be able to pay you back. Thank you for your help." 

That way; I can check to see if I can afford to cater for these Bad Debts.

I have really good friends and when one of us is low instead of giving her money_ we will pay for all her needs on that day. A great way to avoid any money related fiasco and ruining our friendship over a few dollars.

Make up Disasters  

 

I’m not the fashion guru myself but I’d like to believe I pull off most looks without coming across as a clown. How does one wake up; apply a ton of make up on everyday and end the day looking like a ton of shit? I am not a makeup hater; but if one ends up looking like theirs was done at Clown academy; it is a cause for concern. I shan’t comment on clothes; apparently this is a very touchy subject but shiny animal print leggings during the day? Really?


A girl should be two things; classy and fabulous_ Coco Chanel

Looking good never hurts.

I will digress a bit

Last night I had the chance to check out the prospective Miss Zimbabwe's. Miss Zimbabwe 2012 contestants Leave A Lot To Be Desired . I wish I were in the country at the moment. I would attend the show and see this “wonder” for myself. Is this true or is this a prank?

You can also check them out here

Being too involved 

Of late; I’ve realized the people I can confide in are not Zimbabwean. Not that I’m not a true sister; but I prefer telling my issues to either “the Mr.” or my confidantes. Somehow telling one Zimbabwean is as good as telling all 3000 of them. Yes I said it _ makuhwa too much. Everyone just wants to be involved way too much; and not for the purpose of helping but to gloat over your misfortune. So, to save myself the hussle; do not tell anyone anything!

Please don't get me wrong; I LOVE ZIMBABWEANS. These people rock but truth be said; havana (hatina)ma boundaries. 

 My countrymen just do not know when to stop.

Real Honesty in Love and Relationships

Heidi Klum and Seal are getting a divorce. Last week it was Katy Perry and Russell. People just don't  take their wedding vows seriously anymore. Maybe the vows need a touch up. As a result of dishonesty in love and relationships nowadays , I sought to give a sample of what honesty in a marriage ceremony would entail. Here goes:

We are gathered here in the presence of God and men to join these people in holy matrimony. We know they have been sleeping together in secret but now that can do it with the knowledge of everyone.

And as marriage is holy, at least in theory, I put it forth that if there is anyone in this gathering who has a valid reason why these two should not be joined, speak now or forever hold your peace.

 Anyone?

 Is there anyone?


C'mon, he must have slept with some of you?



 Someone?[needy voice]

Anyone?

I know someone here has slept with her too?

Well, I guess they were all one night stands.

Moving on. Mr. Groom, do you take this woman as your lawfully wedded bride, to love to cherish and to hold, to listen to her whining halfway through the night, always suck up to her father, to always lose an argument or else suffer the consequences, to listen to unending lies about her having a headache when you really need to release steam, put up with PMS, sometime faked;  till death do you part?


I DO

This is followed by low pitch whistles and yeah's (from the guys) and aww's, whooa's  and screaming (from the bride's girls)

Very well.

And do you Miss Bride; take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love to cherish and to hold. To cook for, clean up after, give up watching soaps and anything interesting when there is football, find the toilet seat up every time, Clean pee of it, take care of  kids alone, house his parents, Serve his friends during any important game for all the days of your life?

  
I DO 

Again; Low pitch whistles and yeah's (from the guys) and whooa's,aww's  and screaming (from the bride's girls)

Well then, I pronounce you husband and wife.

What God has joined, let no man, neighbor, handsome workmate, barmaid, beer brand, ex's, in-laws, milkman, gardener, driver or sexy secretary put asunder.

You may kiss the bride



If I were the one getting married; in my Shona culture ini hangu Mukaranga ; this is the part were my very capable friends, in-laws, aunties and Church mother break into Ululation and Dance. Leave the whistling to my uncles and the drunks who would have gate crashed my big Day. Tambourines and the whole lot from the church support group 

*Note: I did not mention my darling mum as part of the ululating squad as this is a skill she never mastered .She doesn't even bother trying as is is aware that she sucks. I've had walk down the stage on Prize giving days with her shouting "Mwana wangu iyeye" instead of the tradition mhururu.


Now THAT is what I call honesty in a relationship.

                                                                             Lovies

                                                                            

                                                         Tari

  

ways to avoid or survive a beating (Only in Africa)

Growing up; I was quite the mischievous child. Quite is an understatement. I was a bad ass kid; Denis the Menace and that Home Alone kid had nothing on me combined! I’m talking hard core menace; a nuisance in the house. I wasn’t your ordinary kid; the one’s that dip their hand in the sugar bowl. My brother and I were THE TEAM. We robbed the bread delivery trucks everyday for doughnuts and queen cakes. [That was the old Zimbabwe when tuckshops were located at infills and stuff ACTUALLY got delivered] 

                                                This look saved me from a lot of beatings

Our biggest heist; which to this day remains at the top of out “naughty” list was the time we robbed a tuckshop. We took everything; from the cash to the Kango cups and Mandrin* curry. When the cops showed up; they never suspected the innocent kids that live right next door to the tuckshop. We wiped that place clean and hid everything in a huge hole we had dug in the ground. The hole was the size of  a minivan; quite deep. We only got busted by our dad when the “ceiling” to our hide out collapsed as he was walking above it; but the “merchandise” was already gone. As you all know; when busted and you are young and naïve you confess everything. After the confession comes the ass whooping.

As a result of several beatings weekly; I devised a means and way to survive these beatings. One of these stories happened to close friends of mine and today; I will share.

                                                              

                                                                     ------------------------

I got so freaked out when my mum wanted to beat me up once because mum had the psychology down PAT. She would tell you how many strokes you would get.  She would tell you to go get the spoon, and just waited patiently knowing she'd increase the lashings if you disagreed. my mum was like "go get the spoon, you're getting 12 strokes." That was enough! I FLEW past her, ran down the yard, jumped over the gate, and was not seen for the rest of the night until she received a phone call from an aunt and uncle who lived in the next neighborhood saying they had a shoeless distraught child on their hands that belonged to her!

                                                                       -----------------------

Most of us children of African Heritage have been disciplined the African way. But seriously people, if the 'So Sho' services knew half of what went on in African households, most of us would have been in care! I mean, my parents would have so been done for child abuse! My dad's favorite was to cane us, and make us count each lash out loud. Try doing that through the pain and the tears .And then he'd have the cheek to ask 'what are you crying for?' [Really dude?!]
You just can’t get your head around their logic. As for my darling mum, her specialty was throwing objects without looking and hitting the target (me) on the head. I'm telling you, my mum could throw shoes around corners; Ma Tommy (Converse type of shoes); Sandak (all plastic shoes) and the likes. To this day I still can’t explain how that's done!

                                               

                                                                         ----------------------

*Running is the next best thing

The running circle is the best technique to minimise blows to the body. For example my rascal brother was once beaten up for cutting off the hair from my Barbie dolls. To cover this up; he glued the hair back on in the most ridiculous way (See; he wasn’t always the genius he is now) Get this; she beat him with the Barbie Doll he had disfigured as she held his arm and he ran trying to avoid the beating spinning in a circle as she held his arm [lol. good times]

                                                           

                                                                          ----------------------

My friend’s personal experience

I used to get beaten over EVERYTHING!! Slowly she'd ask’ “why did you do that?”

And I’d start to answer, shaking with fright.

Then WHAM! Rubber slipper aims straight for my head.

You think it's nothing but have you ever had a piece of rubber propelled towards your head before?

Then she'd go "DON'T EVER TALK BACK TO ME!!!"
“Why did you do that? What child did I raise?! I wasn't like that when i was younger!!! Where did you pass?!?!”

 And because they're divorced she would always blame my father

“THIS IS YOUR FATHER'S FAULT!!! THAT STUPID MAN!!! Where did you get this habit from?!?!?! EH!?!?!?!? Not from me not from me”

 And I’m standing there thinking “How could it not be from you? How did you manage to propel that slipper towards me if you weren't some expert huh?”

                                   

                                                                   --------------------------

When I was really young and foolish I was 'Mohammed Ali', ducking, diving and dodging while whoever it was chased me. The day my mum stopped beating me was when I was 12: She was exhausting herself beating me (for no reason) and suddenly I looked her right in the eye and started shouting: 

“CARRY ON U WITCH, CARRY ON! U KNOW U LOVE BEATING ME...U KNOW IT GIVES U PLEASURE...CARRY ON...I CAN C THAT GLINT IN YOUR EYES...YOU LOVE IT DON'T U?! DONT U?!?! 

So my mum is now looking worried and is backing away from me.

* The look on her face was something like this

So I’ve grabbed both wooden spoons off her and I’m crazily beating myself like a drum, all the time staring at her in the eyes without blinking and advancing towards her!

(you know when there’s so much PAIN that u don’t feel it anymore?...yeah...I was somewhere beyond that point.). After that day - she just made me go to church more often and made threats from the safety of 2 meters away.

 THAT’S HOW U STOP A BEATING! 

                                                    Lovies

                                                    Tari

     

Common Mistakes Women make when they have discovered an affair

Today I am going to share one of my notes on Facebook. [Posted on Saturday, 2 July 2011 at 12:18pm.] I remembered this note in particular because it relates to lots of ladies I know and  I thought it would be nice to let you in on a few tips. These are based on personal experience and I am not going to claim that this is what I do; but I like to think of myself as the strong type.

As much as we all love that feeling we get when we are in love; the tides may change and Mr. Perfect becomes the devil himself. When you have just discovered that your man is cheating on you;please DO NOT DO THE FOLLOWING:

Demand to know about the other woman.
The truth may hurt you. Can you handle the truth? Usually you can’t. I’m a desperate housewives fan and in Season 5; Carlos’ boss was cheating on his wife. When he decided to come clean and brag about his new found “love” to his wife, she didn’t take it well and stabbed him. Thank god that’s just entertainment but in real life; is it worth going to prison for?

Insult the other woman.
By doing so, you are giving her power she doesn't deserve. If you insult her to your man e.g. how is your slut doing? You are only making her seem more attractive and he will want to be with her more. Save the insults for girl’s night out. With your girls; you can insult that slut as much as you want without compromising your dignity. 

Force him to choose, thinking he will choose you.
There is no competition here- you will lose this one! She is new and they are in the honeymoon phase, you on the other hand are an old habit. Be the bigger man and leave with your dignity intact. He’s just not worth your time if he cannot see how jewels of your kind are precious and rare

Beat the other woman up. 

 
Now this is a big No No. As much as it may cool you down; by beating her up you are creating sympathy for her. Now she looks like your victim to him. With this one you are still giving her power. - (does anyone still do this?!)

 

Call him excessively to check on him like a prisoner.
He may start to avoid your calls even if he is not doing anything bad just to protect his freedom.
Ladies; we all know how it hurts when he has his phone on lock and requires a password. To imagine that 3days ago you knew everything but now you are being shut out? In shone we say

"Ukatsvaga makudo mugomo unomawana"

Don't hurt yourself unnecessarily. You will find what you are looking for. Don't break into his e-mails. Don't scroll his  cell phone and don't go through his messages.

Threaten to leave just to scare him.
You are giving him ideas and make the grass seem greener on the other side. The problem is after threatening and you don’t leave, it’s just pathetic. Be a grown up. Girl; if you want to leave, just leave. No threats

Tell his mother.
for crying out loud! This is his mother! She probably knows anyways and she will fully support him when you decide to tell. Unless you have the perfect relationship with her; this is a no brainer

Be in denial even though the signs are there.
Do something about your knowledge or you will make yourself sick. Some diseases are stress-related. Deal with your issues; don't bottle them up. If you have to confront him; go for it. He needs to know that you know. At least that’s a first step.

Cry. 

This is another big No! Please don’t cry. He won't feel sympathy for you. He will feel burdened by the tears and the urge to be at his “happy place” with “the other woman” will get the best of him. (Okay. I’ll be let my softness slide. If you feel the need to, just make sure he doesn't see you do it) 

Commit suicide.
Seriously, once you're gone, you're gone! You are giving them the power and space. She’ll still be around with him and you; will be in hell

                                                       Lovies

                                                        Tari

                                                                   

 

                                                   
 

I soo dont want a Shona Name - 2000

I have a shone name, English translation Hope.

Regardless of the meaning, I always hated my name growing up_ because it is Shona. Why couldn’t my parents give me at least one English name; even as a second name. They just had to huh? My parent’s names are Esther and Christopher. They have English names; pretty cool names that is. why did they have to give me a Shona name was my biggest question growing up.I envied the Michelle’s Melissa’s and Ashleys. They didn’t have to put up with people saying; “come again please” T-A-R-I-R-O.

There is one name I personally hate. I couldn’t stand that name and I still cant. I’ve never actually met anyone with that name but yet; I loathe it.[I will not reveal this name; for my great fear of being victimized] Only the Ava’s; Evelyn’s and Kate’s i.e all the smexy (Sexy + Mysterious) names appeared in Danielle Steel and mills & Boon novel’s. Bet you’ve never encountered a “Hope” in those novels

My perspective on my name changed in 2005 when I went to high school. Mainly because I was now older and more mature; such stuff didn’t bother me anymore. I understood why my mother gave me that name; Tariro. I was her hope; her light and she expected great of me. [ which is exactly what I am aiming for] This perspective also changed because of a certain prefect_Tariro C (No surnames ya’ll will look her up on FB). The girl had everything I wanted.

 

 I digress

Im thankful my mum named me Tariro; Shona names rock and the worst that could have happened is being named after a grandmother of dubious and immoral behavior. Then her “issues” would  be passed down to me. [you do know I’m superstitious and I believe in the shone tradition/culture  right?]

Gong Xi Fa Cai Lovies. 

Happy Chinese/ Lunar New year

Wishing you prosperity in the year of the dragon

Everything is on sale and I am drowning my sorrows of the January disease in shopping. Can you believe I bought a comforter and bed sheets that usually cost 500 for 99 last Saturday? I love the Holiday’s.

Now I know I'm really Zimbabwean, 102%...

Since I got back from my vacation ‘I’d been stuck in the house for a week plus so I decided to spend my Saturday at the Mall; catch up with the new stuff. Headed out to Midvalley Mall; to watch a movie, have dinner and do a little shopping. Emphasis on a “little” shopping. Being January and my account is suffering from the much dreaded January disease. I won’t divulge much on that. (if you are Zimbo; you know what I’m talking about)

                                         This is what January disease means in my fridge

So, Im walking around in the mall with “the Mr.” and I remembered my first time in such a beautiful place. (When I was still in Zim; Joina city was under construction. Eastgate, westgate were/are just a joke) It was 2009; when I arrived in this country. Did I mention this mall in particular is a Mega Mall? Everything looked so heavenly back then, the shops were inviting and all I could see were brand names. Innocently,  I walked in excited and got a rude awakening. USD150 on a pair of jeans, really? Yeah I know its Levi’s but common; they are plain blue jeans!

Window shopping is not a crime so I asked for my size; 28 back then. Indeed the assistant brought me a pair of jeans size 28. I wiggled, turned, twisted and sucked my gut in but the damn jeans would go up. After a few moments of awkward silence, the assistant decides to comment

*Chinese accent*

“miss, food too cheap lah. Now too big need big size”

I wanted to go into my Madea mode on her, give her a good tell off but instead I asked for a bigger size. And then she replies, “sorry miss, last size.” I had nothing to lose, Madea was on! I took off my jeans, the one’s I had walked into the shop wearing and showed her the size 28 tag. Fortunately these were brand name original jeans so I could say any crap I want; like how these were fake Levi’s cause if they were original; 28 would fit and it wouldn’t be the last size. 

I digress

Anyways; what made realize I am truly Zim with a 2% margin of error was my Nandos incident. Everywhere in the world, Nandos is a restaurant (and expensive) not a fast food outlet i.e Zim. I wanted to watch a movie that would end at 9.40pm. Heard of the statement, black people will be late for their own funeral.? I wanted to dissociate myself from that belief. Nandos closes at 10pm and there is a strict no seating after 9.30pm policy. I wanted a take away so I inquired before I went on to watch a movie. 

 Slap across the face when I came back for my take away, the guys says they are closed. I mean WTF? I had the decency to ask beforehand and he assured me they would serve me take away, and now this? I wanted to lose it there and then but I decided to use the oldest trick we girls use in Zim, beg.

“please Mkwasha, ndiri kuda chinhu one chete”

“maita basa” with a big smile

Here that statement doesn’t work. Not that Asian men cannot be enticed, but they really observe company rules. I’ve used that statement countless times in TM Arcadia and have gotten things done my way when the shop is about to close.

And on Saturday, I went home hungry and my Nandos craving unsatisfied. [Bummer]

Maybe I am a vampire.

Im up at 4.30am and not a wink of sleep insight. Insomnia has me on a strong choke-hold. Well let me be honest, there are a few reasons why I'm up :

•  I had Baileys and Ice ream with a dash of chocolate milk for supper; so I'm as high as they get
  
• I'm superstitious; so I waited out the whole Friday the 13th just to make sure I'm safe. Turned out to be a great day if you ask me
  
• I woke up at 3pm so I'm kinda like neighborhood watch; plus its FRIDAY! TGIF 

Now that I have your attention, I might as well tell you what's been going through my mind

      1. I love cartoons

Sing any cartoon title sequence and I can name it. 70% of my Tv time is spent watching toons; from the classics like Tom and jerry to the new and up beat Phineas and Ferb. Once I took a quiz, “How well do you know the Spongebob Squarepants show?” and I got a 100% score. The comment read, “WOW! You need to get a life.”
[bunch of haters if you ask me]

2. I’m a fan of Pork

The first thing I noticed when I got to this God forsaken Muslim nation was the absence of pork in supermarkets. Being born and bred in a family of meat particularly pork lovers, I almost lost it. Thankfully; there’s a shipload of Chinese folk here and they love non-halal as much as I do, so I was saved by a tiny little shop which sells everything from trotters to Bacon. Unfortunately; there’s no polony

3.I take after my brother

Well this covers almost everything. He taught me how to most “guy” stuff from video games to knocking back bottles. This is the same nigger who contributed the most in “My Eye accident”. I almost lost it (the eye) and today; I get to use the scar and bitch about the accident so he will do stuff for me. I digress *it's Evil… I know

4.I have no favorite color

Minus black, most the stuff in my wardrobe is either Red or Yellow. On screen, I like purple. My stationery and my room are a combination of all bright colors you can think of. There are times when I choose to wear a theme color for the week; pink, yellow and white usually top the list. Generally, I like bright colors
I’m dark so hey, shoot me! I love the attention especially when I can see the look on someone’s face screaming: OMG she is wearing yellow!Now who said the dark and lovely sisters should saty away from colorful stuff?

5.Food is my weakness

If it tastes nasty; I am not swallowing it! That’s my policy on food. It’s not that I ONLY favor fine dining; heck I’ve never had ravioli before or any fancy fish like scallops but nasty food just isn’t for me.