The Quest Of a Man

Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes! Red red tomatoes come and buy your tomatoes!I have come with your tomatoes." There goes my everyday morning routine which I do everyday before the people in my community begin their day after I come from getting my morning orders from the market in our big busy city of Harare. Selling tomatoes like this has payed my rent,  house bills and my children's fees. It is really hard to be a man but its very much paying to be a sales man who has something to look forward to make his pocket not an empty one. "Let me get down the street with these few packs, probably they will sell." They say a sales person is a crazy person he makes conversations with himself so that he keeps motivated.

"My child I want to see come through here!"shouts a curious voice drawing my attention from my left side.. This is my luckiest day nothing bits exchange moment at all because I am left happy and so are customers, I just smile as I attend to this lady. Mai Moyo is the quiet and most feared lady in the hood. Rumours has it that she  once served in the army before she retired to stay on her early retirement pension. 

"Hevo mwanangu (how are you my child), inga you have madomasi akanaka anenge ari fresh. (You have good tomatoes they seem also to be fresh) she says these words peeping into my carriage. Unoziva hako mari yangu yandiitira shoma nhasi asi ndiri kuda kupinda mutown kunoti ndinotambira mwana wangu dangwe arikubva kuSouth Africa( You know what my money is little today ,but I  want to get into town to usher my first born who is coming today from South Africa.)"

That moment where you have two choices to make a decisive yes or no. I automatically opened my mouth and, "said haaaa don't worry mom there is always tomorrow you can take as many as you want you will pay tomorrow." As soon as I closed my mouth I regreted my words. She took four pockets, I saw loss my fellows. I waved a good bye and I was not able to talk anymore. Thoughts were digging my brains , and I was scratching my head for the unreasonable act my mouth took. My mom always warned me for being too kind . Regrets were becoming a burden to me, just like they do to most who still breathes.

I continued home ,and I just sat as usual planning on my tomorrow's selling route ,but there was nothing to think about I had to go back to get my money first to draw my plan properly. I took a few deep breaths as I thought about my behaviour in the morning. "Did I really care about my business or not?" This was a question that was keeping on coming out of my heart. I was so angry with myself, but I could not tell anyone. There was no one I could tell this even my wife because to me the possible answer was going to be that I had been reckless.

 This was betrayal to my innocent children as it meant no lunch money tomorrow. They needed something to eat , and the only option I had was  to back a pan cake which we call (chimodho)in my dialect. This was going to be a battle they would not agree I knew it, last time Shumba's children laughed at them to a point that they desired to get a transfer. A real man has to cover up pain inside and put on a smile while the mind is planning something simple to cover up for the mess.

This was my final decision. "Tomorrow no-one is going to school." I said these words with a happy face. This called for much attention in the house, I felt even the walls of the house being surprised with my words. After the beatings I gave to Taka my grade three first born when he said a few weeks ago that he no longer wanted to go to school , but rather be a gardener.

 I had to explain myself to the reason behind my decision. "Dad tomorrow has no money, but he will have it tomorrow my children." They frowned and went to play , but a few minutes later they came back smiling and told me  not worry since teachers were striking. It was like my little daughter was seeing my invisible tears as she came , sat on my lap and started to rub my cheeks as one  removing tears off my face. I smiled and noticed a bit of an irresponsible father in me , I could have made it easier for myself by knowing the state of my children's school life.

We had that day's evening meal, pap and chicken deeped in a bowl of red tomato soup. We ate and retired in the haven of thoughts that's my room. It was hot there since it was in the middle of November ,and  the vibration of mosquitoes aided to the stress on my head as I was trying to put things together like a man should do. I sat there in my small room then I started to count my money. This was supposed to be the first thing to do before I spent off my day , and surprisingly my money was unbelievably enough to make a good order tomorrow. 

I slapped mysel, I jumped screaming which woke up my wife and I pretended to be making a prayer so that she won't ask a lot of questions. I was so happy and excited, I quickly forgot about my preassumed loss. I then started to focus on my business. I got to the small table in my room to have a look into my pastor's book I had been given as a parting gift when he left us for South African branch, though he was selling them he offered it to me free of charge. Although it was given for free I struggled with laziness to open it. The title of the book was an interesting to me which gave me a knack to finally open it,  "The gold sack of life." was the title of the book.,  it was  a sermon he had preached to us the past year before he  left us for South Africa. I had heard that he was really having a great life there. This man is my icon considering  how God raised him. A few would really agree in the blessing of the Lord, but most would agree and say that he was using what they call juju or black magic.