Happy Christmas

The Bvumba has been without electricity for weeks, mostly upper Bvumba I believe. After the contents of two deep freezes rotted I phoned the Zimbabwe Electricity supply authority understandably irate. It appeared that the transformers had burned out and they were awaiting spares. After three weeks of cold baths, uninspiring cold dinners and bumbling along with hot wax burning our fingers I was filled with a quiet desperation. This feeling was fueled by imagining the household of relatives who would soon be arriving for an African Christmas dealing with the boot camp existence, would they be up for cold showers I wondered hysterically. As I was reaching for the valium in my unironed clothes, a new situation arose which immediately surpassed the electricity crisis. It came in the form of a hand written letter from a young war vet who now declared he was the new owner of Partridge Hill and he was evicting us and asked if we would remove all our belongings by Wednesday. Fortunately for us he left a phone number and lovely Lawyer George was able to contact him and persuade him to let us remain where we were until after New Year.

It appeared things were going from bad to worse. Then tearing off to Harare Airport to pick up our first arrival there was a small explosion which took place somewhere in the Landrover bonnet. A thick cloud of white smoke soon surrounded us. We turned around and limped back to Shuma store near Odzi emerging from the vehicle coughing and spluttering. There was no cell phone signal that day so Sean who was a passenger in our vehicle befriended a man outside the butchery who kindly offered to drive us to his plot. He assured us he had a phone that worked and gave Sean a lift in his meat van. Sean was soon back severely traumatized, not only by the smell of rotten meat which permeated the vehicle, but it appeared our good Samaritan was a war vet. The phone was in a house which still had pictures of the previous white family on the wall. The war vet had added his own photos which were neatly placed next to the smiling white family. "Here" I said to Sean giving him a reassuring pat" Have a valium"

Then Mozambleak became a nightmare situation as renegade farmers stopped delivering their paprika and started to blackmail us. Not a healthy climate for any future investors! Is this the wild west I asked Pat nervously as we started to fight for our survival. Mozambleak needs long term development loans for its farmers and some sort of Agricultural policy in place. Unless this happens soon, Chimoio will fall into the dark abyss!!! There is no protection for investors! So Bob Geldof and Bono Are you listening!!! Chimoio calling?

Granny Beryl was having a lovely time holidaying in Zim until she went to check on her investment at Beverley Building Society. She thought she had left a small fortune behind when she departed for Cornwall. You can imagine her dismay when on arrival at the counter, they said they were really pleased to see her. Due to an increase in bank charges during the three and a half years she had been away she actually owed them money. Her fixed deposit was no better. Granny B's large fortune had dwindled to nothing. That's inflation for you Baby.

Lets hope it gets better soon.

Mandy Retzlaff
Bvumba
Zimbabwe