Rotten Row Read online

  ‘You mean she was shot with a gun?’ said Pepukai.

  ‘She can hardly have been shot with a spoon now, can she?’ retorted Ma’Shero.

  ‘All the dealers have guns now, all of the ones in Northfields anyway, they need the guns for their mega deals and, well, you know,’ said Genia.

  From the doorway came a loud voice, ‘Ndakapinda busy mai mwana, but listen, I have no more airtime. No more airtime. I said no more … ende futi Econet.’ The voice belonged to a woman in her fifties who wore the blue-cloaked uniform of the Catholic Church, with a white headscarf covering her head. In one hand, she had her phone, and in the other, a roasted maize cob. Her overloaded handbag seemed to drag down her left shoulder.

  ‘Hesi vasikana,’ she greeted as she entered.

  ‘Hesi MbuyaMaTwins,’ said Matilda.

  ‘Hesi Mati,’ MbuyaMaTwins said. ‘Ko, kuita chidhafinya kudaro, kudhafuka kunge uchaputika? Hee? Kuita dhafukorera kudai! Why are you so fat now, Matilda, honestly? Are you pregnant or something?’

  As she spoke, she poked at Matilda’s stomach with the pointy end of her maize cob.

  ‘Mukawana nguva mundikwanire, ndinonhumburwa nani Steve zvaari kuSouth?’ said Matilda. ‘How could I get pregnant when my husband has been away this long?’

  ‘There are those who are able, it is not just husbands and Steves who can do it. Varipo vanotumbura nokunhumbura!’ MbuyaMaTwins gave a coarse, leering laugh that shook her chest and the rosary beads around her neck.

  ‘Besides, I have been on Depo how long now, since my last born, you know, the one who was born legs first,’ said Matilda. ‘You know how Depo makes you gain weight.’

  ‘Depo?’ said MbuyaMaTwins.

  ‘Yes, Depo Provera. You know, the contraceptive, the one you inject.’

  ‘So it is injections that are making you so fat? Better to be pregnant in that case, at least you get something out of the fatness. Ndigezese musoro Mati, I want just a shampoo and set today.’

  ‘Shylet will do that for you. Handiti you know she is now my junior?’ said Matilda. ‘Shylet!’

  The sweeping girl came over.

  ‘Do MbuyaMaTwins. But mind, I’ll be watching you.’

  Shylet walked with MbuyaMaTwins to the sinks.

  ‘Did you hear about Kindness?’ Ma’Shero said, ‘She is now late.’

  MbuyaMaTwins, who was about to sit down and lower her head into a sink behind her back said, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She was killed by her boyfriend.’

  ‘What are you talking? What are you telling me?’ MbuyaMaTwins forgot that she had been about to sit and remained crouched above the seat in a half squat, her face twisted into a rictus that was almost a caricature of disbelief, the maize cob in her hand stopped just before her mouth.

  ‘How is it that this came to be?’

  ‘She was shot by her boyfriend.’

  ‘What are you telling me? Do you mean the boyfriend who drove a silver Pajero, the junior doctor who worked at Pari?’ MbuyaMaTwins said.

  ‘What do you know about her boyfriends, MbuyaMaTwins?’

  MbuyaMaTwins stretched to stand as she said, ‘Who did she not tell about her boyfriends? Everyone in Highfield, from Egypt to Jerusalem, knows about her boyfriends. She told me about him when he picked her up after she did my hair just the other week. Hanzi ndirikudanana nadoctor vangu varikutoda kutondiroora. Hede! His name is Dickson and he is going to marry me. I said to myself, haiwa mahumbwe ega ega, what kind of a doctor, even a junior one, would want to marry a saloon girl?’

  ‘Ha, MbuyaMaTwins, are we saloon girls not women also?’

  ‘No, Genia, you know what I mean, there are saloon girls and then there are saloon girls. You and Kindness are very different types, she was her own type, that one.’

  ‘Anyway, myself I think this boyfriend is the one who drove a red Mercedes and not a silver Pajero,’ said Matilda.

  MbuyaMaTwins heaved herself into the chair below with an exclamation and laid her head on the sink. Shylet opened the taps and put a finger under the water to test its temperature as she asked, ‘Are you talking about the man who bought lunch for us the other day? The one she went shopping with to Joburg? Because that one did not drive a silver Pajero. And he was not called Dickson.’

  ‘No, that was someone else. He did not drive a red Mercedes either,’ said Ma’Shero. To Matilda, she said, ‘Iwe udza mujunior wako kuti azive zvekugezesa musoro kwete kungopindira nyaya dzaasingazivi. Tell your junior to stop interfering in news that does not concern her.’

  ‘You mean she had three going at the same time?’ said MbuyaMaTwins. As Shylet ran water over her hair, she continued to chew at her maize cob, almost absent-mindedly, her face still frowning her disbelief.

  ‘Kuda zvinhu, Kindness,’ said Matilda.

  ‘Makwatuza!’ said Ma’Shero.

  ‘Makwatikwati,’ said Zodwa.

  With MbuyaMaTwins’s quizzical prompting, the four women speculated over which of the three boyfriends could have been her killer. It could not be Dickson the junior doctor, said Ma’Shero, because he did not live in Northfields.

  ‘But imagine if he followed her there, Ma’Shero,’ said Zodwa. ‘This is you, Dickson. Ndiwe uyu. You follow her there and you find her with another man, what would you do if you were him?’

  Ma’Shero said Kindness had been seen two nights ago in the red Mercedes. But the night before, she had been in the silver Pajero. ‘Maybe,’ said MbuyaMaTwins, struck by a charitable thought, ‘maybe it is the same man. You know these dealers, they all have different cars. Maybe it was the same man, just in different cars.’

  ‘Then,’ said Ma’Shero, ‘he must have changed his body type too, because I saw the men and they looked different from behind. Ndisingazivi kumberi uko, maybe they are alike in the front area.’

  ‘Makwatuza!’ said Genia.

  ‘Makwatikwati!’ said Ma’Shero.

  At that moment, a young man came in through the open door. The wide smile on his face was almost as big as the large box in his arms. ‘Hesi vanamothers,’ he said. ‘Today I have crisps, doughnuts, maputi, sausages, fish, belts, Afro combs, phone chargers and cellphone covers. I also have something very special for you, in addition to my usual Tiens Chinese herbs, I have a new one, a proper hevhi musambo that can cure period pain, that is good for teething babies and that can also remove bad luck.’

  ‘Let’s see the fish,’ said Ma’Shero. ‘Is it fresh, Biggie?’

  ‘It is very fresh. Fresh smoked fish just for you,’ said Biggie. ‘Just five dollars for four fish.’

  ‘Biggie, you are back with that smelly fish of yours, when will you learn we don’t want it. It’s that Lake Chivero fish that swims in people’s faeces and urine, isn’t it?’ This was Zodwa.

  ‘From Kariba straight, mothers,’ said Biggie. ‘This is fresh fish, fresh from Lake Kariba. Do I look like I would sell you fish from Chivero?’

  ‘But what is to say that it really is from Kariba?’ Zodwa pushed him. ‘Did you go yourself to catch it yourself with your own two hands nhaiwe Biggie?’

  ‘Mothers, when have I ever sold you something that was not really real? You know I get the fish direct from Sekuru Fish himself, he is the one who supplies all the civil servants at Mkwati and Kaguvi buldings.’

  ‘Sekuru Fish or no Sekuru Fish, Biggie, where do I even start? You once sold us relaxing cream that made the hair even harder after you relaxed it.’

  ‘You could say it was an unrelaxing cream,’ boomed MbuyaMaTwins from under the hair dryer.

  ‘And there was that soap that he said had glycerine in it but it produced no suds, yaisapupira kana one day,’ said Zodwa.

  ‘And what about …’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Biggie. ‘Why can’t you just forget some of these things? Even Jesus made mistakes. But maybe the clients are interested?’

  He thrust the box before Pepukai who shook her head.

  ‘Don’t shake your head,’ said Matilda, ‘I am planting the
braids now.’

  ‘Ko, what about you, MbuyaMaTwins?’ said Biggie.

  ‘Undikwanire semari yebhazi wanzwa?’ she said. ‘Last time, you sold me those batteries that didn’t run. You still have not given me back my money.’

  ‘What about you, Shylet? A smoking girl like you needs something to make you even more smoking. How about some smoked fish for a chimoko?’

  Shylet giggled and said ‘Ah, you also, Biggie.’

  At Shylet’s giggle, the four women around Pepukai eyed and nudged each other.

  ‘I will take the fish,’ said Ma’Shero. ‘I am thinking maybe Ba’Shero might like it.’

  ‘If Ba’Shero can eat that fish,’ said Zodwa, ‘then he is a man among men.’

  ‘Biggie,’ said Ma’Shero, ‘I will give you a dollar a week until it is paid off.’

  ‘Kahwani mothers,’ he said. ‘No problem at all. That is how we do business. Any excuse to come back.’ He grinned at Shylet as he spoke. She smiled behind her hand. He was about to say more when his phone rang. He answered it on speaker. Into the salon, a tinny voice shouted, ‘I have no airtime. Ndiri paMebaz naGi …’ before the phone cut.

  As he pocketed his phone, Biggie asked, ‘Ko, imi. NedzaKindness. Someone in the butchery says Kindness was axed by some man?’

  ‘She was shot, not axed,’ said Zodwa.

  ‘There was no axe? Are you sure? I heard it was an axe.’

  ‘But even if there were, she is still late, Biggie.’

  ‘So what is going to happen?’

  ‘We are waiting to hear where the mourners are gathered, as soon as we are done with this one, we are off.’

  ‘But mmm, that Kindness, well, I shall not say, but mmm, she was special that one. Mai Muponesi chaivo.’

  ‘Iwe,’ Zodwa rebuked him, ‘you should concentrate on selling your smelly fish, what do you know about Kindness?’

  ‘Sorry mothers, palater.’

  ‘Ma’Shero,’ Zodwa continued as Biggie left, ‘how can you buy that smelly fish? You can’t keep it here otherwise we will all end up smelling of fish. You had better ask uyu mujunior to take it to the butcher next door.’

  ‘Shylet,’ Ma’Shero called.

  The junior had finished washing MbuyaMaTwins’ hair, setting it in rollers and had settled the client under the hair dryer. She abandoned her chair near the sink where she had been plaiting her own hair and came over.

  ‘Take this to the butcher. I will pick it up when I go home.’

  They watched the girl shuffle out.

  ‘I bet you she won’t come back in a hurry,’ said Genia.

  ‘That one? Pane basa. You saw how she was with that Biggie. She has been making eyes at that butcher boy too, next door.’

  Making her voice louder to be heard over the sound of the dryer, MbuyaMaTwins boomed, ‘You mean that pimply boy who looks like he has not had a shower since nineteen gochanhembe?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Matilda. ‘She would even go with a hwindi this one, she is not fussy. Anonyengwa kana nefreezit uyu, she will drop her pants at the sight of a Coke. Muchamunzwa. These are some of the Kindnesses in the making.’

  ‘Makwatuza!’ said Ma’Shero.

  ‘Makwatikwati,’ laughed Zodwa.

  ‘Kuda zvinhu,’ said Genia.

  Shylet returned as they laughed and Matilda immediately turned the conversation. ‘Imika imi,’ she said. ‘Imagine people like Biggie, of all people, are now commenting on Kindness, can you imagine?’

  ‘Iwe, who did not know about Kindness?’ said Genia.

  ‘Even in Engineering, even in Five Pounds, they know about Kindness,’ said MbuyaMaTwins. ‘I bet you even people as far as Gazaland know.’

  They looked up as a sleek, silver car pulled up to park outside. The woman who emerged from the driver’s seat wore a dark grey suit, elegant heels and sunglasses. Her cropped hair framed her face. As she entered, she pushed up her glasses to her forehead.

  They looked at her in silence.

  In a low, pleasant voice, she said, ‘Afternoon, ladies, I am looking for Judith.’

  ‘Judith went to Dubai two weeks back,’ said Zodwa.

  ‘Oh yes, she did say she may be going,’ the woman said. ‘When is she back, do you know, because I have been trying to reach her?’

  ‘She comes back Thursday.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, I will call her then.’

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’ Ma’Shero asked.

  ‘No, that’s fine,’ she said with a smile. ‘I have to take one of my children to play in a tennis tournament this afternoon. I could have stayed if it was not for that, so I will just wait for Judith.’

  ‘Thank you, ladies,’ she added.

  Their eyes followed her to the door and to her car. Even before she had driven off, MbuyaMaTwins was asking, ‘And who is this Tennis Tournament one?’

  She had poked her head from under the dryer, and was trying to scratch her scalp with the rollers on her head. Shylet jumped to attend to her and reset the rollers.

  ‘That is one of Judith’s clients, you know Judith goes out more and more these days, she is making herself exclusive to a few clients,’ said Ma’Shero. ‘She goes to their homes in the surbubs, uko kumaDale-Dales, they don’t have to come here.’

  ‘Hoo,’ said MbuyaMaTwins, ‘Ndoosaka kufinyama finyama, is that why she was looking at us like we were something under her shoe? Because she is a special Tennis One from the Dale-Dales who gets her hair done at home?’

  ‘I thought she was nice,’ said Shylet as she shifted the rollers.

  ‘Nice chiikowo iwe, you should talk what you know about,’ said Ma’Shero.

  ‘Nhai zvako,’ said MbuyaMaTwins. ‘Ndivo vakadzi vanoshereketa ivava. Did you see that car? How did she buy it? With money from where? Do you think such money is clean? There must be something behind it. Harare yabata-bata vasikana.’

  ‘Vanobata-bata!’ said Ma’Shero. ‘You read that story in Metropolitan about that small house in Borrowdale Brooke. She slept with that mad man to get a love charm to trap her lover. This is exactly the sort of thing women like that do, you think it is money from just working?’

  ‘Ah,’ said MbuyaMaTwins, ‘are you saying that woman is a small house?’

  ‘She isn’t at all,’ said Shylet. ‘Judith said she has a very good job, she runs a big bank in town.’

  ‘Then she will have a young Ben Ten stashed away somewhere, some young man whose services she has bought with dirty money,’ said Ma’Shero.

  ‘Exactly what I mean,’ said MbuyaMaTwins. ‘Ndivavo vakadzi vemumabank. Ndivo chaivo vanobata-bata. You would not believe the things that go on in banks. Bvunza isu. My own husband once wanted to take a job in a bank. I said to him, and this is what I said, no thank you, I said to him. Mari yacho ngaigare. I know those bank women. I would rather we suffered, yes, I would rather eat plain vegetables, even cooked with no cooking oil than have you work with women like that. Even up to now, he is not working.’

  ‘She probably got into the bank through being a small house,’ said Ma’Shero.

  ‘She is a widow,’ said Shylet. ‘Her husband died in a car accident three years back.’

  There was a silence until Ma’Shero said, ‘Manje some of these widows, you would never believe they are widows. There was this funeral I went to last week you won’t believe. It was at the church of BaShero’s cousin brother and can you believe the widow wasn’t even covered in a wrapper cloth or headscarf or anything, she wore a smart dress, kashiftso, and it was not even black-black but blue-black. She had high heels on can you imagine, high heels at a grave site, just like that woman, and sunglasses too like that one.’

  ‘Achitoti akatopfeka sorry?’ said MbuyaMaTwins. She was back in the dryer, her face aghast with shock at what she was hearing. ‘What sort of mourning outfit do you call that?’

  ‘Imi, it was like she was going to a wedding, she even had make-up on, and a black hat.’

  ‘There will be something there,’ said MbuyaMaTwins. �
�Mark my words, pane chiripo. Before the year is out, you will have heard something. Kana kunzwa kuti vanobatabata. Kushereketa chaiko!’

  ‘Ah,’ said Matilda, ‘it would not surprise me at all.’

  A sharp-eyed woman in a TM supermarket cashier’s uniform entered, bringing with her the strong smell of the orange she was peeling and eating. Her TM nametag indicated that her name was Plaxedes. She had the mismatched hands and face and the patch-patch giraffe skin of different shades of brown that was typical of a woman anozora, one addicted to skin-lightening creams. As she greeted the others, she approached Pepukai to admire the now almost completed braids. Pepukai could smell the orange on her hands as Plaxedes gathered up the plaits to examine them closer.

  ‘This is nice, girls, inga this is nice,’ Plaxedes said. ‘Maybe I should have this next time, what do you think?’

  Without stopping for breath, she said to Pepukai, ‘Ende vhudzi renyu rakareba. Is your hair natural?’

  She pulled at the little of Pepukai’s hair that still remained to be braided. Again, Pepukai was hit by the smell of oranges.

  Pepukai said, ‘Yes, it is, it is natural.’

  ‘Hoo. Ende futi makazochena. Kabhutsu kenyu karibhoo manje. Perfume yenyu inonzi chii? What perfume are you wearing?’

  ‘It’s called Jardin Sur Nil,’ said Pepukai. She was now being suffocated by the smell.

  ‘Jadan chii?’

  ‘Jardin Sur Nil,’ said Pepukai. The smell of oranges was threatening to overpower her.

  ‘Chirudzii? What language is that?’ asked Plaxedes.

  ‘Erm, French, I think.’

  ‘Hoo, saka munotochitaura chiFrench chacho?’

  ‘Not really, no,’ Pepukai said. ‘I don’t speak French.’

  ‘Hoo nhai, saka inodhuraka? It smells expensive. It must be expensive. Is it expensive? How much is it? Where do you live?’

  ‘NdeveLondon ava,’ said Genia, with proprietary ownership.

  ‘London! Zvenyu! Kuchiri kupindika kuLondon? But why is your skin so dark? You don’t look at all like you live in London. When do you go back? Munoita nezveyi ikoko?’