DIARY OF A ZIMBO STUDYING ABROAD: ENCOUNTERS IN THE MOTHERLAND ( part 1)

by Prudence Muzenda | Uludağ University, Turkey

The quick introduction of  bond notes, roads flooded with police officers, wanderers everywhere and almost everyone turned vendor. Well at least that’s what welcomed me back home. After the long  drive from the airport I suddenly noted the difference. The way I was living back in Turkey was probably what others were dreaming to live one day, yet I was just a student who worked part time, but it could have been better than being in the sun all day trying to make a dollar or two. Life…

After a flight of  at  least 9 hours , I couldn’t wait to stretch my legs in South Africa ,OR Tambo Airport, waiting for my last flight home. Only a few more hours and I would be there.  I was delighted, yet tired ,but that couldn’t overwrite the fact. I  swiftly went to baggage claim since my flights were not connected. In about 30 minutes I got my luggage and swiftly drifted again, now searching for my next flight check-in point . After about 20  minutes I found the desk, flooded however, because everyone checked in from there, as long as they were using SA Airways going wherever they were going. I didn’t want to complain a lot since that would change nothing, but really the system was just…

I frequently checked my wrist watch , I didn’t want to miss my flight which was scheduled 7:20am. Well there was still time since l had landed at 4am, but still, I just didn’t want to  take any  chances. Time passed so fast and  l actually realized it was an hour before boarding time. The excitement… Passport control was a nightmare. Everyone wanted their passports stamped, “where are they all going?” I gave it a slight thought. The last scanning point  before the boarding gate was a total put off. “Excuse me can l check your bag” , whispered a well dressed South African lady, as soon as my bag had passed the scanner. I gently smiled and gave her a go ahead. She didn’t seem friendly at all but l tried to stay calm. She opened my handbag and took all the cosmetics I had. “These won’t board the plane” she said ,in an unfriendly way. I literally froze. I had forgotten about all this . Back in Europe only 250ml of liquids weren’t allowed on board, but in South Africa, it was a 100ml limit. “All of them?” I asked, in a rather sad voice, “yes” she said, throwing them in a bin which looked like had only stayed there for that purpose. “May I at least have one perfume it’s new and it’s not that big either” , I said to her in a pleading voice possible. “Sorry sisi here we don’t work like that ” ,she vehemently gave a shout so that everyone could hear.. My heart sobbed.

…bond notes, roads flooded with police officers, wanderers everywhere and almost everyone turned vendor. Well at least that’s what welcomed me back home…

I packed the little of my hand luggage left , I could feel my heart breaking but I told myself there was more to life than the hand and body lotions that had cost a fortune, (well to me I should say). As if that was not enough, I slowly walked down to my boarding gate only to realize the flight had been delayed to 10:20am. Wait what?… 4 more hours in this place ,torture…”Welcome to Africa”, I said to myself.

When  I got home,everything seemed so new. Although  it had been a year, there had been quite a lot of changes, and there I was , being a foreigner in my own home. I gave  a quick smile to the new house maid who knew neither English nor Shona . She was Tonga and knew a little bit of Ndebele. Wow! “Where did you even find her?” I asked my dad, curious on how we would communicate.I was so bad in Ndebele. I could only pick up a few things but couldn’t utter a normal sentence.  And Tonga…

It was  12 mid day, so my dad was mandated to return to work. Fine by me ,I would actually get some rest. Straight flights were a pain… Just as l had hoped for l finely rested for  at least  5 hours and before I knew it , it was already evening.  Not so many hours later, I saw my mum ,dad and little brother again. All happy, I was thankful.  The Lord had  reunited us again, safe and sound , all in one piece.

I was touched on how people actually got  used to the poor standards and acted as if it were normal. What exactly needed to be done? Everyone seemed to be struggling.

Days passed and I got used to the new environment. My dad  asked if I could join him at work because there was an unfilled position. I was actually intrigued because staying home alone was a little boring, at least I would get myself occupied for a while. In no time I started work.

As l drove to work everyday , I noticed how life had really changed in my country. Pot-holed roads were just but  another thing people were struggling. As early as 8am , as cold as it was , people were already in the streets trying to make a living. I was touched on how people actually got  used to the poor standards and acted as if it were normal. What exactly needed to be done? Everyone seemed to be struggling. I actually wondered who the buyer was, because everyone was selling something. “Things are hard” was the new black . Everyone said the same thing. So many companies had closed, there were no jobs. No jobs meant no investments, less money circulation and poverty at its peak. How I wished it could all change. Where did we all go wrong?

I was always a little bit late , parking was just but a problem, so I always took long , or must I say I liked making the grand entrance, oh well…

REGARDS!!!!

DON’T MISS OUT THE PART TWO IN A FEW DAYS

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s