WHEN FATHER GOT PAID I remember it very well as if it happened yesterday. Relieving it is like visiting an enchanted land of mythical proportions. Life then was so beautiful, for these were the days when milk used to be delivered to your door step and the ice cream used to pass through three times a day. There was the blue uniformed ice cream man or the white uniformed one, selling those milky and creamy delicacies like snowman or meadow maid. This was around 1982 in Zimbabwe and father had just been promoted at work. As was his habit father would come and surrender a big chunk of his pay to mum at the end of each working month. As a young boy I used to look forward to mums end of month routine, for mum used to take me with her for grocery shopping at the town center. I remember I used to excuse myself for a while while mum was doing her shopping and I would always visit this car dealer place called Dulys. I was 10 years old then and the car dealers would always be surprised to see this little boy month after month looking at these beautiful beasts whose prices never changed anyway. There was nothing that could break this routine of mine for in this car dealer place I would become so free. So free to dream of my future, the good life that was awaiting me in that future. I would walk around in my dreamy stupor until the voice of mother jogged me to reality. It seems mother had come to know about my secret and where to find me after loading her trolly full of those goodies like stork margarine, tiger fish, french polony, crystal sweets and so forth. Then the day used to climax with that appointed visit to LM cafe where mother would routinely buy fish and chips. I never got fed up with this fish and chips monthly routine as it always tasted divine especially with my favorite drink of fanta. As I sit here and replay these memories in my mind, this world seems so distant now. I have become a man, husband and father and I have bought and driven beasts. As I often think we all make our future from the dreams and ideas we fashion in our minds; I cant help to think:does life in my home country still give a measure of comfort to a 10year old and allow them to freely dream?
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 06:03:26 +0000
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