The Sunday News
EKASI STORIES with Clifford Kalibo
IT’S on a hot Monday morning, 2 January in 2023. We are gathered at Sizinda Bottle Store, in Bulawayo’s Sizinda Township, to “cure” yesterday’s hangover, “ukukhupa ibhabhalazi”, as we call it Ekasi. Noticeably is the fact that today the usual crowd of imbibers has been reduced by more than half. It is only a handful of guys who are drinking clear beer, and the beer is being drunk slowly so as to preserve it for longer. Some have been sipping from the same bottle for close to an hour, and by now the contents should be hot! At one corner I can see a group of about six guys who are sharing a one-litre Calabash of opaque beer, “amasese” also known as a “Baby Calabash.”
The writing is on the wall. People have been on a spending spree the whole month of December, and they are now very broke and are mired under the proverbial January disease. Today, as I take a few sips of beer from my quart bottle, I am debating whether I should buy another beer with the last two dollar note in my wallet, or whether I should buy a “Baby Calabash” for one dollar and with the remaining dollar buy a cabbage head or a packet of chicken gizzards, “inginyila”. I have no relish at home, and I have promised my wife to bring relish for supper. I then decide to buy a “Baby Calabash”, and to use the change to buy a cabbage head. I quickly finish my warm beer and head for the counter to buy a Calabash. The waitress, MaNdlovu, hands me the Calabash and my one-dollar change, which I tuck safely into my wallet. I vow to myself that I will not share this Calabash with anyone, but just before I am about to open the Calabash, I am dealt a bitter blow as I suddenly remember that there is no mealie-meal at home. I decide to return the Calabash so as to get my money back, but midway I tell my myself that two dollars cannot buy me relish and mealie-meal. Beer wins the debate. I turn back and decide to drink my beer and forget about everything. God will provide, I comfort myself. “Okunengi kuzazi shaper kodwa, wothi ngizinathele njenjoba i-two dollars ingakwani lutho.”
I stand near a group of guys who are all forlorn- looking, exhausted, and in low spirits. The festive season has evidently taken its toll and eroded the pockets. They are talking in hushed tones, and all that December vivacity and bravado of talking in loud and excited tones is no longer there. One tall, lanky guy, is saying, “Uyazi angila cent esikhwameni, ngijayive imali yonke.” The poor guy is saying he has spent all his money recklessly. Another guy, responds by saying that he has three children who are all going for Form One and he does not know where to get money for new school uniforms and fees. “Wena ungcono ndoda, mina ngile kidznet eziyi three okumele ziyoqalisa u-Form One e-Hlathi, manje vele angiqavi ukuthi ngiyaqalisela ngaphi.”
Just a few metres away, the six guys who have been sharing a Baby Calabash are engaged in a heated and fierce argument. Apparently, the beer is finished, and two guys are being berated for not contributing anything since morning, and drinking just for free. Kelvin, a short and dark-skinned guy, is shouting angrily on top of his voice. “Madoda lapha kunathwa ngehlabahlaba.
Alikhuphanga cent, lokhe lisimunyela mahara.” His sentiments are echoed by Leroy, a short guy with a few scraggy beards.
“Vele ongela mali katshaye phansi. Livara mahara, worse liyadonsa kakhulu.” The two guys walk away in shame, most probably to look for more free beer, because it is too early in the day for one to go home in a sober state, especially with nothing in one’s pocket.
Seated on the concrete pavement just outside the bottle store is Batisani, a friend of mine. He is too weak to stand and is sweating profusely. He is having a difficulty holding a quart of Castle Lager, as his hands are shaking uncontrollably. One can see that Batisani is suffering from a terrible hangover, as he has been drinking daily since November, and having a few hours of sleep. “Uyazi ngilenyongo, plus angila appetite”, he says in a shaky and quivering voice. I turn to him and advise him to go home and sleep, but Batisani will have none of that. “Akuvumi ukuthi ngiyolala, maybe nginganatha mbijana ngiza picker.”
After drinking my two Calabashes of opaque beer, “amasese”, I decide to go home. I have not bought “isitshebo” and “impuphu” (relish and mealie-meal), and my heart is thumping with cold fear as to how I will face my hungry family and the wrath of my angry wife. On the way I meet up with a brother called Imboyera, who is looking downcast and walking slowly like a lazy greyhound. He accosts me, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that the guy is sober and very hungry. “Mzukulu, do you know of anyone who can loan me at least $20? I am very broke; I need to buy food”. “Akula muntu wesimbazo omaziyo ongangiboleka i $20, ngiyothenga ukudla?” I am so engrossed in my own thoughts as to where my next meal will come from, so I don’t give Imboyera an answer. I just shoot past him, he gives me an angry and devilish look, as he continues walking towards the bottle store.
December is the month when people make resolutions for the new year. While some resolutions are sound and reasonable, I have over the years seen that the majority of the resolutions are just unsound and always short lived. The most common resolution for beer drinkers is to quit alcohol and smoking the following year.
“I will never touch alcohol ever again in my life,” many guys say. Others will resolute to drink on weekends only, while others will resolute to reduce their alcohol intake. “Ngo 2023 angiphindi nginathe futhi utshwala lokubhema.” Such resolutions are short lived and almost never materialise, because one makes such a resolution as a result of the January disease. By the end of January, as the January disease is coming to an end, the New Year resolutions die a natural death and evaporate into thin air.
I wish all our readers a Happy New Year graced with happiness, health and prosperity. Enjoy reading this article as you grapple with the January disease.
Feedback:Clifford Kalibo/ 0783856228 / 0719856228/WhatsApp: 0779146957/Email: [email protected]
