Yeah, I think I’ve arrived at that stage in every Zimbabwean’s life where I look around, dig deep inside and ask myself that age-old question: should I stay or should I go?
I’m tired, peeps, dead tired. Of the runaround, the rat race, the drama (oh, the drama) and the all-round EXCITEMENT associated with being a resident of Hahahaharare, FCOSA*. I’m not really gonna dwell on the reasons here (do I have to?), but I feel more like examining the options, i.e. – where to now?
I wanna go the islands, man. Sun, sea, sweating away doing menial jobs in some hurricane-prone corner of the world…very appealing. In fact, I can actually see myself traipsing down some forlorn beach, camera in one hand, fruity alcoholic bev in the other, swilling the days away, shaggin out the nights.
Dreams? Fuck, yeah. Okay, probably Unit K. Or Unit S. Even South Africa (at last resort, really), just ANYWHERE but here. Like I said, I’m tired.
Watch this space. Actually, you know in a year I’ll be here, writing the same shit, whining away as any good Zimbo does best. A luta continua.
*FCOSA – Fun Capital of Southern Africa, dumb-ass.