People rely on menial: as hard times hit the country

By Tafadzwa Chigandiwa
Recently in Beitbridge-Zimbabwe’s economic turmoil has now thrust out to another miserable and touching level in some parts of the country.
Young boys, girls, mothers, and fathers at the border town are now being forced to wake up as early as 5 am in the morning and come back home around 8 pm daily as they will be trying to fend for themselves.
A flock of people are always seen manning the entrance and exit side of the South African border post where they will be sincerely asking, begging to ferry luggage for each and everyone who seems to have huge luggage coming from either side of the two countries.
Taking a grasp understanding of our own nation and its economic havocs and political situation this routine will continue up until our economy is stable.
On our way from Messina with my brother Mlondolozi Ndlovu with whom l share the same profession of journalism save for the fact that he is also a human rights activist, we met a man who quickly offered us his assistance to fetch our bags to the Zimbabwean border post.
With a very very low voice, the guy said, “maBlaz ndiripo musaremerwa ndokutakurirayi kusvika kuBoarder.”
We looked at each other and just told him with a harsh voice “Tokwanisa Shamwari” not that we were not willing to help him but we had a second thought that he might be a conman as some of these people tend to steal some of their client’s staff.
He did not easily give up as he replied with a humbled voice again but this time it infiltrates into my mind and realized some of the hurdles Zimbabweans we are encountering in our own motherland, he quickly said, “Manje blaz mukaramba kutakurirwa bag ýenyu mati uraya nenzara ndopabasa pano.”
Being as stubborn as a mule we still ignored him, although praying inside me “Lord have mercy on me”.
It did not take us 50 meters away from that guy we were once again bumped into a number of women who attempted to offer the same service, unfortunately, their efforts were in vain.
But they kept on persisting and chanting, “Bamunini tipeyi bag titakure.” Unfortunately, it was not their day we were intolerant.
On our last exit from the South African boarder we met a young man, his name was Takaedza Chimano (21) and this time around he was the lucky one as we were tired and decided to give him our bags, not wasting too much time and showing a smile on his face he placed them on his trolley in a jovial mood and quickly charged us 10 rand.
Looking at the distance the boy was to travel (nearly 2 kilometers) with lots of bags on his trolley i began to realize that our life as Zimbabweans is now in shambles.