This is something I wrote in 2005…cheating a bit, but I am The Blogger, so I can do what I like!
You will be pleased to know that yesterday will go down in my memory as one of the worst days I have ever experienced.
After such an introduction you will be expecting a grisly tale, but it is the final straw that breaks the camel’s back, and yesterday – The Straw arrived.
Off I went to work, as one generally does, on a Wednesday. Only to find that there was a power cut at the office (this does happen with some frequency here, funnily enough). This did not disturb me unduly. We have a generator.
Alas.
It transpired that there were 4 obstacles to the generator’s efficient take-over:
1. It is locked inside a metal cage (things tend to get stolen around here with some frequency too), and the keys are kept by 2 people. One of whom was at a funeral, the other of whom was here, but denies all knowledge of ever having had any keys at all, and was therefore not terribly helpful. This was a temporary problem, as we finally gave up the key hunt, and cut the lock. BUT
2. It runs on diesel. To say that diesel is in short supply would be an understatement. In any case – there wasn’t a single drop left in the generator, and even all our most persuasive bartering, threatening, cajoling and calling-in of favours only yielded a paltry 5 litres…Which would have been ok, except that
3. It also requires 2 Very Big batteries, which should ideally be used once a fortnight or so to keep them charged. It turns out that they have not been used for some time (see point 2) and they are As Dead As A Doornail. Which ordinarily would be quite easily solved by jump-starting them with a car battery. However
4. The only vehicle with a big enough battery is the big delivery truck. Which is currently immobile, forlornly abandoned somewhere obscure out on the Chiremba Road. See Point 2 above.
SO – there we were. No power, no back up plan, planes waiting (real ones), no lights in the coldroom, no computers on which to do shipment lists, no email, no switchboard. Etc.
So – we phoned Zesa.
Who said – No problem. “Our guys are there working on it”.
So we waited.
And we waited.
And then we phoned Zesa again.
Who said “Oh – the airport… Some one has stolen the main cables to your substation. So – it’s a f&*(-up. But don’t worry – our guys are working on it.”
So we waited.
And we waited.
And then we phoned Zesa again.
Who said “Ah…yes. The airport. blah blah stolen cables blah blah 4 days”
And we said “Sorry…whatii?!”
And they said “4 days”
And we said “4 days what-ii?”
And they said “4 days to fix it. The cables have to be imported. Our guys are working on it.”
And that was that.
So – we resorted to Manual Labour, and wrote out screeds of lists for various markets, which we sent over to the coldrooms. They (armed with one torch from the security guard, powered by Eveready, which had not been ever ready for several months and was emitting a beam somewhat akin to that emitted by a candle in the rain) stumbled around in the dark, grabbing boxes and placing them haphazardly onto pallets…and we got them to the plane, just in time. Which was really only because the plane was delayed, due to the disturbing lack of power at the Harare International Airport. Which Zesa have already told you about.
ANYWAY – that was not The Straw.
The Straw, as it turns out, was a Goat.
So – there I was, sitting in the semi-gloom of an office without lights (even in the daytime, even with all the curtains open, even in a not-very-dark place, offices just seem gloomy without lights, and as quiet as a morgue without computers vaguely droning away, and printers printing, and photocopiers copying and phones ringing and people swearing…oh, ok. The swearing bit was happening quite a lot, but it didn’t really have the impact, somehow, echoing as it did around our forlorn powerless space…), contemplating how sad it was that I had forgotten my book, when an alarming scream sounded from the car park outside….
Scream. Scream. Whimper.
We looked at each other nervously.
Whatii??
Scream.
And there it was – The Goat.
Surrounded by 4 grown men, tied up in ropes (The Goat, not the men), bucking and struggling and screaming, while they attempted to take it out of the back seat of their car (yes – car. Like, Nissan Sunny. Where else would one expect to find a goat?)
They then proceeded to carry it (scream, scream whimper etc) past MY office window and dump it behind MY office, bleating and moaning pitifully. And then they left.
Now – my office is the last office on the end of the block. And The Goat was out of sight round the corner of the block. But – it was there, and it was distraught, and I could hear it.
So – a little astounded at having had A Goat manhandled past my window, and more than a little ruffled by the poor creature’s anguish, I went out To Investigate. (Not The Goat, I must confess – I was not brave enough to see it face to face). I went to interrogate the Goat-Dumpers, who had just dumped Said Goat outside my office and returned to THEIR office, which is at the opposite extremity of the block, and well sound-proofed to boot.
“Er…hello.” said I, wondering what the correct opening to such a conversation should be. “Um…did you just dump A Goat outside my office window?”
“Yes.”
“Oh- yes, I see. Well…um…Whose Goat is it?” Said I, as politely as anything.
“Ours.”
“Oh…OK. Um – what are you planning to do with it?”
“Eat it.”
“Oh. OK. Well, um – when exactly will you be eating it? Only – it’s crying outside my window, and although I technically have no problem with eating a goat, I am having a bit of a problem adjusting to This Goat, crying outside my window. You know?”
Silence.
“Ah…good. OK – so…you are going to kill it?”
“Yes.”
“And eat it.”
“Yes.”
“Ah…great. So – um, when do you plan to kill it?”
“Later.”
“Ah…OK. Um – is there any way you could um…move it, in the mean time? Away from my office, I mean?”
“No.”
“Oh. OK – well, maybe you could just give it some water or something, to try and quieten it down a bit? Only – it seems a bit… distressed, you know?”
“Water?? But we are going to kill it. Why does it need water?”
“Oh – yes. Ok…um…in that case, maybe you could just, um, kill it right away? To, um, put it out of its misery?”
“No. We will kill it later.”
“Oh. Ok – thanks very much. Good bye.” Said I, politely.
And returned to my office. Screams becoming louder and more pitiful as I rounded the corner…Only to meet Itai, who was also returning from his Goat Investigation. He, alas, was braver than I, and had actually been to see The Goat – bloodied, battered and terrified – and had tried to loosen its ropes a bit, and had settled it into a patch of sunlight, where it eventually went to sleep.
For a while.
Then…
Scream. Bleat. Scream.
It started again.
For nearly 5 HOURS.
While it awaited certain execution.
So – I went back to the other office to try again.
“Er…hello, there…um…chaps. It’s me again. Just wondering, um, if you’re nearly ready for lunch…? You know – The Goat…?”
“No. No power.”
“Oh…yes. Yes, quite right. There is no power…well, okey dokey, then. Bye.”
Trundle trundle. Scream scream bleat scream.
And THAT was the straw.
Eventually, the poor goat was duly killed. And cut into bits and shared out amongst everyone concerned. And taken home to cook, Zesa having been true to their word and not managed to restore power that day.
And I sat in my gloomy office, blissful silence at last restored to the sunny patch outside my window, and mused upon my day…And thought…What the f(*&! am I doing here?????