My brother recently called me to cancel an appointment we had. He was supposed to have visited me that night. His voice was hoarse in that call and I could pick up residues of pain in his tone as he crackled to give his apology that he was not going to honor our appointment because had had to attend a funeral. One of his friends had died of a sudden Cholera attack in Glen-Norah, a high density suburb in the city of Harare. Under normal circumstances I could have lashed at him for cancelling our appointment, but I could not help but console him sincerely, as I could almost see viscous tears drop from his eyes from the our side of the phone.
Still echoing the hurt in my brother’s voice, I made my way into the streets of Harare along 4th Avenue on my way to the bus terminus to catch public transport home. I stopped by some foreign currency street dealers to change 100rands to get some Zim dollar for bus fare. As we traded, I noticed a lady sited by the roadside selling some “mazhanje” (small brownish wild fruits). She was also eating some as she sold them.
I do not usually start conversation with people easily but after the way my day had just gone I was propelled to ask the lady that whether her “mazhanje” weren’t part of the agents spreading Cholera in the streets. She looked at me square in the eyes and said that what the Press was feeding with lies Cholera.
“People are not dying because of Cholera”, she said. “If it is one’s time to die they will die. Even you can die as you are standing there if it is your day has come. If you do not die from stroke you can get hit by a car.” She added.
Before I could answer back the foreign currency dealer handed me nine million dollars, the street equivalent of 100rands on that day. The previous day one could fetch 7.5million dollars for the same amount. If it was not for that I did not have any bus fare I could have waited until the next day to change my 100rands. It probably would have fetched 11million dollars or so.
I turned to the lady and asked if she had any water to wash the “mazhanjes” before she sold them or ate them herself. She confidently answered that her fruits were not dirty. She said that she had purchased them in the afternoon, picking one and throwing it into her mouth. She noisily munched as if to convince me that they were cholera free.
At this juncture I gave her a bit of advice. I told her to get some water for her fruits to avoid spreading any diseases or catching them herself.
Big mistake!
She sharply told me to leave if I did not want to buy and shouted that I wanted to be smart for nothing.
I conceded defeat. Not wanting to be embarrassed in front of the crowds I gathered my tail in between my thighs and proceed to the terminus.
But it hurt so much that Zimbabwe is riding on one of its worst ever cholera outbreaks with more than 300 officially reported deaths and more than a thousand more predictive to be unreported nationwide. Hospitals now resemble sewage works. To rub on to the thorn, nurses opt to stay-away not necessarily because of the meager wages which can barely meet their monthly bus fares, but because of the shortages of materials in the hospitals. Even gloves are out of stock. With this scenario, with philanthropic organizations like UNICEF have initiated massive awareness campaigns, one cannot afford to keep a blunt eye on the scourge, let alone promote it.
Vendors should desist from putting money over their customers’ health. Some of their customers are school children as young as six, who may not fully understand cholera and its signs and symptoms. If we cannot prevent the spread of cholera for our sakes, at least let us do it for the vulnerable young children.
Blame of the outbreak can be put upon the government for its failure over the past eight years to maintain water and sewage systems; run an effective health system; and be more organized administratively; but let this not be the cancer to learned self helplessness. As a rule of thumb, people must Wash their hands before eating, Wash or pearl fruits before eating, Cook food adequately and eat it hot/warm and Clean toilets every day.
Loss of life to Cholera is avoidable and it is not necessary that we wait until we lose a loved one so as to start to acting. I did not know my brother’s friend before his death, but I could sense our phone conversation his pain, frustration and anger of the loss of his friend. Death to Cholera can be so abrupt. A day or two can be the difference between life and death.
Ends
mbonisi
