Malawi 2004 - 2007 |
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Sizo's Big Nights Out - A moral tale
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In the zoo of life Sizo is a bear cub. Not for him a quiet time in the undergrowth. He likes nothing more than to bask in the open sun, by the river, scooping what he needs as it swims past, ambling around, rolling and tumbling when others are looking for playful fun. Sizo, loves to go out; loves to dance; loves to drink. But Sizo's problem is that money does not come easy. He can't see that money is something to strive for. More, it is something that falls from the pockets of others into your lap. This bear cub prefers to shake the tree in the hope that fruit will fall rather than roaming the hills in search of succulents. I am one of those fruit trees that he shakes from time to time. "when are we going to Cindelellas (r's and l's are shamelessly interchanged in Malawi)? It's a long time since you took me." Meaning that it was my turn to pay. Sizo and me decided it was time to revisit Henly and Lucius Banda, the singing M.P. It was not a welcoming atmosphere when we got there. Henly was his usual ebullient gabbling self, but the crowd was sparse and although already largely drunk, felt surly. I was accosted by a drunk man who held my wrist strongly and indicated I should join him and his friends on the other side of the dance floor. There was no smile in his eyes or on his face and I pointed to my ears " I can't hear you" I mouthed as I shrugged my shoulders and removed his hand as gently as I could. He gave me a cold stare and went across to his friends. The music was loud and distorted. Those interested in the music were crowded around the stage. There was lots of space on the dance floor. Eventually I joined Sizo for a dance. It was not long until the only mzungo was the target of a gold-digger. A woman in her mid 20s approached and flung her arms around my neck. She was not about to let go. The choice was an undignified struggle to remove her or a dance. So we danced and I moved away at the end of the number to rejoin Sizo. Where Sizo had been there was a Sizo-sized space. As I walked towards the exit I found Henly at my side gabbling even more incoherently than usual. I made out "your friend" but not much more. We left the dance hall and I saw broken glass on the floor. Henly suddenly scuttled away. I went around a corner to the exit and there was Sizo sitting on a chair between one jumbo sized policeman and another small gaunt figure. I hadn't noticed before, but Sizo was drunk and still swigging from a half bottle of spirits. The alcohol was fuelling the fires of anger and the policemen were responding to his finger-pointing outbursts with feigned indifference punctuated by occasional calm responses. As I tried to make sense of what had happened the big rosser stepped forward to shove an insistent drunk back out of the entrance. Another pair argued and pushed their way from inside to out. After five minutes or so I managed to put a blanket over the emotional fire and persuaded Sizo that I should take him home. In the car, the story angrily emerged. It seemed that far from my fantasy that the young dancing woman was fatally attracted to me, we had been set up. As the young woman barnacled herself to my hull, some scurvy knaves had approached Sizo. They wanted to complain that the young woman was married and started a scene. Why were we dancing with her? Sizo's bear nature came to fore. He was not going to back away and went out of the dancehall with the two men. He had not in his inebriation worked out that these were bear hunters. They were joined by three others. He stood strong as bottles were thrown and avoided. Attempts were made to push him over and one punch landed on his eye. The two policemen stood and watched without intervention. He was saved by the arrival of Henly and the sudden disappearance of the hunters back across the border into the dance hall. Why had we been set up? Maybe they wanted to rob him and / or me, maybe they were resentful of the mzungo and his undeserving chum, maybe I had upset the drunk earlier? I decided I could not risk taking Sizo the bear out to Cindelela again.
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It was more than a month later that Mike, our young mzungo, had his 26 th birthday . This could not pass without a party with music, lights and beer. The whole world was invited and Mike insisted that his CEYCA chums should come. By now Sizo, who is the Executive Director's orphaned 20 year old nephew, had been turned into CEYCA's driver, so it was natural that he should be the key figure in getting staff to and from the shindig in one of CEYCA's two vehicles. He was ready for action, sharp in his best clothes topped with a pirate scarf covering his hair. The talk turned to the purchase of drink. " We are going get two bottles of Malawi gin." " Are you driving Sizo?" " Yes." Youth worker steps in. " Sizo you know it is really stupid to drink when you are driving - if you killed someone when you're drunk it would change your whole life etc etc." " Yeah Yeah" Meanwhile, I had driven to area 18 to track down Ndambuki and Kebabe, the Kenyans I had not seen for a while. If Sizo is a bear cub, Ndambuki is a cat. He will snuggle up to you for warmth, but the scent of fish from across the room will see him dart off in the other direction. So it was this night. As we drove Ndambuki had a call. " Can you drive to Area 14 - there is another party of people from my work? I want tell them I can't come." " No, I want to get to Mike's party." *********** Mike's party was a big success. Just enough people turned up, there was lots of dancing, Mike was given a live chicken that sat on his shoulder, a door refused to unlock with Mike inside the room and had to be kicked down and people generally seemed to get quite genially drunk. At around midnight I was trying to pull a very emotional Malawian man out of the flower bed and onto his feet when concerned CEYCA staff asked if I had seen Sizo. I realised that I had not seen him or Ndambuki since early in the evening. It was unusual for Sizo to miss the chance to preen with his cub friends. A drama ensued, how were people going to get home? No-one knew where Sizo and the car were and he could not be contacted. A great thing about Malawians is that nothing is ever a big problem. After two minutes of complaining about Sizo the record for cramming bodies into a Prado was broken and CEYCA staff and girl friends disappeared, upon their way dealing with a drunk and vomiting colleague in the middle of the scrum as a part of the fun. I left at around one o'clock, wondering what had happened to Sizo. Next day I found out. This was how the evening was forensically reconstructed:
8.15 Paul and Ndambuki arrive at the party 8.30 Sizo and CEYCA staff arrive. 2.00 Both arrive back at Mike's party surprised to find that the CEYCA staff has left. 2.15 The cat persuades a drunk cub to drive him home. 3.00 Sizo starts the drive home only to find a truck coming towards him with lights that dazzle him. 3.20 As people try to lift the damaged car from the storm ditch the traffic police arrive to find an irritated bear in confrontational mood with lots of drink inside him and more under his car seat. Later The bear is put in a cage and fined kw 5,000 (£25). Bears should stick to honey and not be tempted by a cat's offer of a fish supper. The result. No job, no money and being sent back to his village near Kasungo. Sizo is now a bear with a sore head.
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