Bryony's Blog

  Whenever my daughter wants to imitate me, she will assume a wistful tone, look into the distance and say something along the lines of: ‘When I was a child, none of the gardens had walls.   We just roamed free, wandering across neighbours’ lawns, picking flowers and swinging from the trees. Nobody locked their doors either, so we just walked through their houses as well, helping ourselves to whatever we wanted.’ Ok, I get the point.   It is easy to look back at the past through rose-drenched glasses and imagine a fairytale world in which there was no crime and everyone loved each other.   It’s par for the course when you get to a certain age and even more common in older Zimbabweans who view the past as a virtual Eden from which they have been ejected. I will try and be as objective as possible.   We were never like some parts of the world, like America, where one lawn seems to run into another and where boundaries are marked by driveways.   When I was growing up in the late 70s a

   My elderly friend and I are discussing the possibility of becoming gold dealers.  It seems everyone is at it these days.  I recently contacted someone who did some work on our driveway a couple of years ago and discovered he no longer does crazy paving; instead, he has become a gold dealer in Esigodeni. I imagine him meeting customers in the back room of some shabby establishment or drawing up next to them in the car park of some shebeen and handing over a bag of gold nuggets in exchange for large wads of money.  'You'd never do it,' says my friend.  'You'd be caught almost immediately.' I must say, I am a little offended.  I don't particularly want to be a gold dealer, but nor do I like being told I lack the ability to be one. However, I know what she means.  I'd be too nice.  Of course, that might just be my  modus operandi.   It would certainly provide a good cover and it save me the need to meet clients in dodgy hotels in the dead of night.  You s

    I am often asked by friends and family who don't live in Zimbabwe why we still stay here. It is not a question that is easily answered, except to say why does anyone live anywhere?  We all have things to complain about wherever we are in the world.  Those who don't experience power or water cuts will complain about traffic jams or the weather.  Nowhere is perfect. Recently, I wrote on Facebook how excited we were when the electricity, that had been off for nine days, came back on.  It was actually longer as we had had nearly a week prior to this of being one phase down, so we had no lights, but some sockets worked and half of the stove as well. Nine days is by no means a long time at all to go without electricity, and nor is two weeks.  Some people I know have gone without for three to six months, a year even.  I am sure there are those on my Facebook page who even wonder why I mention it at all. Surely this is to be expected when you live in Africa.  Perhaps they are surpr