The Rib-cracker Rèsumè for Days :)

After working for the last 10 years in a somewhat senior position for the organizations employing me, I had a jolly good time reviewing rèsumès from candidates responding to vacancy notices. A good number were such ribcrackers for days, not sharing would be criminal.

Hard as life is in Zimbabwe, with close to hundred 100% unemployment versus a highly “educated” population (with PhDs), an impressive rèsumè may seem to many as that all mighty master-key which could land them that dream job. Infact in my years of recruitment I have seen all sorts of rèsumès, some so well tailored to the advertised vacancy you would think the candidate was born for the job. Some so jaw-dropping you would swear you were on a reality television show and someone was just going to show up and tell you its a bluff. Be that as it may there a parts of the many rèsumès I reviewed that never failed to make my day.

Hobbies: Sky-Diving, SCUBA Diving, Skiing, Ice Hockey, Horse Riding.

What? Are you kidding me? Are those really your hobbies? Am sure this must be a cut and paste job gone bad. You and I both know that you have never been on a plane in your life let alone skydive. The only flying you have ever done is off the handle. Seriously SCUBA-diving? the only time your head has ever been completely under water was during your baptism with that apostolic faith church at a local river, the bucket you use for your regular bath does not afford you such luxury. The closest you have ever come to a live breathing horse is that mule you abused with an overload during harvest season. I can assure you that fantom-exotic hobbies you have never done (most likely will never do) will not increase your chances of getting that job. They will just make your rèsumè all the more rib-cracking.

Dearly beloved, verily I say unto you as a sincere brethren, it is perfectly normal and okay to mention real hobbies undertaken and indeed unashamedly enjoyed by ordinary Zimbabwean folk such as watching T.V, going to church, gossiping with friends and neighbors, abusing your spouse, boozers soccer, knitting, reading the newspaper etc. Purge that very thought of wanting to assume that your hobby is cycling, running or hiking, no no no, that is your means of getting to work, its not a hobby.

Experience: Highly experienced professional with relevant skills.

You are educated, yes, just completed your undergraduate degree which you undertook straight from high school, so no! no! no!, you are not “highly experienced” rather say “green as a green-bomber and willing to learn” . The only experience you have is writing plagiarized mediocre-mark assignments and assuming you are the coolest thing that ever walked through varsity, welcome to the real world!

References: Professor Johns ( don’t forget he was an octogenarian in 1980)

So with over 25 years of experience you did not think it necessary to check whether your contactable references are still with a university on this planet. Yes you have been working for well over a quarter of a century and the geriatric professor you put as a reference may just well be simply unavailable now. Okay lets look at a variation here, you still have your college professor of a decade ago as a reference, either you were extremely bright or supernaturally dull, otherwise they just wouldn’t have any good God fearing reason to remember you enough to be a character reference.

That said, the really smart ones are reassured by their own (water-into-wine) faith, that they can get away with reference dropping. Yes, that blasphemous act of dropping in a high profile figure as your reference, simply motivated by that single chance encounter you had with them and you said hello to them (trust me they really have no clue who are, neither do they care). And you can be as sure as hell your potential employers are not going to embarrass themselves calling them. Please disabuse yourself from that toxic fantasy. If you are really hard pressed, and need a reference with a bit of clout, that prophet fellow from your church, will also work just fine. After all, in a largely christian nation, am sure even companies would value employees that can pull a profit miracle now and again; what with all this miracle money flying around.

Just my thoughts, nothing personal!

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Forward ever Sisi Tino Katsande…

                                                                                                                                               

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Dear Sisi,

Just as we had expected, that out of all the forensic evidence you laboured to supply about what did or did not transpire on the fateful day of your disfigurement, our enemies have stood firm, feeding the dark cloud which hangs above your ill-fated ordeal. They are relentless in their pursuit to discredit you Sisi and nit picking alleged inconsistencies in your story. So what if the story you tweeted is completely a different book from the story presented in court – isn’t that what they call freedom of expression, and besides Magistrates don’t read tweets, they expect a fresh serving of their own when it comes to trial accounts. It is shocking how ignorant and backward some of these comments on social networking platforms are –  for crying out loud have they not ever watched a simple movie called the Matrix. If they have then they will know that there are many parallel universes, and in each one Sisi, there is a replica of you, which explains how you ended up with two completely divorced accounts of what happened on Sunday. And for as long as it takes we stand by you, never mind from which universe the current you is from at any given time, and which ever account you give.

Brother Brian must pay and pay he will for bashing you blue-black like that. (Vazopinda munjodzi chaiyo manje tsano Brian, apa imi Sisi mapona). The cause we are fighting for is not about consistencies, character histories or even tact, its about getting the story out there and pump it with fact, fiction, thoughts and whatever arsenal we can lay our hands and mouths on. This is what will win the war, and this particular battle is already won. November 29, when your trial resumes seems an eternity, is there no one we can buy lunch for Sisi, so that things move a little faster, or perhaps not, since the trial will nest itself deep in the thick of 16 days against gender violence. Maybe then we will have the full backing of others from the women’s movement who have remained suspiciously mum on such an important matter involving a high profile figure like you Sisi. You are not Maneta or Bev Sisi, they ought to give you more respect. I will write to you again Sisi when the trial resumes. Just my thoughts, nothing personal.

Tino Katsande… Ahh sorry Sisi!

Let me start by apologising to you sisi, on behalf of all the men-folk for the terrible bashing that you had to endure at the hands of Brother Brian. No one should ever have to go through this especially without any provocation what-so- ever. I know you my sister to be very well mannered and cool headed, you inspire us with your softness, particularly your knack for knowing what to say and when to say it, I can’t imagine anyone being provoked by the way you conduct yourself. This is who you are. I also know that this terror on you was not any act of retaliation because you are not like those other spike-tongued ladies, who literally beckon abuse with their foot-in-mouth-disease. You are as soft as they come, you most certainly cannot be accused of belligerence. Regrettable that this had to happen.

I hear that shameless Brother Brian is out on $100 bail. What a dangerous thing to do, exposing the world to such villainous terror. Just so that you know sisi, we have enemies, who have started spreading malicious rumours that you too have always been in the habit of abusing Brother Brian and that the fateful day when he disfigured you, was the day he decided to hit back – How absurd, that cannot be true, even though there are many witnesses to this allegation. I stand by you and say they are all liars, liars, liars. And for these brazen liars to further add that you are known to have perpetrated violence on Brother Brian- occasionally bashing him on the head with all manner of pots and pans is ludicrous.

Anyway while you were gasping for survival, suffering the indignity of assault, and the humiliation of loss, social networking platforms were busy running a rant about your unsolicited misfortune –Vanhu vatowanaka muriwo wekuseva vhiki rose. Yes, some are on our side sisi, expressing their genuine sympathies while others keep requesting for the totally irrelevant other side of the story.  Of what importance is it?  – Some even daring to question whether it’s really true that the mere request for Brother Brian to help out in the house was his full moon, instantly transforming him into the Werewolf that attacked you.  When has the other side of the story ever mattered in a case such as this, worse still, now there are emerging fictitious falsehoods of your own violent nature. We stand by you sisi and admonish Brother Brian for his unbecoming behaviour. Let’s assume even by some wild stretch of the imagination, that you had provoked (ofcourse this could never happen) Brother Brian, he had no reason, right nor permissible human reflex to unleash such terror on you. Though they may say you are a drama queen trying to harvest cheap mileage ahead of sixteen days of activism against gender violence, I know better than listen to such unfounded and baseless deductions. Who in their right mind could find time under the circumstances to be so calculating as to whip up a media frenzy. You are our hero sisi, the enlightened one, fighting gender violence from within.

Your tragedy sisi came just hot on the heels of this yet another misguided article I was reading in the Monday Herald featured on the Gender Desk, claiming that men too are victims of GBV- what nonsense. Its all too common knowledge that its only women like you sisi , the calm and quiet ones, who are victims of domestic violence, or if you prefer the more fancy expression gender based violence. I have never heard of a man abused by emotionally or even otherwise, nah, nada-simply has never happened.  Shall we kneel now and thank our gods that we have a platform through the station you work for sisi, to make this sad happening a real big issue – a media festival. And we close our ears and eyes to all those who are trying to restrain us by saying we are blowing the mundane out of proportion. And just so that tabloid journalists know, it does not bother us whether Brother Brian is referred to as a husband, lover or boyfriend, what matters is the senseless and unprovoked crime he committed. I will write to you again sisi, as the saga unwinds. Speedy recovery!. Just my thoughts on behalf of my sister, nothing personal Brother Brian.

Zim Constitution Making- Hark! the circus is in town

Currently the Constitution Select Committee (COPAC) –yes I know its not the CSC, that would have  sounded suspiciously like some cow slaughter place- Anyway these guys have completed the final draft of the Zimbabwe Constitution. The freshly pressed constitution has been embraced by some and amended 266 times by some, yep, reads something like the opening of a multiple sub-plot soapie doesn’t it, and yes your favourite villains and heroes are in it too. If nothing else the circus is indeed in town.

I have been trying to make head and tail of what the learned fellows and other important people are bickering about around the constitution, and honestly it’s like the stuff of camels and needle eyes. For me the debate has just gone too far up the tree, and the lighter branches at the top are too delicate to support the weight of my ignorance. We have heard of “forensic” evidence in the form of a national statistical report to prove beyond reasonable doubt that the official COPAC draft constitution we have is really “a bastard child” of the unholy union of political interests. One political party has now abandoned this poor child in favour of another whose paternity is equally questionable.

Research & Statistics 101

I am sure the very important people and learned fellows in this debacle, know exactly what they are talking about when they argue data collection, methodological approaches, uses or misuses of the statistics, whether or not it is standard practice to moderate/negotiate qualitative information to make it make sense – bottom line is we really don’t give a flea’s behind about your fundi talk. Surprisingly we boast of being among the most educated in Africa, when the best of our minds can’t even reach consensus on how to construe the meaning of statistical frequencies in the data from the outreach. After all what do we as pedestrians know about research and statistics, save for the fact the average Zimbabwean has it up to the neck, and that the frequency of failed leadership is statistically significant to infer change. Juxtaposed to all this hogwash are our genuine concerns about time wasted away from our wives, girlfriends and small-houses contributing to the constitution making process. The pleasures we denied them in the name of contributing to a better Zimbabwe. Surely our women will punish us for this.

 Meanwhile… in a related matter, Sex Strikes- Martian Weapons!

So while the constitutional battles are raging, in parallel, the Martian and gender movements are also fighting their own battle. A few weeks ago, I just so happened to find myself ‘teleported’ to a Martian meeting where the draft constitution was being discussed at a plush local hotel.

The agenda was quite straight forward, to celebrate victory that the draft constitution had managed to capture 75 % of the demands made by women and Martians alike. The concern then was to ensure that no other nefarious elements would hijack the process and disposes these victors of their hard-won victory. As the  evening continues a stark realisation is made, that in order to consolidate the gains in the new constitution there is need to seek inclusion as martian kindred in the Government of National Unity (GNU) talks being moderated by the South African facilitator Mr Jacob Zuma. A plan is thus immediately hatched by martian think-tanks, -I kid you not to lay siege on the Zulu nation premiere, when next he comes to Harare. The idea here being to haggle with him to mainstream martian and women’s issues into the agenda of the coalition government talk. And get this – to fortify the plan and make it fail safe, women in the room are encouraged unanimously to go on sex-strike. Yes that’s right, sex strike, another martian tactic which is clinically engineered to harm only the men, who would wither and die without the oxygen from being “given” sex by a woman. It’s fast becoming a popular weapon among “progressive” women in Europe and Africa. What’s wrong with this picture folks, sex-starved women of Zimbabwe laying siege on the acclaimed Mr Mchina Wam, at an expensive hotel – you do the math.  What a wind-fall for our sisters of the night – who would no doubt not let such a business opportunity slip through their fingers. I feel sorry for the ordinary guy, the pedestrian like me.  Imagine some security guard somewhere, coming home after a rough cold night shift only to be authoritatively informed that until the current problems in the country disappear, Disney land will be closed for business, and the poor soul clutches on the gates like a child, crestfallen in the full knowledge that they can’t do anything to get things moving any faster.

“We want in on the death penalty,  its our right to be hanged”

My cherry on top for the evening which literally sent me to the gallows, was the house arguing that they do not want preferential treatment exempting them from the death penalty. I couldn’t agree more, this has to be the gold standard in walking the gender-equality talk. I mean come on, who campaigns to be killed, and this I can assure you must be a first. The question in my pedestrian’s mind is, women and Martians not smoke-screening themselves from the real issues which they you should be confronting with, like pushing for consolidation of the surgically calculated 75% gains from the COPAC draft, rather than beckon the gallows. Well what do I do know.

Excuse me Right Honourable Prime Minister Tsvangirayi, hope am not disturbing…

On a concluding note! Congratulations Honourable PM on getting all pedestrians a brand new Auntie – Pedestrians and the PM are kindred spirits sharing common interests in the movement for ordinary folk. And so after the media frenzy about the your love life and so-called womanizing habits, the battle was won by the deserving team, the harder they are to get the better they are when you get them. Agree with me or not but the Prime Minister’s tomfoolery episodes were sheer political genius. For me it was reminiscent of the Italian 1930s Premier who sought to divert public attention from economic problems in the country by invading some country in Africa – or at least so I was taught. In comparison it would appear that our PM succeeded in diverting our attention from the constitution making fiasco, given that the media was fraught with the gory details of the PM bedroom issues – shame on you all hopeless voyeurs. It is my pedestrian’s deduction that this wedding or whatever became of it could not wait just a little longer to allow other “less important” things to pass. I am convinced that getting us a first lady (if that’s what you call a PM’s wife) was so important at such a turning point in the history of this country that it was worth putting everything else on auto-pilot while you picnic in the courts. I know how special a lady can be, because I too at a certain point in high school failed to make good grades distracted by lass I was in pursuit of. Though eventually it didn’t work out, it was worth the chase, it always is – and Martians daresay that women do not have power! If this is not power then I don’t know what is.  I had the opportunity to glean  through the PMs bevy of ‘pasts’ and ‘presents’ and definitely no one in their right mind could ever accuse him of having bad taste. The guy definitely has good taste and a good eye for extraordinary beauty. Am sure I resonate with a lot of young people out there when I say “Nigga’s got Swagg”. Well just my thoughts, nothing personal!

That “Martian” called Feminism

I am enthusiastic about learning new cultures, religions, cults and fundamentalisms. It all makes good reading, while I fade off to sleep. The stories always help me enrich my own dreams, adding a little spice if you like, to make them exotic to my usual experiences.

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Star Wars- here comes the Martian.

I however just have a few concerns about this extra-terrestrial Martian fundamentalism called FEMINISM. Practiced the way its idealised, it easily passes off as a neatly packaged cult – hell it freaks the damn balls off my yeyo, nhankire. Being the pedestrian that I am, I have not bothered to twist my brain, trying to understand the intricacies of this cult. All I know is that this Martian has landed on earth, and it’s demanding us to take it to our leader.
I am reliably informed by some fundi-colleagues that the idea is not about hating men, but about looking out for the interests of women-folk. Fair and fine I can understand that, but just like any other –ism, my concern is around the doctrine feel of the whole idea. I have often spoken of feminism as easily comparable to Nazism, simply because its an aggressive –ism, with real teeth and bites like a rabid dog. I am reminded of how some of these highly trained martial- arts experts need special permits to travel beyond borders, so too should ordinary women (and men) possessed with the spirit of this Martian.
Be logical embrace oppression.

Yes you say it’s not about hating men, or about female supremacy, blah blah, in fact it is exactly that. If I were a woman I would hate men too, in the same way biblical Joseph was hated by his many brothers. I have always had this nagging question though, how did it come to be that one species of mankind ended up domineering over the other. I won’t even waste time with the tired one about how Adam was created first and how his rib or whatever part of his body was taken to create Eve, nor any of that other half-wit biblical women-should-submit stuff no!. Today I deal with simple logic, literally the intelligence of reflex. Question: How did women come to be oppressed by men? Answer: In the same way dominant races have come to oppress weaker, or put in politically correct language “less strong” ones. So it’s a simple question of jungle law,- survival of the fittest- whoever has the biggest bite tops the food chain. Of course it makes sense to argue that we are more civilised than jungle mates, and we should act differently, but are we really? Just look around you, how many times are you oppressed in a day, at work by your boss, on the road by other motorists with bigger cars, even the weather can oppress you whenever it chooses, the list is endless, so why aren’t you hob-nobbing and caucusing to birth another -ism to fight that.

The Great Conspiracy

I know about the agenda of this Martian cult, its mission is to eliminate mankind and take over the world, I know this to be true because of secret dossiers leaked to me by turncoats that crossed over to our side. For the love of men, poor souls, I will have you all cult leaders know that actually men are not as tough as you think, and waging a war on them just wouldn’t be fair – come on guys you know am right . Men are such soft creatures, more like those crustacean French delicacies women like to order when they are not paying, rock-hard on the outside, jelly-soft on the inside. I would bet my bottom dollar that men would never survive reverse-oppression which the very thought of FEMINISM inspires. Besides is it not women who always say men never grow-up, they are simply expired children. Women then must love children, entrusting them with leadership at all levels of human governance. Looked at from another angle how can feeble “man-kind” compete with the super human strength of sustaining the pulsating pain of a ten centimetre, 60 degree angle stiletto all day just to prove a point, doesn’t matter to who.

The Gender Agenda

Without turning into some hopeless semanticist, I dare ask, whatever happened to gender activism, that other obscure concept. Studied for a whole semester in our universities, but upon graduating with distinctions most are absolutely clueless about what they just studied. To pedestrians, like me, “Gender activism” is like a coin with two heads, you throw in the air a couple of times and keep hoping that by some mathematical probability, you will eventually see the tails side. Well good luck because that’s never going to happen. Here is the comparison, though they tell you it’s about men and women, that’s some damn wool over your eyes right there, actually I think its more, it’s a whole jersey pulled over your head. Confused as it sounds I still like it, more like a vodka shot I pop into my mouth make an ugly face and pretend to enjoy it because it makes me a man. So I am going to like it because it makes me a man, that’s what real men do. In my view gender activism is a more socially palatable ideology, less samurai, more progressive and saleable on the open market, like dried food. If anything I like the fact that it is full of political promise, pretentious about addressing the needs of men, though we publicly know that’s unlikely to materialise in this millennium.

Nipples of Steel.

Here is a quiz question for those astute in trivia, – What’s the difference between a child soldier and a feminist? Well the former is brainwashed and armed with a gun to kill mercilessly, while the latter is armed with weaponising ideology, fortifying her literally with “nipples of steel”. When an enemy is in sight she only needs open her mouth and guts spill out with toxic backwash talk. You only need to even accidentally find yourself in one of these Martian spaces, for a scathing of your life- all hairs on your chest kaputt! gone. They mean what they say when they repeat that they “don’t do men anywhere else but in the bedroom”. That’s right you need to know your place when you are around them, your opinion is not required neither does it matter. Careful now, that beard of yours may just be confiscated and turned into a weave.
Ultimately both the feminist and the child-soldier are impossible to demilitarise, demobilise and reintegrate into “mainstream society”. I don’t need TB Joshua or Makandiwa to tell me that a century from now, men will be scurrying for their lives, fighting oppression, and running masculinism movements. Thank God I will be dead and gone by then. As for now we refuse more landings by these Martians, and their spirits taking over the bodies of our dearly beloved and sensible, mothers, sisters, wives, girl-friends and even small houses. On behalf of all peace loving pedestrians I recommend that one just wants to practice feminism in dubious NGO spaces with the promise of good donor funding. Girls nights out are also good spaces and afterwards neatly pack the Martian into a small-steel-pink-air-tight box when its time to re-enter the real world of negotiated existence, back home. Just my thoughts-nothing personal.

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Religious Chain mail – Stop it! I really don’t like it.

“GOD our Father, walk through my house & take away all my worries & illness; & please watch over & heal my family in Jesus’ name… Amen.  This prayer is so powerful. Pass this to 12 people in 10 minutes.  A blessing is coming to you in 4 mins of a new job, a house, marriage or financially. Do not break or ask questions. This is a test. Does GOD come first in your life? If so, stop what you are doing and send to 12 people NOW, or you may receive bad luck.”

 

Last week I received the email above for the umpteenth time, nothing new, just the angling and the threat level.  I have always wondered how it is that the people who generate these emails are so precise, to the extent that everything is so calculated to the letter,  – send to twelve people- do it in ten minutes-27 words-, really, who is the angel-cum-mathematician behind these prophetic formulae, and less importantly who is benefiting out of it. Reminds me of Mapostori, some of whom have never been to school but amaze you with how they are so meticulous in instructing you to do certain things a certain number of times, facing certain directions, and if you make an error oops there goes your damn blessing.

Coming back to my story, I am actually terrified at how some of these religious emails, hold you hostage, and demand specific action of you, literally at gunpoint,  am talking about the usual- send this to 12 people- Please do not break this “holy” chain or else you will have 10 years bad luck and do not ask any questions – what nerve – oppressing my freedom like that.  After reading this one I already feel like a hostage.  Even as  a  God fearing shiny-suit, snake-skin-shoe and tongues-speaking Christian I am disturbed by this our-lord-working-in-mysterious-ways approach,  unless of course heaven has a new marketing and sales guy eager to please the boss.  Under such duress, nothing scares the freaking beard off Abraham more than the thought of losing my internet connectivity, ah God forbid!. I swear I will connect it with my own damn hands. Of course if you do lose connectivity, well then, you are done for, thence begins your curse.

Some free advice here- if you see an email of this nature in your inbox and you have gyrating internet connecting in fits, (probably with one of these dongles) then stay the hell away from that “read mail” button. The email clearly states that do this in the next 10 minutes and you know you won’t make it. Well it is my pedestrian’s deduction that if you cannot follow the simple instruction then sorry, but you have just cursed yourself, is it? Ah No! whole load of cow-droppings. What well-meaning Christians worth their salt find humour in weaponising our beliefs, abuse our faith and use them as arsenal for oppressing us account of our ignorance. So my message- if you call somebody your friend, colleague or even at the very least an acquaintance whose email you have the pleasure of knowing, please do not forward them threatening chain mail.  Everybody has enough enemies to oppress, work with those. SO friend! Keep your email and let me keep my blessings. Stop it coz I really don’t like it.  Well just my thoughts, nothing personal…

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