Culture

Squeezing lonely hearts

 

So long we have been discussing Chimimba’s girl-chasing escapades. Few of those who retell the short-time things the man of soft drinks does in dark corners are saints.

 

“If you are holier, throw a bottle at me,” I, Zikathankalima, challenged Chimutu, who tells tales for a living.

“That’s an insult to women who endure Chimimba’s sexual advances. Is that how you want to commit suicide, Zikatha?” intruded the bartender as Chimutu shut down.

 

Well, I am no Jesus, but I have seen enough in this crazy world where drunkards and politicians are forced to quit their dirty jobs because they speak too much.

 

Fortunately, Chimutu is not big-headed for nothing. Although his skull is stuffed with scandalous stories, he stands aside and keeps quiet when the going gets tough—the simple task Finance Minister Ken Lipenga ought to have tried after admitting that government actually borrowed billions to paint a rosy picture of the thorny budget of yesteryear.

 

So long about the troubled minister’s slip of the tongue! Don’t some of us take katapira (usury) just to show our spouses and spare sweethearts that our salaries are above devaluation level?

 

That was an aside. But why was Chimutu silent?

 

Rewind to last Friday.  The man was cornered by a lonely heart he has been kissing and milking lately.

 

Chimimba and I were out when the storyteller phoned to ask us for K500 000 because his house was under fire.

 

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

 

“Just hurry up, achimwene. That lonely girl is evil.”

 

Which girl? Dumbfounded, we put the bottles down and run to Chimutu’s rescue—for hell has no fury like a woman scorned. On arrival, we found our man quarrelling with the businesswoman who had been “buying him booze and cars” lately. It was the same Chimimba once dated.

 

“Mr Never Married, who are these cartoons leaning against my car?” she fumed?

 

“Calm down, madam. Please, pepani,” pleaded the man as she sneered at Chimutu’s shocked wife and dirty, stunted children.

 

Chimimba quietened them because all the fuss and fighting would have attracted unnecessary crowds.

 

From their squabbling, we learnt that they first met when the angry widow advertised her lonely heart in some newspaper. She was looking for a marriage partner, but Chimutu, who has a choir of children, was the first to call. She thought the earliest was the dearest, but the man never allowed her to know his home.

 

She complained: “Being desperate, I did not suspect he was married. Who would know he was one of those who pretend to be single while many are dying of loneliness?

 

“I gave him my heart, money and car, but he even had the cheek to take me to his friend’s mansion, claiming it was his.”

 

When did my nest become a mansion? I murmured as Chimimba probed: “Didn’t he tell you he has children?

 

“How could he mention these tadpoles when he did not even tell me about their mother?” she answered.

 

It appears Chimutu’s lips have been overdosing her with kisses and romantic stories, while the hands were stealing her wealth and blinding her from his loveless home and history.

 

 “Ever since I knew him, he has been borrowing money to solve one business problem after another.

 

What business? Storytelling? The questions were piling when she revealed that she even lent him a car to save his construction business.

 

We all laughed.

 

“That’s funny, isn’t it?” she scoffed. “Like all fools, he has been carrying hookers in my car, but little did he know my folks were trailing him.”

 

She paused, pointing at bouncers in her car.

 

Chimutu was lucky to escape them several times, but he couldn’t fool them all the time. According to the lonely heart, she and her team were following him when his wife and children rushed to welcome ‘his car’.

 

“All we want to know is: Whose children are these if you are not married? If you cannot answer, give me my money, Gold Digger!” she shouted.

 

Paradise knows no saint like a man caught pants down. Checkmate. 

 

As Chimutu groped for believable lies, we were amazed how people use lonely hearts to find quick money and sex.

 

But this Zikatha—Carol’s husband and Ulunji’s father —I wondered how long adults need to date before they start sharing their bodies and money at a time 50 000 Malawians contract HIV and Aids annually?

 

Related Articles

Check Also
Close
Back to top button