Being in a small town, business was always a bit languid, but
during an economic crisis like the one we’re enduring, business had all but
dried up. This once-upon-a-time-I-had-my-own-business guy has done just
about everything he can to earn a living over the years including
diversifying into all sorts of bizarre products and trades – some legal,
some not so legal – and always keeping his sense of humour intact.
“I am in the Import Business,” he grandly told me when I saw him last year,
exaggerating the word ‘Import’ as if it really meant something. It turned
out he had started employing a couple of guys as runners to bring in
whatever people in his town needed from Botswana and South Africa – soap,
toilet paper, toothpaste.
“Ja, you and everyone else,” I retorted.
That business came to an end when the runners ran but didn’t come back, as
he put it, taking with them some forex he’d given them to buy products. “I
hope the crocs in the Limpopo bit their backsides,” he said at the time,
half-seriously I think. Like so many they had decided to stay in the greener
pastures of South Africa.
But he is on top form again: “Today I am in the doorstop business,” he said.
“Do you know how expensive a doorstop is these days!?” adopting the
you-are-NOT-going-to-believe-what-I’m-going-to-say-next tone of voice that
all Zimbabweans use when they talk about prices.
“How much?” I asked, knowing I was probably going to regret the question.
“Trillions, and maybe even quadrillions of billions of dollars,” he said
earnestly, rrr-rollling out the rrrrr-rillions.
“I am serious,” he insisted when I locked my eyebrows into my hairline,
“doorstops are in big demand. Forget food, forget sadza, forget fuel:
EVERYONE wants my doorstop”.
“Can I have your doorstop then?” I asked, playing along.
“Sure,” he said, “you know what, you are a special person; you can have my
doorstop.” ( There was bound to be a catch with him, and of course there
was). “You can have my doorstop. if you can pick it up!”
“OK, where is it?” I asked gamely.
“There!” he shouted with total delight, pointing to a storeroom door across
the room, his big face beaming happily in anticipation at the culmination of
his joke.
Against the door was a large crate, and in the crate were lots and lots of
plastic bank bags, all neatly containing coins sorted into their
denominations. Too many to count and too heavy to pick up. Each coin the
equivalent of 1 billion dollars minimum.
He was right: the ‘doorstop’ was worth trillions and maybe even quadrillions
and everyone would want it if they could get their hands on it! It had been
there for years gathering dust and today, my friend who was broke a couple
of days ago, was sitting with a small fortune.
“So are you going to at least take me shopping and let me help you spend
some of your trrrrrrrillions?” I joked.
“Nah”, he said with mock thoughtfulness, “my brother overseas says if I keep
them and and wait until they lose their value then he can sell them for me
on Ebay and I’ll be even richer – in US dollars!” he said, bursting into
laughter.
He’s joking of course: the windfall will be spent before hyperinflation
strips it of its value, and that means he has a lot of shopping to do very
quickly – if only he could find something to buy!
I can remember the days when we used to have coins. There was an awkward
period when there was an extreme shortage, and people were buying and
selling bags of change at higher than their value prices, simply so they had
change to give to their customers. Money is never worth what it should be in
Zimbabwe.
Those who were left with bags of change when inflation gripped hard made
jokes about the ‘shrapnel’ lying around their homes and offices. The coins
were so valueless it wasn’t even worth the effort of taking them to the bank
to cash them in. Those people are laughing all the way to the bank now, but
everyone knows it won’t be long before they become worthless again, and
we’re
all taking guesses at how long it will be before we’re back to bank notes: a
couple of weeks, a month? Who knows!
(I am such a cynic, but I’ll bet Gono and the guys at the top all stashed up
on coins before they made the announcement; such an opportunity for quick
wealth would be very hard for the very corrupt to pass up on.)
This entry was written by Hope on Monday, August 4th, 2008
Post published in: News