I came back home early from work. As members of Imba Yangu Housing Cooperative, we met regularly, twice a month. We used the open space behind Zororo Bar, next to Fatso’s car wash for the meetings.
We were all expected to make monthly contributions of US$50 per month. It was a struggle and a sacrifice making these contributions. What made these monthly payments a big sacrifice was that most of the members were lodgers like me.
I wanted to own a piece of land where I could build my dream house. I had a cat-and-mouse like relationship with the landlord, Mr Tigere. And when I failed to pay the rent on time, he ranted on and on and threatened to evict me from the house. It was stressful. At one time, it was so bad, he threw my property out of the house. The worst humiliation for a family man.
We already had a piece of land earmarked for our housing cooperative and everyone had been shown the land.
When almost everyone was present, the chairman of the cooperative, Mr Sibanda stood up. He cleared his throat. Even before a word escaped from his mouth, his phone barked and he talked for a while on his android phone. After the phone call, he started to speak.
“As everyone knows, we have been engaging with the council fathers about the land earmarked for our housing cooperative. They have finally given us the go-ahead to start servicing the roads and build our houses,” Mr Sibanda said.
It was good news for all of us and people whistled and clapped their hands in anticipated joy. It was not easy to reach this stage. A few months ago, council had warned us that we will not be allowed to build houses on the earmarked piece of land as it was a wetland. So the announcement by the chairman, Mr Sibanda was a welcome development. I looked at the sky. It promised to rain before nightfall.
Someone stood up. It was Baba Musa, one of the members. He was always full of questions and there was an unease relationship with the chairman. He always questioned things and the chairman did not like him because of that.
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He was a cobbler by the shops and also sold airtime. I liked him for his open mindedness although some of the cooperative members regarded him as a nuisance.
“It is good that the municipality has finally given us the go-ahead to start building our own houses on the land. We are all happy about this new development. If you are a lodger like most of us who are senior lodgers, you know the pain,” Mr Musa said. He paused and looked around him. We were all watching him and listening carefully.
“It was only last month, that I was evicted from the house I had rented for the past six years, I did not have money for rent as I had medical bills to pay for my sick wife, but the landlord did not want to hear about it. I am happy that we can now build,” Mr Musa said.
He remained standing. I was wondering what he was driving at just like everyone else as it seemed he was not yet done.
“I want to ask the chairman, is there any written document from the municipality granting us permission to build on the land?” He said and sat down.
I heard one or two people sitting behind me grumble something like, “stop wasting our time.” There was an awkward silence while the chairman, Mr Sibanda stood up slowly. I could see that the question had thrown him off balance. It was quite unexpected. Before he could even say anything, the treasurer of the cooperative Mai Phiri came to his rescue.
“There’s no paperwork yet from council, but indeed they gave us permission to start building on the land. Surely who doesn’t want to start building here? The paperwork can come later. Is there a man or woman who does not want his own house?” Mai Phiri said. Most of the cooperative members seemed to be happy about the arrangement although I could see doubts on the faces of a few.
Baba Musa stood up for the last time. Someone told him to sit down. “I won’t say much, but I hope that, after building our houses, many years down the line, the same municipality you say has granted us permission to build on the land, will not come and demolish our houses saying we built on wetland. We ask the chairman to pursue the matter and get the permission to build to be put in black and white,” Mr Musa said and sat down.
After the meeting broke up, some people remained behind talking excitedly in small groups. I followed Baba Musa. He had a valid point. We were vulnerable if there was nothing in black and white.
The city was full of harrowing tales of house demolitions. Caution was needed. For the ordinary man, the demolitions were swift, brutal and vindictive, leaving a trail of shattered dreams and lives.
- Onie Ndoro
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