I was both deeply disappointed and mildly charmed to find the back page of the business section of today’s Herald taken up by: 5 display adverts, a very large header banner, and the above article: Classification of collars.

The article, Classification of collars, is a 5 column spread about the history, terminology and types of collars in the world. Source? Wikipedia. It even features a detailed graphic which provides, albeit too faintly to really be useful, a visual guide to some of the types of collars described in the article.

On the one hand, I’m gratified that The Herald has to stoop to poaching Wikipedia content to fill its pages. At least maybe that means both its advertisers and its journalists have decided to take their business elsewhere. On the other hand. Seriously? What editor approved this content? This is our national newspaper. There are 12 pages in the front section today, four pages of entertainment news, and another 12 in the business section. And there isn’t enough news of local, national or regional significance to fill the meager balance of these 28 pages which is left after banners, display adverts, pictures and classified adverts have taken their share?

Driving to meet some friends for dinner last night, three things caught my eye:

• An old aged pensioner couple, walking down the road together. Her clutching her TM specials discount circular tightly to her chest. Him in his baggy jersey, pyjama bottoms and slippers.
• A massive triple story wendy house, barreling down the road, strapped precariously to a bakkie, its platform clipping tree branches as the truck swerved to dodge potholes.
• A man gets out of a kombi, and then waves after it with a sigh of frustration when it turned from its normal route, down a side street to look for more customers – the same side street the passenger was now left to walk down.

I’ve seen a headline in today’s Herald, Air Zimbabwe resumes flights.

I’m sceptical; I can’t imagine the structural changes that would be required to make Air Zimbabwe a viable business have taken place. But I’m also relieved. I recently flew from Victoria Falls to Harare via Zambezi Airlines, the Zambian carrier which had been roped in to fly Zimbabwe’s local routes whilst our national airline was out of commission.

The experience was a heart wrenching example of economic decline. The plane left on time, and got us to our destination – exactly what Air Zimbabwe has developed a reputation for not doing. But I was flying within my country. I was going from one of the country’s tourism hot spots to the country’s capital, crossing no international boundaries. But I did so in a plane from Zambia, with Zambian crew. We were served crisps from South Africa, ginger ale from China, and soda water from Malaysia.

Zimbabwe’s manufacturing sector is struggling enough to recover from the economic decline of the previous decade. Can’t we at least have our national airline plying our national routes – and serving drinks and snacks made right here in Zimbabwe?

“July time is hard,” I overheard one woman say to another the other day. They were walking awkwardly, bundled thickly under layers of clothing, blankets wrapped over their skirts, warding off the chill of those long overcast winter days when the sun never makes it through the clouds and no matter what you do you’re cold.

I could resonate. The night before, I’d been invited to a dinner I was relatively certain would be outside. I got home to an all day power cut, so a bath was out. Already freezing before the night even began, I remembered my sister leaving some clothes behind on her last visit. My head lamp on, I rifled frantically through her drawers in the growing darkness, with these two thoughts as my only criteria: let it be warm, and let it fit me.

I flung aside the vests, the skirts, and her partner’s even smaller – but warmer! So much warmer! – tops. And I settled on some baggy long johns and a too-small (but warm!) top to go under everything else, and got dressed – like the women I’d passed on the street, the rest of my outfit now governed by the requirement that my clothes now had to fit over the clothes I was already wearing.

“Good morning sir,” a man called out to me as I came into work this morning.

“Good morning,” I replied.

“Good morning sir,” he said again. His voice was frail, and an unkempt beard hid his dirty, wrinkled face in patches. His red jersey was dotted with holes and seemed little protection against the cold, crisp morning air.

“Good morning.”

“Oh. Good morning ma’am,” he corrected himself apologetically.

“That’s all right,” I smiled. “Good morning.”

He looked at me closely and brought his hand, shaking, close to my face. “Whatever you do,” he leaned in closely and I could see his yellow teeth between the gaps in his mouth. “Whatever you do, don’t give up. Stay strong. Stay strong. And don’t ever lose your pride.”

I thanked him, and he wandered off, taking his own advice as I heard him start up the same conversation with the next passerby.

Please note that the Rituals fundrasising performance scheduled for 29 June has been cancelled, according to this statement from Rooftop Promotions:

Please note from the message below that the Rituals Fundraising Show scheduled for the British Council 29 June has been cancelled and we will be approaching potential funders individually.