Yesterday, as I was on my way to Guruve, I passed through one of the leading supermarket chains along First Street to get few bottles of mineral water to take with me. However following the recent price controls basic commodities have disappeared from supermarkets leaving the staff with nothing to do except dust and clean the shelves.

After realising that there was no mineral water in the empty fridges I noticed that there was an unusual funny smell in the supermarket. The shelves that I last saw fully packed with 2 litre bottles of Mazoe orange crush a couple of months ago were now packed with 2 litre scuds of ‘masese’ (opaque beer).

Foodstuffs and other basic commodities are supposed to be found in this supermarket and these scuds should be found in beer halls, night clubs and bottle stores. There is also a shortage of beer across the country, and now it is found in a supermarket. Imagine buying meat, pork sausages and other beef products from a bottle store.

Yes, products delivered at the right time, to the wrong place.

So, instead of looking for various products where they should be found, expect the unexpected.

With the situation Zimbabwe is in at the moment, I have realised everyone, everywhere is now affected. It doesn’t matter if you are a political heavyweight, a soldier, policeman or ordinary member of society, everything is either in very short supply or just not available at all.

It is not just about the lack of meat or eggs, flour, sugar or rice or the daily ZESA (power) and water cuts. Now it is even about beer. When I was in TM this morning, there were very few beers in the refrigerator – and the limit of 2 per customer was being enforced. So people are looking for a “beer” that isn’t necessarily the brown bottle, it could be some other drink.

Yesterday, I was offered a lift home and I noticed the driver was just drinking mineral water, even though the cold weather was not so favourable for one to be drinking water for such a long way.

We got to the police roadblock and they asked for his driver’s licence, which is the obvious first question by the officers mounting any roadblock, and we passed through without any difficulty.

When we entered Mabvuku, I realised this man, was actually enjoying his favourite “other beer” – strong stuff (Mainstay cane spirits) diluted with mineral water. He told me that there is a crisis of beer.

So, next time you find people “drinking beer,” it might be beer, spirits, maheu, whatever you can find. The question is, drinking what?!

Yesterday I went to the shops together with my wife, and when we were checking in different shops and comparing prices I met my young brother with his wife also doing the same thing. Most people think we are twins but we are not, the only difference is that I wear spectacles and my young brother doesn’t.

Anyway the four of us holding our plastic bags walked around the shop buildings rubbing shoulders with vendors displaying their wares of tomatoes, onions, potatoes etc.

My young brother had bought a packet of Chimombe fresh milk for Z$5,000 from a vendor who had packs under his little table – one that is easy to carry when being chased by the police. As I approached the vendor he greeted me with a loud voice: “Aah murungu auya” meaning someone with money. All because of the spectacles.

Then I asked how much a packet of Chimombe was, and guess what? “Only Z$6,000!” he said smiling. But before I handed over the money my young brother quickly asked the vendor why he was charging me more than what he had sold it to him for. The vendor looked at my young brother with bloodshot eyes trying to stop him from telling me the right price.

The vendor later gave me the milk at Z$5,000 each. So that means these vendors will price their wares according to the appearance of the approaching customer. If you wear spectacles, drive a car, and appear or look smart the prices differ.

I had to buy the milk from the vendor because there was none to be found elsewhere in the shops. Nor other things like sugar, cooking oil, flour, etc. These products are only available at vendors’ little tables neatly supported by broken bricks on the road.

Even though the milk is delivered by the official Dairibord trucks it is quickly sold to vendors for resale at exorbitant prices.