strike

"The bad news," Kimmy says, "is that the teachers are on strike."

"Yes," Mai X says. "The bad teachers. The hungry teachers." (She was one herself before she took an extended "sabbatical").

I scan the kids' faces. Five-year-old Joe is in the front row. His mother's a state teacher too, out in the rural areas in the east of the country. She came back home Wednesday this week because of the strike. ZIMTA, the main teachers' union is fed up because soldiers got massive cash injections -- more than one billion dollars, though it's not clear if that's a pay-hike or just a one-off cash injection -- ahead of the polls next month. Teachers weren't so lucky. "I'm going to be calling round your place," Joe's mum whispers. "I've got lots of free time this week."

"There are no lessons," Kimmy says. She's bright like her mother, who was once a government school teacher but got out a couple of years ago to work for the central bank. "There are just two students left."

"Ah," says Mai X. "The student teachers. They are not allowed to strike. Their lecturers say so. But the lecturers are also on strike, so..."

Nicola puts up her hand. She has a new orange T-shirt today, with straps criss-crossed over her back and a rich auburn weave in her hair. She makes scrunchies to boost her pocket money. "Our teachers are not on strike," she says proudly.

"Ah," says Mai X. "That is because it is a private school. You pay your teachers nicely. But you, you others, what do you do at school then?

Amos puts up his hand. "We play," he says. I picked Amos up Thursday on his way home from school. He was wearing an immaculately-ironed uniform even at 3 in the afternoon: big floppy-brimmed margarine yellow hat, a brown pullover. Amos is always worried about his mother.

"What, the children are on strike too?" Mai X says in mock horror. "No, no, that is not good. You must take your books and study. See, the teachers will be on strike all this week too. So you must not use bus fare to go to school because it is wasted. You must see if there is a girl or boy next door and study with them."

"And," she says, warming to her theme, "because ZESA (the state power utility) is also on strike, you must study while there is light. Have you seen how much moonlight there is these days? You can even use the moon to read your books."