diamond snapshots 1

The last time I saw Shamie, she was living in a maid's cottage with her husband, two boys and newborn baby Ishe (God). I squeezed into the building one grey morning, edging past sofas turned on their sides, overflowing boxes and dining room chairs stacked several high.

They'd been turfed out of the house they were renting in Palmerston suburb. The owner's relative was coming back from the diaspora and needed a place to stay. Before going on maternity leave, Shamie had been working as a lecturer at a local polytechnic. She was giving the job up, she told me, to buy and sell.

They moved out to Fern Valley, to a house with a plot where Shamie would grow vegetables. I texted, 'tried 'phoning a couple of times. Shamie called me once, I remember, when she was in town with her wares. We didn't meet up.

Then, out of the blue months later, she sends an sms. She'd love to see me. "We've been blessed with a car -- two cars actually." She's learning to drive. I'm intrigued. Her husband was studying for his exams (accountancy, I think) when last I saw them: has he passed and got a great job? I do a little bit of sleuthing.

Mrs D. has the answer. Her granddaughter goes to the same school as Shamie's boys -- or did, when the teachers were still teaching (Now they have "study groups", where teachers give lessons to a select few whose parents are willing to pay in forex, say 200 rand a month. Mrs D can't afford to). One of the teachers asked her class one day who'd seen a diamond. Shamie's boy -- the younger one -- put his hand up. "Bring it to school so we can all see," the teacher urged. Shamie's boy did. He's a nice kid, brought up to obey without question as Shona children traditionally were. Mrs D says the teacher (daily pay = 1 million Zimbabwe dollars: daily bus fare to and from school = 2 million dollars) took the stone -- and disappeared for a month.

So that's where the windfall came from. Shamie's husband has done a few diamonds, like so many others here. Who can blame them?

I invite Shamie and the boys round for tea and a swim. I presume she doesn't know that I know. On the 'phone though, as we're firming up arrangements (3 o'clock on Saturday, I'll make a cake, she'll bring some cool drinks) I make a terrible gaffe. She asks after Mai Alfred, a cleaner I once employed and she was keen to take on after me.

"She's not around these days," I laugh. "She's in Chiadzwa, doing diamonds."

Shamie doesn't respond. A few minutes later, she calls back. Sadly she can't make it on Saturday. "Another time, perhaps?"