Sickness and Health by Masimba Musodza

When we pulled up outside the large house in Mabelreign, Rudo asked me if I was still nervous. "I've already told you I am not nervous!" I snapped, peevishly. She laughed, that melodious laughter that always struck at something primaeval deep inside me, the accumulated subliminal memories of courtship rituals etched in my y-chromosome. Only she could do that to me, which is why all this that was happening now- her about to formally introduce me to her Tete (paternal aunt), the first step on the ladder in our society towards getting married-seemed so right... Full Story

Uriah's Vengeance by Masimba Musodza

"I expect you not to have touched anything!" Sergeant Sambiri bellowed ominously, eyeing the corpse as though he expected it to shape-shift into The Swamp Thing at any moment from now and run amok, and he badly needed it to stay dead in order to complete the investigation. He swung his gaze towards the two detectives, his bulk hiding the clock on the wall so that they could not see that the time was nearly 3 a.m. The sibling duo exchanged glances. He towered over them, and they both thought his demeanour was reminiscent of Forest Whitaker as Idi Amin in the recent biographical movie. "Well?" he roared, jolting them to the present... Full Story

Robin Hood & The President's Birthday Bash by Masimba Musodza

Recent issues of Hansard said his full name was the Rt. Hon. Severus Tichadya Nhomi, MP, Governor and Resident Minister of Mashonaland South Province. What they did not say was that he was a fat, squat individual who could hide a mobile phone in the rolls of adiposity that quivered under his arms. That and much more. He frowned, stood against the cabinet with what he probably imagined was the right level of superciliousness with which to receive the younger, affable man who had stepped in to his office and introduced himself as Thaddeus Chibanda, a member of the Fund-Raising Committe for this year's President's Birthday Bash. He had also mentioned that he was based at Kaguvi Building, which was like an American official mentioning to a politician that he was based at Langley. Full Story

Framed by Masimba Musodza

After Cleveland, the stretch of motorway to Marondera was clear of traffic and Abby felt that he had it all to himself at last. With an exultant chuckle, he really put his foot down on the pedal and felt the Land Cruiser shudder as it went in to Warp 9. On the vehicle's mp3 player, some new local act was chanting a mindless ditty in the vernacular, to the tune of a popular American RnB hit, Abby couldn't remember which. Outside, to the right, the lights of distant Chitungwiza shone like candles held by thousands of adoring fans at a rock concert. 'Hey, you're going too fast!' Full Story

In the Blood by Masimba Musodza

The urge to drink was strong, but there was nothing stronger to drink in the office than water. Batsi Makoni gulped down half a bottle before realising how refreshing, how calming it actually was. She stared at the bottle as if in wonderment, then at the rest of the displayed contents of the open fridge. The water had definitely cooled her down enough for her to sit at her desk and think. Leave the yoghurt and the cheese and the ice-cream and the cake alone. For now. It was late in the afternoon. From outside drifted the slow progress of down town Harare's traffic. The window behind her looked over Africa Unity Square. From somewhere within the huge edifice that housed her suite of offices emanated the gentle whirr of a copier. Mundane, familiar sounds. The assurance of continuity and comfort. But her eyes fell on the folders on her desk, and the shock that had seized her moments earlier began to return. Full Story

Yesterday's Dog by Masimba Musodza

It had been It had been a long drive, and Stanley was beginning to doze off. Harare was less than 20 kilometres away on the Mutare Road. The radio was not working, and he had exhausted the four tracks that made up the only CD, why did Zimbabwean record companies sell these as albums? And the air-conditioning wasn't working, leaving him at the mercy-or the lack-of the October heat. He would have gladly stopped somewhere, but the need to get to Chitungwiza was urgent. Already, the sky to the west was tinged with mauve.

Stanley had shut his mind from the outside scenery. So, when the man appeared on the road, he seemed to have materialised from another dimension of his consciousness, an apparition from a half-remembered and not very comforting dream. Full Story