Staffrider Vol.3 No.4 Dec-Jan 1980 - DISA

ZIZAMELE:That's what I'm asking you. You are the onewho is making all the noise.MABANDLA: What's your answer, Job?JOB: I don't know. I don't know anything.MABANDLA: Nothing? Aai, that is a change. (Laughs).JOB: Are you still here to lecture me on my sons?MABANDLA: No. I came to confess my own. Have somecoffee.He pours the coffee into three cups. The offer excludesZIZAMELE. He goes to his sack, and shamefacedly producesthe mug he stole earlier on.ZIZAMELE: Yes. I took it. I'm sorry, I didn't know youwanted it.JOB: Keep it.MABANDLA: You also want some coffee?ZIZAMELE: Aah, mfundisi. I think you understand thehuman stomach. (He drinks it.) Ei, it's good. (Even JOBreluctantly drinks his coffee.) It's good, isn't it? You makegood coffee, mfundisi. You know what? I got some bread inhere. Anyone like a piece of bread? (Takes it from his sack.Reluctantly, they each take a piece, and eat. As they eatand drink, the feeling among them changes. They seem tofeel more confident of themselves.)JOB: My wife. You sit there, and say nothing.MABANDLA: Does she have to speak? She sits next to youin the ashes. It says more than words.ZIZAMELE: Yes. Teach him, mfundisi. He is a big talker,but he is also a bit thick-headed.MABANDLA: How is it that a rubbish hunter knows morethan we do?ZIZAMELE: I use my head. I see things properly.MABANDLA: Yes?ZIZAMELE: Yes! What other choice have you got? What elsecan you do but live your life?MABANDLA: Ei! You should be doing my job.ZIZAMELE: Am I right?MABANDLA: Ewe! The man who says all life is shit needs agood wash.ZIZAMELE: That's it! That's it!JOB: And that's me?MABANDLA: If you say so.JOB: No. Tell me.MABANDLA: Aai, Job. You will know what you will know.JOB: (Bitterly) Ag!There is an uncomfortable silence. Nobody seems to knowwhat to do next. ZIZAMELE breaks the silence. He beginsby making his story funny, but soon realises his tone iswrong.ZIZAMELE: Sometimes, when you are digging in the rubbish,looking for bottles, you have to dig very deep. You arejust fishing around, and suddenly your hook touches something,and you pull. You never know what you are going tofind. So you pull. And you see a hand or a foot. And youpull more, and out it all comes.MABANDLA: What?ZIZAMELE: You pull out a small baby.MABANDLA: Aai.ZIZAMEME: You think I am lying? People even throw theirbabies onto the rubbish heap. Little ones, with solemn facesand sad mouths, their heads and bodies covered with ashes.MABANDLA: Aai. Typhini Tixo.ZIZAMEME: Someone has just thrown it away. A whole life.Someone who could be a man or a woman and say to you,'I'm your friend'.MABANDLA: Aai. Aai.ZIZAMELE: I'm telling you the truth.MABANDLA: Yes. I've heard it. But why do you tell usthings like that?JOB: You. (Touching MABANDLA) I know who you are.You were burned alive in the fiery furnace. I cannot helpyou, my friend. You are burned to ashes.MABANDLA: (Shaking his head) Aai, aai, aai. Job. You arefar gone.JOB: (To ZIZAMELE) How do you feel?ZIZAMELE: Cold. Hungry.JOB: Then you feel like a man.MABANDLA: I don't understand you.JOB: Aah. That's it. That's it.ZIZAMELE: This cold wind. You*know what it means?JOB: No!ZIZAMELE: It means very soon we shall have the sun. Thenmy toes will feel warm again. (JOB, sitting on his stump,begins to make shoes, much absorbed in his work.) I'd betterpack up. I've got a long day ahead of me.MABANDLA: Don't go now. You have been a great comfortto Job tonight.ZIZAMELE: I don't know what to say. The rats will feellonely without me.MABANDLA: Well. You know where I live. Any time youneed help, come and see me.ZIZAMELE: I don't know what to say.JOB: Say nothing then.ZIZAMELE: What's he doing?MABANDLA: Making a pair of shoes.ZIZAMELE: Shame.JOB: There you are. Come here, my friend. Come here andsit down. Let's see how they fit you. (He mimes putting apair of shoes on Zizamele's feet) Yes. I knew you wouldremember me. I remember that pair of shoes I made for you.You wanted a strong pair to grip your ankles because of yourjob — standing all day. How do they feel?ZIZAMELE: Wonderful. I never had such a good pair before.JOB: This time, when you walk.you will not feel the stonescutting into your feet.ZIZAMELE: I was only walking home.JOB: I know. It's a long way home, isn't it?ZIZAMELE: (At a loss, fumbling with his bag.) Well. If youdon't need me, I'll just make my way off. So long. Don't forgetthis. (Picks up the sign.)MABANDLA: This?ZIZAMELE: What does it say?MABANDLA: Job Mava. Shoemaker. God is love.ZIZAMELE: Is that what it says?MABANDLA: That's what it says. Come, Job. Let's gohome.Exeunt all but ZIZAMELE. He seems lonely, for a moment,but turns to the audience, talking himself and them into abetter mood.ZIZAMELE: Well. I'm alone again. But that's all right by me.We are born alone, and we all die alone. I am used to it. Yousee, I have had a good night. I got a mirror, a cup, and twofree cups of coffee, and some interesting conversation. That'ssomething, heh?When they get home tonight they will ask themselves, 'Whois that man Zizamele?' The religious ones will say, 'Oh. He isan angel who appeared out of the darkness.' (Laughs) Youknow — I don't think Job won his argument with God. Whynot? Because he was only talking to himself, all the time,really. He just could not stand the idea of suffering. Well,who can? We all suffer, don't we? And did he learn anything?Maybe he learned that it's better to be alive than to be dead.Better to work, eat, sleep and have friends than to lie downthere in the old rubbish dump of the earth.The sun will come up soon. They say the coldest time is alwaysjust before dawn. Well, suppose I'd better be going.Oh, by the way, if ever you go to the Municipal rubbishdump, don't forget. Look out for me.Waves goodbye. Exit.End.STAFFRIDER, DECEMBER 1980/JANUARY 1981 29