Apologies are in order for my no-show last week, and for those vendors who were assaulted for selling an incomplete product at a time when the price of this paper went up. It was just a coincidence, no harm intended. Blame the economy for its unpredictable histrionics doing untold damage to the pocket. Any excuses? I must admit that I was buried under an avalanche of Trade fair Cocktail parties only to emerge on the very Sunday you were unfortunately expecting to see my visage and the associated nonsense.
You see, being the celebrity that I now am, everyone and their grandmother want a piece of me, particularly these Harare types whose source of dough knows no end. Everyone loves to be seen with someone famous and to buy them drinks too! I was so overwhelmed! Even ZTV wanted me to present their ‘five-minuters’, which I politely declined and passed on to my good friend Walter. My schedule was just too tight.
But let me tell you something for nothing. Those who say that there is no money in this country are lying. Even if they are printing it, there are people pout there who know how to spend it. And they came to the Trade Fair to do just that. Every firm worth its name threw a shindig to end all shindigs! For the uninitiated in the language of the oppressors, a shindig is a party, my friend.
The only brewer in the country had journos scrambling for superlatives to describe it; until a ‘consultant’ decided it was time up, telling all and sundry it was time to go to bed. Now, you and I know that a journalist and his beer are never parted except when they surface for air. The crime was that this person actually ordered workers to pack ice cold beers away. What a travesty! Even Black Scorpion was appalled. The rule of the function is that you let the booze run out, you do not run the guests out.
I liked the tyre maker’s cocktail. My former employer always gets the formula right only that this time there was far much more Coke than pints. There the ever-so-cool Tshuks the HR man taught us all a new term for gatecrashers. They are now known as sympathisers. How cute!
The guys who supply us with timber and other building things missed the point of inviting people to sample their hospitality. You don’t hold people captive for hour on end to near starvation just to launch some product. Luckily, I sauntered I when the MC was conducting the draw when the cream of the crown were already turning in their sleep at home. Then I discovered the ruse. There was so little food and drink that even izibhonda (the destitute) would have complained. Marks out of ten? Zero!
The Coal-miners (never mind the fact that there is hardly any to throw at each other these days) did their best to monopolise me. I was literally embedded to their humble but imaginative pavilion which by the way won the best Zimbabwean exhibit prize, and to think that I had nothing to do with it. Winning the prize, I mean. I was being spoiled rotten by these guys for the second year running and it paid dividends for them to! I look forward to their scooping a couple more prizes next year.
I must admit that I did gatecrash at least one function, even though I was later to discover later that I had been invited after all. Here I was well and truly cornered in a corner. While the wise waters flowed to no end, I was put to task and found myself having to justify my column, its contents and my very existence. So much for being a celebrity; it has certain, eh, ‘uncomfortable’ responsibilities. Save to say that it was a truly enlightening experience, I found myself having to flee the excuse being that I had more pressing issues elsewhere.
On a more sobering note, haven’t we suffered enough already? We should at least get the service that we deserve from the money we fork out in taxes, service charges and purchases. The major problem is that Zimbabweans have perfected the art of celebrating mediocrity. We pay an arm and a leg and we get horse manure in return only for us to smile and say ‘Thank You very Much!’
I have experienced the worst kind of service delivery imaginable. The impression one gets is that you have to beg for the service you are paying for. Putting commuter omnibus crews aside (they have a unique disease those), we just have to stand up and fight this scourge. Where the heck is the Consumer Council? We deserve better for our hard earned money, even if it’s stolen. And this is how it should be; receive shoddy service, shift your business elsewhere. When was the last time you did that? Tell those people straight in the face that you will not brook ant nonsense and that you are leaving… with your money.
Commercial Banks, particularly the established ones, have long been playing Fiddley-Dee with our custom and money. Apart from outrageous bank charges and other equally despicable demands on small fry like us, we are lumped together at one branch like cattle in the name of rationalisation. One ever gets the feeling that they would be happy if we closed our accounts and shifted our cash into the pillows and gardens.
More culprits can be found polluting the hospitality industry at a time when they need every Zim dollar that blows their way. To some of them the word hospitality is just a decoration on their brochures. What justification is there to charge a glass of Coke Z$25! Unless the drink can sing the national anthem at my command, I see no plausible reason at all. Why kill the goose that lays the golden egg?
One of them, and I will not name names here said, ‘If we had time we would explain to the gentleman how we come to those prices he is moaning about!’ My foot! The solution I guess is to keep away or take our business to Maunga. At least he understands what customer care is all about more than some of these glorified shelters.
Why rob tourists of their foreign currency? The idea is to tease it from them, not daylight robbery! Charging Bulawayo tap water masquerading as bottled ‘Mineral Water’ for as much as US$20! Now that is my whole salary! When bottled water costs that much, do you expect the tourist to come back to buy more? Not on your life! In fact, you will be the one moaning about ‘negative publicity’ destroying your business, when the negativity originates at you very door!
Yes, it makes one’s blood boil! Customer care should be priority for any proprietor who wants to stay in business in these hard times. A customer who walks in from the pavement has to be given reason to choose on and spend his money. One customer lost through bad service translates into a horde when the word spreads. Make the customer feel important; kiss his feet (God forbid) if you can. And be rest assured he will be back.
This greed must stop. Some advice for the long suffering consumer: Make every cent that you spend count. Do not feel obliged to reward second rate (horse manure) service when you can get first class across the road for the same amount. Accept no excuses. Make you opinions about shoddy service known and loudly too, which is exactly what I am doing on this page.
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