When queuing became a pastime

ONE thing we Zimbabweans miss about the days when the bottom fell out of our economy are the queues. The country broke every conceivable record even that of the legendary Weimer Republic leading!

We had to queue just about for everything because things were scarce. When one encountered a queue, you never asked what it was for because it was obviously for an item that had disappeared from the shelves. Be it sugar, bread, salt, matches, gas – nothing could be obtained without queuing.

A lot of production time was lost in hunting for scarce goods or simply queuing. Did I say production time? There was hardly any economic activity taking place in the country anyway. So bad was the situation that the government even announced that it would crack down on professional ‘queuers.’ These were blamed for the emergence of a black market in scant grocery items and were labelled economic saboteurs by a subservient state media which was never short of nasty titles for perceived enemies of progress.

As queuing became part of the culture, some unwritten ground rules emerged. This ‘queue-tiquette’ was a form of survival guide that one had to follow if they had hope of ever getting anything, let alone surviving. One’s chances ranged from slim to none unless one was a member of the uniformed forces (for obvious reasons), or you dutifully stuck to the ‘rules.’ In case your own country fell into the same cesspit we dug ourselves from, here are tips on surviving a queue referred to below as the Q. Let us call it the psychology of the Q.

It was mandatory that you be friendly. It was always advisable to greet the person at the end of the Q. One had to resist the urge to immediately ask what the Q was for. The advice was to catch your breath first, and then say, “So when is the supply of sugar coming?” This is called fishing. They will look at you and if you were lucky, give you two liners to your question. “This is the bread Q. They said they will begin selling at 10 o’clock”. If it’s 7 o’clock, you decide whether it will be worth it to stay in the bread queue or maybe you do not have the three hours to kill, or alternatively you starved.

Drinking lots of water before joining a Q was not advisable. You would lose your place when you left temporarily to answer the call of nature, worse still if you happened to have bladder problems. Often, chaos would reign when you tried to reclaim your place and the Q had to be re-ordered, usually with brute force by overzealous riot police. It is advisable that you eat a couple bananas (which were abundant then at Z$20,000 each!) instead. That way, there would be no urge to go either for the number 1 or number 2 calls of nature.

Never discuss politics in a Q. These are strangers, and you dared not divulge your political opinions by complaining. Talk was in general terms about “our government”, so never, ever mention names for any reason. Talk about the coming rains, the harsh winter, anything else. We went by the motto: “If you have you have nothing to say, please do not say it here!”

Being aware of toxic emissions (bad breath) from the guy behind you in the Q was critical, since toothpaste and expensive mouthwashes had fallen from the “essentials” list in those days. When one’s priority was fending for a hungry brood, issues of oral hygiene became blasé. People no longer used toothpaste because it simply wasn’t there! The solution was to angle one’s head sideways and downwards, so as not to be in the line of fire of any of the halitosis.

If one would rather not talk in a Q, clutching the jaw to indicate a tooth ache or sore gums or mouth sores or better still a sore throat would do the trick.

If the person in front of you in the Q happened to be a lady, it was wise for the sake of one’s health and welfare to leave a discreet gap between the two of you. You are advised not to get too animated in any conversation with her, lest her husband is not the least jealous person in the world. Showing public respect and, depending on her age, addressing her as “granny”, would probably prevent the following from happening:

a. She could look at you accusingly and speak loud enough for all to hear that you are, eh, standing too close to her. That could be a death sentence with any hungry and angry crowd particularly in a Q.

b. The husband could be a few places behind you in the same Q and would be none too pleased to see you sneaking some precious warmth from his wife … especially if he were the bodybuilding kind.

c. Before you knew it, you would be walking away from the Q with your precious loaf of bread plus an unplanned for “small house” (read girlfriend). Some of our sisters really got desperate in those days.

Pushing and shoving in the Q would not lead to a reduction in waiting time by any measure. It would only serve to annoy the person in front of you and create the inevitable chaos that could lead to the queue being dispersed. And this happened very often when members of the uniformed forces felt that order worked against them getting the extra loaf.

If you were a student, carrying voluminous literature or text books would ensure that one used the time in a Q productively. This also discouraged nosy people from starting pointless conversations with you. A simple, “I am writing my O’ Level exams this year and I don’t have time to waste” would sure fob them off.

Always approaching the Q from the rear, not midway or the front, is another handy tip. Or else all those bored individuals would suddenly find a welcome subject of verbal abuse since your move could be misconstrued for ‘cutting in’. In fact, since entertainment was scarce, you ran the danger of being the talk of the town, for the wrong reasons too.

Once you got what you were so agonisingly waiting for in a Q, walking away briskly and with purpose would ensure you did not become a crime statistic. Muggings for food were common as desperados took a seemingly easy way out of hunger, or so they thought.

One should also acknowledge that queues became venues where people could socialise short of the barbecues and shebeens that previously were a sign of the good times. Conversations would begin with the phrase; “While I was at the fuel queue …” as a way of showing off that one could afford to purchase whatever was scarce. Indeed some had become veritable show-offs as a result.

One cannot deny the fact that many a relationship developed out of the queue. Some found future wives, business acquaintances, friends or victims. And in case you thought such things could only happen in Zimbabwe, take my advice. You could well be next!