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Zimbabwe: 'The Raincoat'
Munyaradzi Makoni
September 19, 2006

http://www.africa-interactive.net/index.php?PageID=1710

Redcliff, Zimbabwe. Tear the small pack from the edge. A strong romantic perfume greets your nostrils. Take out the rubber sheath by its neck. Slowly, lovingly and gingerly roll it down the shaft. Make sure you slide it on the correct side. Don-t dare touch its body either, let it get contaminated before it gets the job done. That was it, a mere demonstration how to wear a condom had frozen everyone for a moment. Nobody cared about following the agenda on the timetable any longer.

The conference room reverberated with laughter. All the lurid jokes one can imagine when journalists who are never short of imagination meet as a group were traded. Aunty Linda, a counsellor, held the replica of manhood about 17cm long firmly in her hand. She was delicately and smoothly dressing it a condom. We ululated, shouted and whistled. Well, she wore a serious face. I don-t know what else she could have done. I was among the first ones to naughtily scream, Viva Mudhara, loosely translated to mean hail the old man who gets the job done. My colleagues also followed with their versions.

Live demonstations
One guy was really taken back. He offered himself for live demonstrations. Aunty Linda shrugged her shoulders. Another journalist was more concerned with Aunty Linda giving free lessons to his girlfriend. "How much do you charge for private lessons?" We all burst out laughing. "The problem with you journalists is you ask things that you already know," said Aunty Linda and a lady this time quipped, "Because we know there are always new answers." Aunty Linda continued with her art. "Make sure it covers the whole part of your manhood don-t leave it half way because that might give passage to the virus," added aunty Linda avoiding semantics of buying and selling skills of condom wearing. It was amazing how dirty jokes could help people drown in unforgettable education. The occasion could actually pass for an adult class for sex education. It was indeed an adult class for safe sex.

One guy who had been dozing the whole day, certainly suffering from a prolonged hangover suddenly sprung to life. "I want to demonstrate on how to expertly wear the 'raincoat-." Being one of those who never give others a chance to speak for progress- sake he was quickly given an opportunity.But, when it came to women-s turn to show us what they had just learnt or more precisely how they would do it, they were completely shy. I think I knew what was the reason, whoever was bold enough to display her ability was going to be the butt of jokes for the rest of the workshop. Worse still they feared being nicknamed, the 'Condom Ladies.- "It was only fair that during the Zimbabwe Union of Journalists annual general meeting we talk about HIV/Aids. It is one of the cankers in our midst," said Mathew Takaona, the president of the union. About 38 journalists were gathered in the small scenic iron-making town of Redcliff to map their way forward in the next three years.

Dangers of HIV and Aids
It became significant that as journalists learnt and remembered about the dangers of HIV and Aids the news in the largest government daily, The Herald was encouraging. Aids prevalence in Zimbabwe had further gone down. But some of us being sceptics a hot argument ensued. How genuine were the figures? If it were a pub, definitely some people could have lost their teeth. National Aids Council, a government arm that polices Aids funds and Aids service organisations, official, tried her best to convince some doubting Thomases that, United Nations would never accept cooked figures. But as individuals we only agreed to disagree on the subject and suspended the story for another day.

But the ladies in the room were not happy. One could see the sour looks on their faces. Even the way they were breathing one could sense something had terribly gone wrong. "Where was the femidom?"
As we fumbled for answers we were quickly told, a contingent of officers from the Zimbabwe National Family Planning Council would gladly grace the meeting to talk about it. Indeed, it was not a false promise. A motherly figure counsellor, Aunty Mahembe was the toast of the following morning.

Closed eyes
We were divided into two groups some were given wrapped sweets to eat and others vice versa. Except for the sound of the air condition machines we chewed the sweets slowly and silently with closed eyes for almost two minutes. How do they taste she ventured to ask? Having eaten the one with a paper I told her that it took long to enjoy the sweetness. She smiled coolly: "Yes, you must eat it without wrappers when you know, she is faithful. "I am faithful to three women," another gentlemen, the only one wearing a jacket and tie, among slacks and jeans yelled. She turned her face in the direction of the voice with glowing eyes and said nothing. "What about those who ate the naked ones," she asked other journalists. "It was very sweet. The sweetness was quick and piercing," one of the participants, said. "That-s what happens when you use condoms, the enjoyment lasts longer." She said. "Hahaha! We want it quick, why delay the show," someone shouted from the floor." "It-s for your safety," she said distributing crispy packets of female condoms; one could mistake them for chocolates. "Women must insert this eight hours before the act so that it fits snugly into the shape of the body," she said lifting a shapeless small sack with rings at both ends.

It was difficult to fathom how one could enjoy themselves using such an ugly thing. No wonder at some stage it was very unpopular with both sexes in Zimbabwe. But, I was shocked to learn that unscrupulous commercial sex workers could use it more than once in a rush to clear the queue of clients. It-s not surprising though in a country where hardships have turned people into heartless selfish mongers. There were no demonstrations this time but the session was not short of questions. "Since we can not trust commercial sex workers is there any problem if I can use a condom while she is also wearing one," I was worried. "No! Only one gumboot at a time, friction causes them to tear off so it-s even more risky," Aunty Mahembe explained. "What about some of us who prefer to use their mouths," our drunk colleague whose body complained of too much alcohol abuse paused that one. "There has been a talk of someone trying to invent a mouth condom, certainly if that happens people like you would celebrate"

Condom
We chuckled, how would one wear a condom on the lips. I tried to visualize how it would work but I only saw people suffocating. Despite promising us a cocktail party at the end of the meeting, the burly mayor of the city hosting Rodgers Chisi, made sure that we would not vanish without tasting a dose of his wisdom. "Honourable people listen. We don-t desire the viruses you have in your bodies. Neither do we crave you to tap what is in our systems but just remembering this slogan helps -Men wrap it around your waist - Women cover it with cow dung." Once more both men and women were attacked with fits of laughter.

"If I can-t stand the heat what should I do," I asked the mayor? Before he could utter a word, someone saved him the problem. Darling, please wear the raincoat." The mischief in the voice was all too clear to say it all. I was asking what other people already knew or they were already in the mood of the cocktail party.

*Munyaradzi Makoni is a Zimbabwean journalist.

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