Twenty six years ago, I stood in almost the same spot. Cush, still reasonably fresh out of university, graduating top of his engineering class, summer come whatever whatever and still in the binoculars of the ‘head hunters’ in Anglo American etc. was offered several jobs. One of them was in finance, stock market, computer programming and right down his street.
On the rare occasions depression hits me, I wonder if I made the wrong decision back then, that September, twenty six years ago.
This morning, stationary in traffic on the N1, I was absolutely certain…
We were offered a huge salary, a BMW and a house in Randburg, not far from where I now stand. Straight from the bush, a BMW meant no more to me than the CIA or NSSA. Just an alphabet sequence. I do remember looking about me and wondering who on earth would want to live here. Where would I keep all my animals? And the noise? How could I get away from that? And of course: the people. How do you get away from people in Johannesburg?
Remember also, it was still the old South Africa, and I am a Zimboe through and through. So we smiled politely and went back to the life we both wanted.
So with nothing to do this morning, except watch the red brake-lights on the car ahead of me, I wondered how different I would have been, had we made the other choice. How quickly would I have tucked into the malls, the shopping centres. I would have driven a sports car, that is for certain, I’m a speed freak. How quickly would I have learned to have my nails done, facials, had affairs? How quickly would I have become someone I despise?
Well, we all make choices. I chose to drive a landrover, cos it is so slow I cant thrill-kill myself. I go to one shopping centre (because Bulawayo only has a few!) I have yet to have a facial.