Posted in Fiction

Harare’s Matchmaker

I often get asked how I became a matchmaker .It wasn’t something that I dreamed about when I was burning the midnight oil at NUST trying to get that computer science degree and it definitely wasn’t what my parents had in mind when they sold half of their kraal to take me to university .I didn’t even know I could become a matchmaker -black people don’t play cupid and neither do we care about finding love online .When the natural process fails we start hitting the church shrines or sangoma’s .

I didn’t know I could become a matchmaker until a year ago.I was just an unemployed ,broke and very nosy young woman living in the concrete jungle that is Harare .I was not born an expert  on love and neither did I have the connections  to make it in this big city .I was born twenty five years ago to a cattle man Jonasi and Chipo the village sangoma and midwife . One would have thought that being born to a sangoma was a rite of passage to a smooth ride through life after all sangoma’s can see the future and anticipate doom a mile away .

I hate to break your heart but my mother never saw anything about my life maybe because i didn’t believe in her beliefs .My mother’s career choice was something I never talked about -imagine the eye rolls and the whispers I would receive and with my chosen career path where people expect me to link them to their future mates ,i just couldn’t talk about it .

She often calls me to chat about life in the big city and I often lie to her like the good child I am (our mothers don’t need to worry ). I work for Zim Connection,the largest matchmaking  site in Harare and my boss is a middle aged man that has been married six times and is currently married to wife number 7  . Our office has 5 employees and none of us are in stable relationships or remotely close to the word dating . We play cupid for a living and yet we can’t find ,bag and marry our own -so I thought before he showed up …….




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