MY THOUGHTS ON SUNDAY with CHARLES CHISALA
SOME time last year I wrote under this very column about the bad habit of shouting when talking on a mobile phone in public places, especially on public passenger buses.
I have seen that some of you have changed and have since been using your phones in a more civilised manner.
But I have some serious business to settle with those who have turned mini buses into dining rooms or restaurants.
In English there is what is called etiquette. This is simply a set of customs and rules for polite behaviour in the presence of or towards other people.
Etiquette becomes even more important when you are in the presence of strangers or people who are not closely related to you.
Of course I am not saying that you should not eat when you are away from home. You have every right to eat whatever you wish any time. It is the place where you do the eating that matters.
Some people feel offended to see someone they are not familiar with eating in their presence in a public place.
I have been using public transport for some days now after the road tax, certificate of fitness and insurance of my vehicle expired at the same time.
While travelling on these small Toyota Hiace public passenger buses, which we used to call utubafwa (bathtubs) in Kitwe, to and from Lusaka West, I have had the misfortune of sitting next to some ‘free eating’ passengers.
One day I boarded one of those blue-and-white contraptions, most of which are actually delivery panel vans modified to carry passengers. I sat next to a man who was on the left end of the improvised seat.
He was sitting next to the window and perspiring profusely despite the weather being relatively cool that particular afternoon.
After sliding the window, he called a hawker who was carrying assorted merchandise on his shoulder. The man asked the hawker the price of Tango drink. After hearing the price and judging that it was affordable, he fished out a Kwacha note and proffered it to the peddler for a bottle.
By then the bus had already joined Mumbwa road and was heading towards Garden House. Four of us were squeezed on a seat meant for three people, so the man had some difficulty handling the drink.
After managing to remove the cap from the bottle, he threw back his head and started gulping down its green contents as if his life depended on them. As the drink made its way down his throat, it produced audible rumbling sounds.
The man’s throat moved up and down as he swallowed the liquid. I noticed that some people were watching him with growing interest. A number of the passengers were far from amused and were mumbling and murmuring in disapproval.
Unaware of the attention he was attracting from the other passengers, the man even closed his eyes as he sucked at the bottle like an infant. I realised that he was not just quenching thirst. He had been starving.
By the time the bus was moving past Keembe Meats, the bottle was as empty as if it had never contained anything. There were conspiratorial smiles and grins on the faces of the ‘spectators’.
The bus conductor, who had also been keenly watching the man, complimented him for the amazing speed with which he had emptied the bottle, triggering giggles and laughter across the bus.
At the first Engen filling station, the driver made a stop-over to refuel. Again the man called a hawker and bought a fat cream doughnut. There were chuckles and not few giggles as the other passengers anticipated yet another ‘feast’.
After pulling back the plastic wrapper, he eyed the doughnut hungrily as if it was a living thing before digging his yellow teeth into the brown delicacy. The way he devoured the poor thing, you would think he had not had a meal for weeks!
The munch, munch, chaku chaku, kubyu, kubyu could be heard three seats away as lump after whole lump of the doughnut raced down his overworked throat. I have not seen a person enjoy a doughnut like that in years, I can assure you.
After wolfing down the last chunk, which almost choked him to the amusement of the spectators, the unperturbed ‘diner’ launched into the concluding course of his ‘meal’; he started licking his fingers to ensure no smudge of the sweet cream escaped his roving tongue.
He then sighed gratefully.
From the corner of my eye, I spied out a tear of appreciation rolling down his left cheek without his knowledge. He must have been hungry indeed!
After he had disembarked from the bus at the White Wall Fence stop, the man became the topic of a lively discussion.
“As if his wife does not feed him at home,” one woman said, clapping her hands in indignation. There was a chorus of support from the other women.
But one man protested. He said the mobile ‘diner’ should be forgiven because he must have been very hungry.
The women did not agree with him. By the time I was disembarking from the bus, the debate was still raging.
Two days later, I was in for yet another eating spectacle on another mini bus. The source of the entertainment was a woman on the front seat-probably a marketeer from Soweto Market. she was clutching a bulging Ukwa bag in her arms.
As the bus cruised past Zamanita, she thrust a hand into the bag and ‘fished’ out a big smoked sausage. She then ‘attacked’ it viciously as if it had offended her. Four good bites were enough to end the show!
The woman had been so engrossed in her little ‘feast’ that she had missed all the angry looks and frowns of disapproval on the faces of her fellow passengers, especially fellow women.
After swallowing the last piece of the sausage and licking her lips in appreciation like a satisfied lioness after a kill, her right hand disappeared into the Ukwa bag again. This time around, the ‘prize’ was a huge fritter almost the size of my fist.
The woman deftly transferred the fritter to her left hand and, without scruples, pinched off a generous portion with her right hand and literally threw it into the back of her mouth.
In no time she was rubbing her oily hands together. It was over! I saw a couple of heads shaking in disbelief.
Do you also eat in public like that without any shame?
Comments: charles_chisala@yahoo.com
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Eating In Public’s Bad Manners, Please!
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