March 26

It's one of those mornings that's starts off all peaceful and slow and suddenly spins out of control.  I begin to get all these messages that certain shops will be closing and from now on will only do orders.  Online shopping doesn't really exist in Zimbabwe; it's a case of we'll put your order in a box and you come and fetch it.  I have many reservations about this, one of the biggest being that there is always a shortage of something and so, whilst it may appear on the shop's list of available groceries there is a good chance there will come a message: Sorry, we're out of that. And we're out of that, too.  Yep, that too.  If I pay for something and it doesn't arrive, how will this work out with the shop?  We have to all admit that customer service is virtually non-existent in Zimbabwe and so chances are that refunds for non-existent items will also be non-existent.

My other concern is that there are so many people for whom ordering 'online', which really means just choosing things from a list, may be difficult.  The elderly are an example of this.  I send a message to a couple of my older friends and ask if they want shopping done.  Then we zoot off to the shops ourselves and buy a few necessities such as pirated DVDs and hot cross buns.  In Pick n Pay, there are markers on the floor leading to the tills, each a metre apart and customers are asked to stand behind them when queuing, but no one does.  Everyone is in their usual heap, despite wearing masks and gloves.

There's definitely fear in the air: it's in the bottles of disinfectant on shop counters and the masks that make everyone look eerily faceless and suggest the anonymity of disease and germs and hospitals and death.  It's in the way people seem to hurry themselves a little more as though an invading army is approaching the city; it's in the way they pile up trolleys and boxes and boots of cars; the way car windows are wound up and shop door closed and notices have popped up.  Closed Tomorrow.  Closed From Friday. Closed Until Further Notice.