9. BLURB • Title: “Inflicted Ponder” • Author: Elvis Mushonga • Genre: Fantasy • Language: English • Rating: +4 “Inflicted Ponder” is an authentic account of fantasy and real events synonymous with the dismal collapse of Zimbabwe’s political and socioeconomic walls. It is a story based on recollections of the glorious days that most natives can now only picture in ponder. The novel transparently highlights what is at the back of many Zimbabweans’ heads as they intend to take the beleaguered ruling government of theirs to the trash bin in 2023. It wishfully documents the impending arrival of a long-overdue post-independence revolution powered by a massive common sense of national purpose. In augmenting these near-fetched fantasies, the book touches on the visionary road map tailormade to arrive at this so-called ‘Promised land’ with the youthful, charismatic leader of the main opposition being regarded as ‘Moses’ in these reality-bound fantasy projections. “Inflicted Ponder” takes the readership through an eye-opening experience of the routine goings-on in most heads of Zimbabweans as they pity their state-orchestrated fall from glory as a nation of enviable repute. If there is a storyline that has the propensity to keep the reader glued to a book, then it is the one of “Inflicted Ponder.” Its plot is well structured to enable the reader to easily follow through the autobiographical connections in its informative sequence. The protagonist’s autobiographical point of view is a giveaway of part of the book author’s life. “Inflicted Ponder” is one of the few books you can ever find furnished with first and classified details of real events masked in fantasy. It is a story of divergent conflicts from national, partisan, in-house, mental to physical. A blend of informative and educative accounts that will leave the audience touched and empathetic with the citizens of a country with a center that is no longer holding. This book is all-ages friendly and inevitably absorbing.

BLURB Title: “Lone Errands” Author: Elvis Mushonga Genre: Fantasy/Romance Language: English Rating: +18 “Lone Errands” is an appealing and absorbing twenty first century Fantasy/Romance novel decorated with a non-sequential and intricate plot unveiling the blinkering power of exaggerated romance, the manipulative strength of wealth, the benefits of education, not omitting the culminations of calculated city crime. The endearing novel fluidly depicts conflicting and interesting moral connotations attached between love and hate, pleasure and pain, fantasy and reality, professionalism and vanity, hard work and privilege, as well as pride and humility. “Lone Errands” sensationally brings out retrospective and posthumous idiosyncrasies through an assertive proliferation of romantic and traumatic recollections concocted with a heavy dosage of statergised corruption in elite circles, where exoneration often triumphs over prosecution. The readership is poised to fathom protagonist Anable’s sophisticated romantic maze synonymous with secretive gold-digging and egocentric indulgence. She is portrayed as an adamant survivor of a barrage of onslaughts engendered by destiny and self-driven subjectivity. The irresistible and solo-going Anable plays a hyperbole-powered role that sees atonement overcoming her egoistic intransigency. The anti-climax plotted novel’s comic and touching resolution has the propensity to make people wake up to the reality that all roads eventually lead back home. Yes! After all the chicken like skits, there comes a time to roost.

“THE DREADLOCKED BARBER” By Harry Elvis Mushonga CHAPTER 1 The clock had struck half past eight in the evening, like on a daily basis, Thompson had to close his barber shop and make for his home which was situated 5km from his business point. He took into his Toyota Cressida and left the Greenstone shopping mall in haste as his vintage but well-oiled machine screamed off into invisibility with a speed that left all onlookers wondering whether there was really any need to fly to a destination that was just about 3 miles away. Thompson never believed in hanging around friends, he felt that it was merely a wastage of time to socialize for the sake of time passing, the only person whom he would give a fraction of his stingy time to was Gregory, a fellow dreadlocked gentleman who was working as a bank teller just a couple of yards from Jody’s Complex where his action packed saloon was housed. On that day, he had taken off with him since they resided in the same neighbourhood of Slaughterville. On countless occasions Jody would depart Greenstone shopping mall late. He loved his cold ones so much that it would be bizarre for him to leave for his home at 4 pm upon knocking off at Farmers Bank where he was respected for not only his envious diligence and punctuality, but also his honesty and outstanding public relations. It is the latter trait that made him friends with the not-so-friendly Thompson. He was a perfect example of an allegiant professional. On that day like many a times, he had checked into the Centre Bar to have one or two glasses of his favourite scotch whisky and was interrupted from his heartily after work habit by Thompson who was hurrying to fulfill one of his well concealed escapades. He dashed into the Centre bar, gave Gregory a pat on the back before hauling, “let’s vacate man.” He threw some Rands onto the counter and requested for a bottle of his favourite wine and had to insist on timeous service from the sexy and rowdy bartender called Anisha. “Time is money Anisha, I’m in a hurry baby girl.” Anisha had to render him quick service on the pretext of knowing that he was devoid of patience whenever he enters the bar either during times like these, or his business hours when he bumps in to get a drink or some cash change for his saloon clients. After receiving his merchandise he never wasted any more time on Gregory who had to gulp his half glass of Scotch whisky and follow his rushing friend to the Cressida. A few seconds later what could be heard is the frivolous raving of the vehicle veering off the shopping mall, a phenomenon not strange at all to all those who knew of Thompson’s steering shenanigans. The car suddenly vanished from sight and all that could be heard was its fading groaning sound as it drifted further. On the slaughter menu that very day was a very beautiful stout, light complexioned lady of average height who had checked into the saloon for the very first time to plant artificial dreadlocks. Thompson had to do it himself since he was teaming up with Lisa to braid the vocal Miss Rue, a regular customer of theirs who had insisted on urgent service since she wanted to catch a flight to Dubai where her daughter was working and residing later during the day. Upon seeing the juicy and sexy Lydia stepping in, like always Thompson did not take time to exhibit his instinctive courtesy by warmly welcoming her and ushering her in the direction of the style pin ups that illuminated the scintillating walls of the saloon. The price list of the various hair style services that Thompson Health & Beauty were doing was attached adjacent to the counter so that it is visibly vivid to anyone who walks in to inquire. He had to urgently attend to his new customer brushing aside the outspoken Miss Rue who was beginning to register her impatience owing to a tight schedule. “You are left with just a small part dear, Lisa will finish you off now.” He was very good at convincing his clients to calm down whenever such contentious circumstances crop up, and Miss Rue being used to such developments could not take her complaint further. Apart from being given to clandestine operations, immoral contrabands and indulgent innuendos, Thompson was a master of his trade, he would complete a full head in no time, be it plaiting, dreadlocks planting or crocheting with keen passion. He was very good at public relations, but he never took most of the acquaintances he made with male clients into friendship. Everything was strictly confined to business as long as it was in connection with males. Ironically, Thompson never got off the tails of ladies of his intimate taste. He would strike with the speed of lightning. His uncle Davies whom he resided with always wondered whether Thompson was possessed with a spirit of womanizing, or used magical charms to lure his serial sex targets to bed. Thompson was a sex predator, not so many women would resist his lust flirtations, and the saloon became a very lucrative space