Only a matter of friendship

Have you heard the song that has hit town lately? It's about two of my neighbours, or rather, two of my neighbouring families. You see, they are on the best of terms. Two friendly couples living happily side by side. Mr. Makosa is friendly with Mr. Saimba and Mrs. Saimba is friendly with Mrs. Makosa and there is a general air of warmth all around. If any of the woman is late home for any reason, she can generally rely on the other to look after her children and the men, in the age old manner of their sex, often go off boozing together and then stagger home in a state of drunken bonhomie.

On Sundays they all go to church together, donning their best duds, sprucing up their offspring and repair to the house of God to offer praise for the good they have received. The two husbands are deacons and As for the wives, Mrs. Saimba is the Sunday school teacher and Mrs. Makosa is a prominent member of the Dorcas Ladies Group. Pillars of society, if you must ask me. Every one of the local sinners looked up to them and hoped to one day be as good. But they were only young families you see, at the very beginning of their young lives and they had to work hard and long for their living. Mr. Saimba worked as a teacher in the city, and from time to time would augment his salary with a column or two placed in a local newspaper.

Nothing much to talk about, but it allowed his family a luxury here and there. Amerry old soul he was - and a dear spot in the hearts of all his neighbours. His job afforded him the chance to be with his young children as well as being a helping hand to his neighbours, which he really did not mind. Everyone loved him and he loved everyone. There was not a house to which he was not welcome. Mrs. Saimba on the other hand, was a nurse - clean and solid and reliable, no more and no less. She would go about her work as if the world would come to an end if she did not do it, which, in her trade, was often true, poor soul. She was prim and economical with her time. Of all the people in our neighbourhood, she was the only one who did not see anything funny in her husband's jokes.

She would wake up before dawn to polish her floors until they shone like glass. Then she would expect them to stay that way until the next morning, even if it meant banishing her own children to play in the streets o anywhere else they chose. If she came home to find so much as a toe print on her immaculate floor there would be hell to pay. Even Mr. Saimba, who could charm the pants off everyone in the neighbourhood, could find nothing to say on these occasions. Mrs. Saimba's temper was a phenomenal thing. Coming to the other family: Mr. Makosa was a long distance lorry driver. He would be gone for days at an end, ferrying whatever his employers chose to ferry from one end of the country to the other. But he was a good husband for all that and would go home every time he did not have to be on the wheel. Without failure, he would bring a little gift for his wife, for which he never failed to get a loving smile in return. However, loving as Mr. Makosa was, he was away from home a great deal, and this proved a sore trial for Mrs. Makosa.

Where Mr. Makosa was beefy and hearty, Mrs. Makosa was a soft, round little creature who was as cheerful as the sun itself. Her heart was as open as the wide-open veldt and she never failed to be generous and kind when the occasion called for it. Mrs. Makosa might have cleaned her floors with perhaps less vigour than Mrs. Saimba, but she did it with just as much love. But then she loved everything and everyone and she did not seem to care if they were soon marred by dirty footsteps. In fact, it would have bothered her more if, by the end of the day, the floors were still clean. She thrived on people and lived her dear little life out just in order to spread her warmth to the. Cuddly and always smelling of food, she was always at home and she welcomed everyone into her house. Her neghbours were welcome to come in any time they wished and she was always surrounded by children - Mrs. Samba's as well as her own. The old neighbourhood was all the happier because of her presence.

For years, the two families lived happily side by side - sharing happy evenings in the Makosa living room, going to church together, the men going off to get drunk together and the children playing together in the street. However, the essence of life is change and this soon manifested itself in the form of Mrs. Samba's promotion. Where, before she had been a mere nurse, she found herself suddenly capitulated into the high post of Matron in Charge. Her new salary was more than three times her old one and definitely much hire than that of poor, cheerful old Saimba. Now they could afford all the good things they had ever dreamt of owning, without having to worry where the school fees were going to come from. That was on the upside. The downside of it was that she had to spend more and more of her time at the hospital. Because of it, she had even less time to clean her precious floors and this made her even stricter about who placed their dirty feet on it. Poor Mr. Saimba received such harsh talkings to about it that he began to feel edgy each time he had to go home. Quite often he delayed his own homecoming so that he could keep his dirty feet of the gleaming floors. But then there were the children. With the wife at work he had to get them their meals.

The Saimba children were not much better of. They knew about their mother's fanatic cleanliness and they had just as much fear of dirtying the floors as their father. That is how it happened that when they got home to find that their father was not there, they would not get inside, but would sidle instead to the Makosa home, where the sunny little lady was always ready with smiles and food. Mr. Saimba, arriving at home to find his offspring happily ensconced in Mrs. Makosa's home, found it the most natural thing to simply join the crowd. Soon the two families were practically living in that one house, while the elegant one next door was left primarily for sleeping in and even then, the young Saimbas would often rebel. The situation was not improved when hearty, beefy Mr. Makosa was changed to an international route. That meant that he would be gone for weeks at a time. There they were - jovial, energetic Mr. Saimba alone in a rambling house in which the motto was, "Don't-dirt the floor!" and comfortable little Mrs. Makosa alone in hers without knowing when her husband would be able to find his way home.

Soft little Mrs. Makosa, who relied so much on Mr. Makosa's hearty warmth had no one by her except the children. What was left for her to do but to hug those about her closer to herself? Oh, the amount of comfort she drew from merry Mr. Saimba! And later, when the kids had been carted off to bed, the two lonely elders were left to pass the dull hours together and soon a cozy little friendship developed, the depths of which only the roaches and the mice and other little creatures of the dark can verify. Suddenly Mrs. Makosa's soft little heart was filled with laughter again, and she could trust Mr. Saimba to bring her a sweet little present now and again. It was a time for gladness indeed, and the two friends could hardly wait until the children had repaired to their beds. It was a joyful time indeed. That is how it happened that one quiet evening, after the children had been put to bed, Mr. Saimba dipped hiss hand in his pocket and bought out a daintily wrapped little present. Heart pounding with delight, Mrs. Makosa tremblingly accepted it. The she tore off the dainty wrapper to reveal the lacy little unspeakables concealed beneath. "Oh, my darling!" she breathed, "My sweet darling, how thoughtful of you!"

Her pretty eyes opened wide with pleasure and she was about to throw her arms around this thoughtful gentleman when suddenly the door opened and in stepped Mr. Makosa himself, large as life. It would have been a disaster indeed, but for that good lady's quick thinking. The eyes, a moment ago open in delight, now reflected only horror. The smile changed into a sneer and the hands, raised to deliver a tender hug, now came down in a sharp double slap. Her attack was so sudden that he reacted with genuine shock, raising his hands to his smarting face and looking at her with stricken eyes. "How dare you!" demanded that worthy dame, her eyes now blazing, "What do you think I am?" Mr. Makosa was surprised to see his soft kitten in such a fury, and his glib friend at such a total loss. Surely there must be some mistake. "Now, now," he said in his good humoured, bluff voice, "What is the trouble?"

Mr. Saimba, taking in the situation, recovered quickly and acted out his part to a fine turn. Turning hurt, humiliated eyes to his friend, he stammered out how he had heard her child mention that it was her mother's birthday. Wanting to thank her for the help she had given him with the children, he had rushed off and bought her one of those mystery wrapped presents. How was he to know what was inside. "I just thought…" he trailed off, as if unsure how to finish. "Just thought, eh?" screeched the lady in question, throwing the frothy white lace into his face. Poor, poor Saimba, Makosa thought, so goodnatured and so intelligent, but not so wise in the ways of the world! How could he have guessed that such a simple act of good will could produce such a bad reaction? It was fortunate that he had arrived just in time to control whist could have turned into an explosive situation.

Finding the case too hilarious for words, he released his loud, hearty laugh and in a moment the outraged lady rounded upon him, "and you can just pipe down, do you hear me? And go back where you came from. I am not going to be treated this way in my own house!" Solicitously, Makosa put an arm around his friend's shoulders and led the apparently confused man outside. "Look," he said kindly, but still with a bit of laughter, "It was very thoughtful of you to offer the good lady a present. But you know what sensitive creatures these women can be. You need to watch every action, every word. For instance in this case, you should have found out what was in the pack before you ventured to hand it to her. But next time I think a bible would be just right. She is a virtuous little thing and she enjoys the good book a good deal."

Still acting his part, Saimba nodded dumbly and repaired to his digs, while Makosa went back into the house to smooth his wife's ruffled feathers. "Come dear," he laughed at her, "you know the poor man did not mean any harm. Besides, I dare say they are a lovely set!" Upon which the lovely lady saw it fit to let loose her fist at him, laughing also. In that mood the two old lovers repaired to bed, him carrying the little mass of white froth, the better to tease her with. Need I mention that it is still in her wardrobe to this day? Makosa has never seen her wearing it, I wonder who has.