...I have - or rather had - cousins in Zimbabwe. They fled their homeland some ten years ago in fear for their livelihoods and their lives. Descendants of white settlers perhaps, but generations of farmers dedicated to making the country what it once was - the breadbasket of the African South.
There is too much horror in that land right now to laugh - yet how can one not laugh at this:
A family is to bury a darling Uncle. The funeral parlour tells the family that it cannot give an estimate of the cost as inflation is so out of control. The family agree to take a price on spec - they, after all, have an obligation to the revered and cherished dead man.
At the gates of the crematorium the cortege is met by the funeral director, who tells them that the cost of the ceremony is to be Z$ 1.5m (about ten shillings - all right I exaggerate the exchange rate, but not by much). The family agree and the funeral service is held.
As the grieving family leaves, the same funeral director comes to tell them that, regrettably, whilst they were inside the Banks have announced a new rise in prices and that, therefore, he must charge them an extra Z$ 0.5m.
What can they - and we - do but laugh and pray for better times?
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