Friends

Friends,

I will be travelling to the land where it means nothing to be a millionaire, a land where, if inflation was a dollar figure, you would be rich. In the next few weeks, I will be updating you on the daily life in Zimbabwe.

But before I even depart, strange things are beginning to happen. As is the norm, when people know I am coming home, they send in their requests for me to bring them all kinds of things from shoes, base ball hats, to perfumes. Never mind the fact that I do not have the money to buy everyone these things; people at home think American streets are littered with greenbacks and everyone who sets foot on this soil becomes rich. So, supposedly, I am a very rich man! Being the rich man that I am, requests for this and that, even from long lost friends, are flooding my inbox. But, the strange thing is that a good number of these requests are things I would have never dreamt that people would ask me to bring them from the land of the free. I can handle requests for perfumes, but believe me, I got a request for toothpaste the other day. Someone even asked me for that precious grain-sugar!

So, in the next few weeks, a rich man will be writting his diary and if you have time, read it.

Wish me luck