Caveman's guide to living without electricity

Now that Zimbabwe's power supplier, Zesa, has announced a tough schedule of power cuts, we must look to the caveman of old for guidance through the darkness.
The Zesa schedule could mean some households having power for only four hours a day, between 5pm and 9pm. We had becomes so accustomed to electricity it’s become impossible to imagine life without switches and remote control buttons.
But this is Zanu PF's crooked idea of a modern Zimbabwe; they will turn back the hands of modernity if they think the world would then leave Zim alone.
So, we must look to our ancestors for tips on surviving without power.
First, the water. This week, large parts of Harare had no water after some wise guy cut off power to Morton Jaffray water works. A timely warning that while we sacrifice modern life for three months to water our wheat, taps will run dry
So if you cannot afford a water tank – or any of that tap water the stores shamefully pass off as mineral water to naïve customers – then it’s down to the river for you, just like in the dark ages. Picture them, hordes of office workers, towels in one hand and brown soap in the other, emerging cleansed from the Mukuvisi River like Hindu pilgrims out of the Ganges.
The clever ones – the ones busy digging wells in the backyard while you waste time reading this shit – who would have water around the home when the Armageddon hits, would still have to get by with candlelit baths and toilet-by-candlelight.
And if you are still around when the shit hits the fan, then it’s too late to throw the kids into the back seat and attempt an escape. Chances are petrol pumps have gone blank, and your usual dissident supplier down at the gum-trees has also run dry and is slyly diluting his remaining fuel with oily river water.
Scotchcarts - whose prices account for a large part of our official inflation figures if you ask the government - would have been an option. But vehicles drawn by livestock are no longer allowed on our civilised roads.
So, if your family must travel, you walk. All in line - kids at the back, Mommy second with the baby on her back and a bundle on her head, and Daddy leading up front, carrying nothing but his knobkerrie, just like in the dark ages before women’s suffrage.
And then there is entertainment. Many take it for granted that they will get home today, curl up on the sofa under a lamp with today's paper, or reach for the remote, flick on the TV, and switch between News Hour and today’s installment of Desperate Housewives. Don’t be so sure.
For those that love “going out”, the restaurants and clubs are bound to run out of diesel for generators. So it’s back to biras, all night boogies round a huge fire, just like in the dark ages.
And then there’s that crucial area - food. Experts advise to keep the fridge shut during power outages; that way, food can remain frozen for days. But this is three months, remember, so forget the fridge.
There’s an entire generation of dumb city slickers that thinks milk comes from Bon Marché or Spar. Newsflash. The white stuff actually comes from cows. Remember the Waterfalls woman found with a cow in the bedroom during Murambatsvina? She doesn’t seem so loony now, does she? So go get your own cow, and get your milk fresh off the udder every morning, for the old ways are upon us.
And there’s no electric stove. Firewood? That’s an option, but not for everybody, especially not the modern suburban wife who won’t risk her three-inch nails and the million-dollar hairdo near an open flame – unless, of course, it’s a braai.
So be sure to carry home any animal you happen to kill on your way from work. They call it “roadkill stew”. Either you hunt and gather, or it’s dried veggies and dried meat. And dried bread, carefully broken into morsels and passed around a candlelit table like Christ did with his men before Judas, tired of stale bread, sold him out for just thirty pieces of silver, a real bargain for the head of a Messiah.
Which brings us to our last tip, money. Forget all that talk from Reserve Bank boss Gideon Gono that we must not stuff our mattresses with cash.
When the power goes out, you can be certain many ATMs will go on the blink. Generators are not to be trusted, as half of them have long been drained of fuel by capitalist security guards by night. Having a contingency stash of cash will help you resist the temptation of leading your family, in cowhorn formation, on a looting rampage of your better prepared neighbours.