M.

@Miss_Oluremi Pse mind your own business. Stop policing your neighbors.

Our married tenant is dating one of our single tenants who is a student. His wife will be upstairs taking care of their baby while he and the student hang out. Both of them came home very late last night, and I saw them. I even greeted him. He knows, I know, but he has never begged me not to tell his wife. I can imagine how the woman would be feeling. They wore the same clothes to the church this morning, with their baby 😭 the girl passed beside them and greeted 'good morning sir, good morning ma'. The wife is so oblivious. Also, how can a young student be dating a young married man who rented a room and parlour face me i face you to start a family. What does he have to offer, how did he convince her🤦🏽‍♀️

No matter what happens, do not birth just one child, give them siblings that’s the only family they’ll have. When you’re gone uncles, aunties and cousins won’t be there for them.

Do people really enjoy being home all day, alone, without seeing anyone?

FROM OUR INBOX💔 Hi Harare Times In July 2025, I responded to a promotion that was being run by Gray Homes Construction Company. I decided to build a small cottage and entered into an agreement with the director and CEO, Annavestah Mudiwa. We agreed that I would pay monthly instalments towards the construction of a two-bedroom cottage. I made payments until the total reached US$10,760. According to our contract, construction was supposed to begin once 70% of the agreed amount had been paid. However, in March 2026, after reaching the 70% mark, Mrs. Mudiwa informed us that fuel prices had increased and claimed that the total cost of the project would rise to US$22,000. This was a significant change from the original agreement. She also requested an extension and insisted that we continue paying instalments, even though no work had started on the ground. This did not make sense to us. We then realised that the service was poor. Whenever we tried to contact her, she would say she was in a meeting and would call back later, which she often did not do. This was very unprofessional. We decided to cancel the agreement and requested a refund. After this, Mrs. Mudiwa became rude and uncooperative. No work had been done at the site, and we have been trying to recover our money. Our lawyer sent a demand letter, but there was no response. The lawyer then visited the Gray Homes office located along Longden Avenue, Harare, Zimbabwe, only to be informed that the company had moved from that address last year. We have tried to contact Mrs. Mudiwa to provide the new address, but she has refused to share it. We are kindly asking for assistance in locating her and recovering our money. It is very painful because we worked hard and made sacrifices, only for someone to take our money and then disappear.

@eng_lui_tme Ndetwe money laundering and drugs.

Tuma shop utwu twune vanhu vanototenga here ? I have never seen kana munhu one zvake arimo. Yerent vanoiwanep

Anyone in here work at a hotel front desk? This is for you. STOP ANNOUNCING ROOM NUMBERS WHEN YOU HAND OVER THE KEY.

Crazy that 70-80 year olds are generally seen as unemployable due to physical and mental decline. But we’re allowing them to run our entire country.

Being alone doesn't bother me. What bothers me is when I finally let people in, and they ruin the peace I created for myself.

one of the best tweets i’ve ever read on here. it really stuck with me.

Our parents used to drop us off at school with no water bottle, no phone and no snacks, yet somehow we survived.

Chigwell Estate in Chegutu was once a multi million dollar orange exporting farm with 42,000 orange trees, owned by Thomas Beattie. In 2005, the farm was taken over by Bright Matonga of ZANU–PF, and in less than 3years, it turned into a forest. 🚶‍♂️ Credit: Ngoni Danzwa

@bod_repuplic Do they ever listen. As a Prosecutor I will say, count 1 kidnapping, count 2 rape, count 3 obstruction of justice, one or all will definitely stick 😎

As a single brother living alone. Don't allow your neighbor's children come into your apartment to play.

My father's best friend was a man called Uncle Bayo who disappeared from our lives without explanation. I was 12 the last time I saw him. He came to our flat in Gbagada, argued with my father in the bedroom for an hour, and walked out without saying goodbye to me. My father never spoke his name again. Neither did my mother. Uncle Bayo became a silence with a shape. Twenty-six years passed. I was in Philadelphia for a conference. A networking dinner at a hotel downtown. Across the room, a man about my father's age caught my eye and held it too long. He approached me during dessert and said my surname like it was a question he already knew the answer to. We sat in the hotel lobby until 2am. He told me the story my father never did. They had started a construction company together in the early 90s. It had failed because of a contract dispute with a senator. The senator had paid only half the money and refused the rest. The debt had crushed them. Uncle Bayo had blamed my father for trusting the senator. My father had blamed Uncle Bayo for not reading the fine print. The friendship had shattered. Two men who had been closer than brothers had become strangers over something neither of them could control. Uncle Bayo had moved to America after the falling out. He had built a new life, a new business, a small contracting firm in West Philly. He had married a Ghanaian woman and had two daughters. He had never returned to Nigeria. He had never called my father. He had assumed the silence was mutual. I asked why he approached me now. He said he recognised my face because I looked like my father at 30. He said he had been waiting for decades to see that face again, to explain something that was never about betrayal. He said the argument had been about shame, not money. Both men had felt they failed each other. Neither had known how to say it. I called my father from the hotel room. It was 3am in Lagos. He answered on the second ring, voice thick with sleep and alarm. I told him who I was sitting with. The line went quiet. Then my father did something I had never heard him do. He cried. Not softly. The kind of crying that comes from a place words cannot reach. Uncle Bayo flew to Lagos 3 months later. They met at the same flat in Gbagada. They sat in the same living room where the argument had happened. They didn't re-litigate the past. They just sat together, two old men with white hair and matching hypertension medication, and let the silence heal. My father died last year. Uncle Bayo spoke at the funeral. He said the greatest thief in life is not money or failure. It is the belief that there is always more time. Call them. The debt is not theirs. It is yours.

A CHILD CANNOT SEDUCE AN ADULT. PLEASE STOP IT!!!!!

Nigerian police raided avenues and spots on Sunday in Abuja where sex workers usually gather, packed them into a van, and took them to the station where they allegedly took turns raping them. Whenever you see sex workers running when men in uniform approach, their reason for running is worse than you might think. The Nigerian police are bottom of the barrel.

That haircut might scream undercover cop, but even that doesn’t justify taking a young man’s life. He was someone’s sonsomeone with a future that’s now been cut short, a life that could have shaped generations. Nothing explains or excuses that loss. Justice cannot be delayed or diluted. The law must take its full course thoroughly, transparently, and without bias. Accountability matters, not just for the victim, but for every family that deserves to feel protected, not threatened. Let this not become another story that fades away. Let it stand as a line drawn, where actions meet consequences, and where a young man’s life is honored with the justice he deserves.

RESIDENT SUES CITY OF HARARE FOR NEGLIGENCE OVER TRIP HAZARD In Harare, an aggrieved resident has asked City of Harare (CoH) to compensate her for more than US$24 000 after she suffered severe injuries owing to negligence by the local authority, whose employees left a drainage pit open in one of the suburbs in the capital city. 33 year-old Leocardia Ngonidzashe Mandiwa was left nursing injuries on her body after she fell into an uncovered and unmarked drain, which measured approximately 1.8 metres deep on 30 June 2025. According to summons filed at Harare Civil Magistrates Court, Mandiwa, who is employed as a hairdresser and who was coming from her workplace located in Harare’s central business district and who had disembarked from a commuter omnibus at a bus stop at Mabelreign Shopping Centre, sustained severe injuries on her body, which include three broken ribs on her right side and also suffered a permanent injury in that she sustained a fractured rib as a result of the injuries and continues to experience excruciating pain, protested that there were no barricades surrounding the drain and there were also no danger warning signs surrounding and around the drain to alert road users of the hazard. The drain, Mandiwa said, was unmarked such that it was reasonably impossible for her to ascertain its existence and she had to be pulled out of the drain by well- wishers who were going about their business. Mandiwa, who used to be a fitness enthusiast, and can no longer participate in physical exercises due to the injuries which she sustained from the incident, argued that CoH negligently caused the accident and the injuries and damages which she suffered, by breaching its duty of care towards road users and being negligent by leaving the drain in question open and uncovered. Mandiwa, who engaged Tinashe Chinopfukutwa of Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights to sue CoH, held the local authority accountable for her misfortunes as its employees had left the drain uncovered thereby creating a dangerous situation for members of the public and other road users and for failing to barricade the area surrounding and around the open drain. CoH, Mandiwa said, had also failed to put danger warning signs to alert members of the public of the hazard and failed to guard against harm to members of the public presented by the open drain. Out of the US $24 593 that Mandiwa is demanding from CoH, US$5 000 is damages for pain and suffering, US$5 000 is damages for permanent disfigurement, US$4 000 is damages for future medical expenses, US$5 000 is damages for loss of social amenities of life, US$1 237 is damages for medical expenses, US$2 700 is damages for loss of income and US$1 656 is damages for unutilised rentals. After the incident, Mandiwa was not able to work for six months even though she had secured business premises and had paid rentals in the sum of US$1 656, which she lost as she could not utilise the premises for the duration covered by the rentals as she was hospitalised due to the injuries, which she suffered from the incident. The Harare resident also lost income from her job as a hairdresser from June to December 2025 in the sum of US$2 700. Mandiwa charged that CoH has a statutory duty and duty of care to protect members of the public from the hazard by covering the drain, and erecting warning signs and lighting in order to prevent road users from falling into the drain but had breached its duty of care by wrongfully and negligently creating a dangerous situation by leaving the drainage access point exposed and unreasonably failing to take reasonable precautions to protect her and other members of the public, from harm which could have easily been foreseen and guarded against. Mandiwa is the latest aggrieved person to sue CoH among several people, who have lodged lawsuits against the local authority demanding payment for damages arising from gross negligence by its employees.

All Marlborough, Mabelreign, Westgate residents & surrounding areas, this is the face of one of the robbers who have been terrorizing your neighbourhood. He was caught on CCTV- let's make him popular. I am sure a lot of people know this man.

Dear HRs, Stop holding interviews when you have already decided who is getting the job. Some of the unemployed borrow money for transport! Thank you.

Why do you go to church every Sunday to hear the same lies you've been hearing since you were born.