The bike repair shop

The Bike repair Shop

This is the bicycle repair shop at the side of the football pitch in Chainda compound and on the main road of the village. Bikes, in varying states of road worthiness, are popular although, as elsewhere, there are a lot of accidents on the roads involving them and cars. Nobody has any bike lights and wheels often squeak by on flattened tires or steel rims whilst chains, pedals and two wheels can be luxuries. They seem often to serve the role of donkeys and riders can be observed wobbling precariously down the roads and dirt tracks or pushing their contraptions fully laden with any sort of produce from maize plants, breeze blocks to baskets of live chickens. I have never seen a Zambian woman on a bicycle and the form of transport seems the domain of the male and as a form of fun for the lads. The wooden planked bench around the inside of the tarpaulin shop wall serves as a place for the blokes to sit and share the time of day and pass, with testosterone laden importance, tools to each other. The punctures and other repairs are not undertaken in a hurry. There is a lot to discuss in the bicycle repair shop.The shop and its hand pump also provide a football re-inflation service to the teams using the pitch, a charge of Kw1 (just over 10 pence) being levied for each ball. It does a good trade. Although there are no rigidly enforced cycling rules to adhere to, when using the road a safety tip is to cycle on the opposite side and head into the direction of the incoming traffic. At least this way you can see the cars coming and get out of the way before they hit you.

People are proud of their bikes, particularly if they are in good or at least working order. When I asked to photograph Blaya the local shopkeeper outside his little shop, he agreed then ran off without saying where, only to reemerge from his house in the bush with his bike some minutes later which he proceeded to sit on. He looked up at me in his Arsenal shirt and shuffled into a very deliberate pose before giving me the thumbs up to indicate he was ready for the shot.

Blaya on his pride and joy and  in his dodgy shirt

Whilst we're on wheeled contraptions, pushchairs do not exist except in the hands of Muzungus. Women or children carry their children or younger relations on their backs wrapped securely in Chintengas. Walking through the compound with my niece in her pushchair certainly draws the gaze from the eyes of the inhabitants. There are a group of generally more well off "cool-kid" Zambians that like to follow the trends they see in the media from the west and this takes the form of carrying their, perhaps carefully planned child, around in a flash baby carrier on their, his or her chest. You rarely see this in the compound though, sightings limited to the area around the shopping centre. Comparisons are drawn in my mind of seeing someone with the latest gadget in this country, following a trend, in public, receiving second looks from the people gathered around and mumbled, slightly perplexed comments from those passing by. The feeling is similar to when people here first got those earpieces for their phones and clearly enjoyed walking through the streets talking animatedly to themselves leaving a wake of confused glances. Most people don't follow this alien trend but just get on with things and the people of the compound don't really think about freestyle classic three in one baby carriers. Ever. They have neither the time or inclination, never mind the money.

A buggy in unchartered territory