Heat

Poetic Food Technologist who loves helping people!

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@curatedchapter1 All the best on the new journey!

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@helen_warlow Love it! What's for lunch? 😁

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@sorealfoods Is this for sharing?

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@EvaLovesDesign What about bird's eye?

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Someone gave me 5 beautiful bunches of pak choy, not sure what to do. How do you cook this vegetable? #MasterChefAustralia

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@Adam_FaithfulM I love your posts, so profound!

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@Adam_FaithfulM You have put it very well.

[Inspiration Wiz @Inspirationwiz]

50 things to do instead of wasting another year:
(start them in July)

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@TheRealCanthra @itsme_urstruly Also did that out of curiosity 🤣 only to let it rot 😞 never tasted it 😂

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@summer_food Green goddess? 😂

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@KS_Mussa The 380 is astounding - you don't feel anything at all!

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@ThrillaRilla369 @_TruthZone_ 3094

[Anagha @AAnagha197]

#vss365 #batch

In the kitchen of chaos, where ideas collide,
An enchantress stirs midnight with a mischievous stride.
She gathers lost echoes and shards of wild dream,
Then pours them together in a bubbling stream.

Batch after batch, the verses awaken,
Some sweet as honey, some sharp and untaken.
They simmer and sparkle, they rise and they fall,
Until suddenly magic, the poem conquers all.

[Heat @heat8888]

@AAnagha197 Beautiful, what a lovely read!

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@FlockLeader_ @Vickcantmiss Say that again! 😂

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@HarareBookClub This is awesome 😎

[Harare Book Club 📖 @HarareBookClub]

Thank you for all the submissions.

If you missed out this time, lookout for upcoming submission calls. In the meantime, keep writing!

[Heat @heat8888]

@FitnessDr_ Fuel

[King Jay🇿🇼 @KingJayZim]

😂 #KingsMemoirs

The early 80s in Zimbabwe hit differently. Independence had just come, the country was buzzing, and suddenly there was a whole new breed of black entrepreneurs, hustlers and dealers making serious moves in Harare. Sharp dressers, fast talkers, big spenders, always somewhere important to be.

I somehow found myself moving amongst them even though I was just a young apprentice earning peanuts at the time. Funny thing is, they liked my company, and before long I was part of the furniture in some of those circles.

Most evenings would start at the Terreskane Hotel on Fife Avenue/Second Street Extension. That place was alive back then. Deals being made over drinks, loud laughter, stories flying across tables, everybody trying to outdo the next man.

You could feel the ambition in the room. Harare was changing right in front of us and we were all caught up in the excitement of it.

The regular crew included characters like Stewart “Boots” Matimba, Webster Machingura, Charles “Jacha” Bvumbe, Chikichi, Douglas Chimutanda and a few other well-known faces from that era.

Proper larger-than-life personalities. And Boots… ah that man loved his huge American cars. The kind of long, heavy machines that looked like they needed their own postcode. Big body Chevvys . When Boots arrived, people noticed. Those cars announced themselves long before the man even stepped out.

At a time when Datsun Bluebirds, Mazda 323s and Toyota Cressidas ,VW Golfs were already status symbols, Boots was operating on another level altogether. Everything about that era felt big.

Cool rides , big music, big spending and even bigger dreams.
And after Terreskane, the night usually rolled into the Pint and Bite next door where DJ Washie kept the place jumping with the hottest tunes in town. The music, the fashion, the confidence, the freedom, everything about those nights screamed new Zimbabwe energy. The 80s were lakker man, things were firing properly.

I also crossed paths with some real Harare hard cases in those years. Names like Mhozi “Mabhaibiri”, notorious jailbird Charles Malgas, Zindi Abdul and cool cats like Chris Abdul, my neighbour Washington Chikonzo , Army Captain Marco Vheremu and the legendary Mr Iron Man himself, Bible Mhiza.

Now Bible Mhiza once literally saved my life, because one night I nearly got myself killed after mixing courage with BOLS Brandy and Coke. That stuff finished me completely. Somewhere along the line I convinced myself I was The Incredible Hulk and started challenging the doorman at SCAMPS International Night Club on Park Street to a fight.
Not just any doorman mind you.

The man standing there was none other than former Rhodesian heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad “Tar Baby”.
Yes… THAT Tar Baby.

Completely out of my senses, there I was squaring up like I was about to become heavyweight champion of Africa. Looking back now, that man could probably have folded me into a suitcase with one punch.

Luckily for me, Bible Mhiza happened to be nearby when this madness started unfolding. Before Tar Baby could turn me into tomorrow’s headline, Bible calmly walked over, lifted me over his shoulder like a sack of mealie meal, carried me down the stairs, threw me into a Rixi Taxi and told the driver, “Take this idiot friend of mine home.”

The next morning when people told me what had happened, I nearly died from embarrassment. From that day onwards I vowed never to touch BOLS Brandy again for as long as I lived.

But honestly, those were unforgettable times. Harare was electric, the nightlife was unmatched, the streets were full of characters, and every weekend felt like another movie waiting to happen.

We still had Coloured police officers called Patrol Officers, everybody knew everybody, and the city still had that rough but exciting edge about it.

The early 80s… ayiwa, those days were something else 😎

[Andreas Huebner @_AndreasHuebner]

Money is not running from you.

Read that again:
Money is not running from you.

Opportunity is not running from you. Favor is not running from you.

God knows your address.

The same God who fed Elijah knows exactly where to send provision.

📖 “My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:19
Stop chasing in fear. Start expecting in faith.

Faith Action:
Type: God knows my address

👉 Share as a seed of expectation.