He had become somewhat a distraught fellow in the hood and found himself hanging about on street corners and sometimes puffing away at a banned substance!
Each day, he joined hordes of youth that had resigned themselves to fate and it was at this time that he ran into a political whirlwind.
Lazzo found himself being goaded into the political arena as he soon became a member of the Chilyelyelye Political Party (CPP) while his mentor found sanctuary in the Mwatipeza Political Party (MPP).
He discovered that it was something most youths found to be an escapist preoccupation because it made them forget the woos so prevalent in the hood.
At this time, he was content with being involved in dispensing t-shirts and organising party meetings.
But he was in a dilemma because he had heard that he may not have a chance to become a councillor here due to his academic limitations spelt out in the new constitution.  He was nowhere near Grade 12 despite being too eloquent.
The CPP helmsman had turned out to be a man who apparently embraced most members of the hood as he was sure of getting vast membership numbers there.
But on closer scrutiny, Lazzo found the man to be discreet as he appeared to be someone who wanted to use other people for his own needs.
He had a rotund and affable face that obviously suggested that he was well-fed unlike most of the acquaintances Lazzo had  persuaded to join the CPP.
“This particular watering hole is the meeting place for the CPP and we are usually here especially after work hours when most of our members begin to flock in, then you won’t complain about lack of an evening drink,” said Lazzo’s mentor who interestingly belonged to another of the many parties springing up in recent times.
He instantly gestured to the man at the counter to bring in a container of a home-brewed concoction.
This was quickly brought as the group of imbibers braced themselves for what seemed to be a free drink.
Lazzo was told that he should not miss parties like the CPP which had the interest of youths at heart including the elderly women who usually felt neglected.
As the proceedings continued, Lazzo asked his mentor what was new that was not done for the hood’s elderly female population that would make the CPP a hit in the hood.
“You see, if you check your cards right, you will see that we are the trump card of the political situation.  In fact, what is happening here is nothing new because, it has happened elsewhere on the African continent…he paused to take another sip from a disposable cup ..
Lazzo took a glance to the far right corner of the wall and he saw the bricklayer who had organised him a job as an assistant recently.
His job was to mix the building sand cement so as to ensure that the bricks made from this mortar were strong.
But he learnt one thing or two from the bricklayers who was now taking his second cup that as construction workers, they did not need to use the recommended number of wheelbarrows to a given number of cement pockets lest they starve!
The idea was to use less cement and more building sand.  If the pile of sand depletes, one did not have to worry by rushing to the proprietor of the structure being constructed.
In fact, one only needed to take a couple of wheelbarrow loads of sand from anywhere in the hood and mix this.
By the time the owner of the building arrived, work would have moved considerably.
In the meantime, about three pockets of cement would have been sold off on the black market.
Lasso was astounded that there were many people in need of cement especially at reduced prices and the proceeds from these transactions were shared between the bricklayer, Lazzo and his mentor.
That month, Lazzo survived well but as soon as building contract ended, Lazzo was back to square one until now when he is eyeing the prospect of having the best of the political scene.
Then at the watering hole, the falling of walls that caused deaths in the city after a heavy downpour was the hot issue.
The slantforehead man not to be outdone declared that in fact, when one was building anything, one had to have safeguards against pilfering of cement.
It occurred to Lazzo that there were very few straight people left to deal with in anything.  What was society coming to?, he asked himself as he contemplated taking another swig at the disposable cup of the sweet brew.
He also thought that the spate of falling walls due to inadequate cement was as a result of deception by the people building these structures.
“Even in politics, there are some people given money to systematically spend on would-be voters but instead, the person entrusted with these sums simply pockets the cash.  What can you do,
because you have no evidence that they did not spend it on CPP sympathizers,” said Lazzo’s mentor whose eyes were beginning to glitter like marble.
Lazzo knew him very well and this was a pointer to his now bypassing the inebriation stage and this was one of the few times he would get very argumentative even about issues he least understood.
He merely looked at newspaper headlines and began his speculation from there and this paid dividends because he was never short of drink as most incoming imbibers appeared willing to sponsor him.
Lazzo was reminded by his mentor that there was a job to do because the party needed the blank t-shirts just ordered meant for circulation in the hood to bear the portrait of the CPP stalwart.
But deep down inside, Lazzo thought the man had a defiant look that unsettled him in his analysis.  That trait of being intransigent and synonymous with being arrogant or stubborn worried him.
Then he recalled a local language proverb which postulated that ‘the owner of a brew will never have dirty hands!’