Simon Chari (not his real name), is a 34-year-old secondary school teacher who graduated from the University of Zimbabwe in 1993 with an honours degree in English.
He taught in rural Rushinga in Mashonaland Central for a year before transferring to the capital, Harare, at the beginning of 1995. He wanted to be closer to his young wife, who worked in the city as a receptionist for a clothing firm, but the company shut down in 2001, citing a hostile business environment.
"The teaching profession, even though it was among one of the lowest paid jobs then, was comfortable. My monthly salary was slightly more than $3,000 (US $54), but I could manage to fend for the family and buy households goods, and still manage to save," Chari tells IRIN.
"Things started to get bad from the end of 1997, when prices of basic commodities began to rise on an ad hoc basis. I remember that the national economy started to take a nosedive and industrial action became the order of the day."
Chari says he bought his last major household item, a two-plate stove, with his 1998 annual bonus.
"I'm glad I managed to buy most of the basic household goods - a bed, a wardrobe, a television set, a radio and a lounge suite - before the economic situation deteriorated. I shudder to think where I would have acquired the money to buy even a simple black and white television set, now going for more then $200,000 [US $243], on my paltry salary."
He earns Zim $110,000 (US $133), which will rise to $220,000 (US $267) under a salary increase promised by the government.
Chari, married with three children, two of whom are in primary school, says in 2000 he was forced to let the house his late parents left to him, as the eldest son, and he moved to a two-roomed cottage in the high-density suburb of Mufakose where he teaches. However, the rental he receives is shared among his five siblings and does not go very far.
What is particularly humiliating, he says, is that one of his students is the daughter of the owners of the house where he is living.
"People living in cottages here are derisively referred to as 'vakomana vekuseri', which is Shona for 'backyard boys'. The daughter looks down on me and I find it difficult to discipline her for fear of being ejected from the cottage by her parents, especially these days when lodgings are very difficult to get."
In October last year, Chari was suspended by the Ministry of Education and Culture for taking part in a teachers' strike organised by the Progressive Teachers' Union of Zimbabwe, in which he is an active member. The union called the strike to press the government for better salaries.
Even though he was reinstated, he awaits the decision of a ministry disciplinary board, which he says intends to fire him along with other teachers who participated in the strike.
The last time he was on suspension for his union activities, with his salary frozen, he took up gold panning on the Mazowe river in Mashonaland Central. Chari set up a hut in the bush close to a citrus farm and dredged the nearby river for alluvial gold that he sold to middlemen in Harare. He has since acquired a prospecting licence and has two gold claims on the farm.
"Business is bad but I don't have a choice. Living conditions are tough and I have to spend weeks away from home and work, on the pretext that I am ill. One day, I returned to discover that my wife, who gave birth about two months ago, had been detained in hospital for a week."
But he now intends to take up gold panning full time as his salary "cannot sustain me".
Chari accuses the government of President Robert Mugabe for the economic downturn the country is experiencing, arguing that only a regime-change can save Zimbabwe. He blames Mugabe for embarking on a "hasty" land reform programme, and for clamping down on the opposition.
"I wish that Mugabe would step down and permit democratic elections to take place. After that, the IMF [International Monetary Fund] and the World Bank should come back and ensure that the foreign currency situation improves. That way, we will be able to bring up our children in peace and comfort and mould them into future leaders," Chari says.
SEE ALSO:
ZIMBABWE: A nurse's tale
ZIMBABWE: A policeman's tale
ZIMBABWE: A veteran's tale
ZIMBABWE: A businessman's tale
ZIMBABWE: Special Report on rising poverty