stāsts gandrīz kā aņukā, ja nebūtu tik skumīgi
Tendai Moyo, 28, goes into a shop in downtown Harare and heads for a shelf where, a day ago, she saw a feeding bottle she wanted to buy for her three-month-old son.

She picks it up and goes to the till, convinced she can afford this luxury for her child, but the cashier nonchalantly tells her the price has more than doubled, and the new price is more than the cash she has on her.

Moyo, a cleaner and one of the few people with a job in a country with an unemployment rate of more than 80 percent, storms out and joins a long queue at a nearby bank to see if she can withdraw more money.

Moyo: "This price madness is frustrating, and it makes you hopeless because it seems it will never come to an end. I just don't understand why and how prices keep on increasing at such a rate. I have given up and will have to use a cup instead of the bottle that is ideal for my son."

After three hours, having withdrawn the maximum daily limit of Z$50,000 (US$2.50) and added it to the $Z100,000 (US$5) given to her by her husband, a driver for a commercial bank, she returns to the shop. She again picks up the feeding bottle, but is then told by the cashier that in her absence the price has gone up and she is now $Z30,000 (US$1.50) short.