Officers walk out as
inflation hits 1,600 per cent - but the president's £1m
birthday party goes
ahead
Andrew Meldrum in Johannesburg
Sunday February 18, 2007
The
Observer
Widespread desertions from Zimbabwe's army and police are
weakening Robert
Mugabe's security forces as large strikes loom because of
the country's
deepening economic collapse.
With inflation now at a global
record of 1,600 per cent, The Observer can
reveal that soldiers and police
officers who cannot feed their families are
leaving their posts in large
numbers.
Flyers of army officers who have gone missing are posted in the
hallways of
the King George VI headquarters in Harare and the 1 Commando
quarters near
the airport, according to journalists.
'There are Awol
notices up in the barracks, our reporter saw them,' said
Bill Saidi, editor
of the Standard newspaper. 'Discontent is very high up to
mid-level officers.
They do not earn enough to buy basic groceries. They are
suffering the
hardships all of us suffer now, yet they are the ones Mugabe
depends upon to
be ruthless in putting down any opposition. It adds up to
trouble for
Mugabe.'
Unhappiness is also rife among police. More than 10 per cent of
officers
have resigned and will leave next month, according to a report by
Police
Commissioner Augustine Chihuri, leaked to the Harare press. Many are
joining
the flood of the more than two million Zimbabweans estimated to be in
South
Africa.
Mugabe can ill afford weakening security forces as
popular unrest is
growing. A strike of doctors and nurses at government
hospitals is in its
eighth week and threatens to spread to teachers and civil
servants. Trade
unions are considering calling a nationwide general strike,
despite the
beatings and torture meted out to labour leaders last
September.
Meanwhile, in an interview published yesterday Mugabe accused
Britain of
refusing dialogue with its former colony, and said he expects ties
to
improve after Tony Blair steps down. Harare's official Herald newspaper
said
the dictator, at odds with Britain since ordering the seizure of
white-owned
farms in 2000, had asked former Tanzanian President Benjamin
Mkapa to try to
broker talks with Britain, but later asked him to step down
because the task
was 'insurmountable'.
'Blair behaves like a
headmaster, old fashioned, who dictates that things
must be done his way: "Do
it or you... remain an outcast",' Mugabe is quoted
as saying. 'But we are
hoping that with the departure of Blair, there will
be a better situation and
they can be talked to.'
Mugabe, ruler of Zimbabwe since its independence
in 1980, claimed Britain
has been trying to oust him. But the UK says
Zimbabwe's long-running
political and economic crisis is a result of rights
abuses, vote-rigging and
skewed policies, which have nothing to do with
London.
Zimbabwe is also plagued by widespread power blackouts, often
lasting more
than eight hours. A breakdown in municipal water treatment is
blamed for an
outbreak of cholera in Harare's Mabvuku township. Life
expectancy has
plummeted to 36, the world's lowest, the economy has shrunk by
50 per cent
since 2000 and inflation hit its record last week. The
International
Monetary Fund predicts it will soar to above 4,000 per cent
this year.
Yet Mugabe's supporters - now trying to raise more than £1m to
stage lavish
celebrations to mark his 83rd birthday on Wednesday - appear
unperturbed.
The funds and advertisements praising him will come from the
same
state-owned utilities that are failing to provide clean water,
electricity
and transport.
'Mugabe is acting as if nothing is amiss
and everyone should be happy to
celebrate his birthday. He is not picking up
the signs of growing unrest,'
said Saidi.
Leader
Sunday February 18,
2007
The Observer
Yesterday, Robert Mugabe accused Britain of
avoiding 'dialogue'. It is not a
word he understands. This week, he will
turn 83 and his starving people will
be asked to donate £600,000 for a
party. He remains a symbol of African
tragedy but increasingly, there are
questions about whether he remains in
full control. The last few weeks have
seen strikes among doctors and civil
servants and now it appears the lower
ranks of his police and army are
deserting his unpaid forces. It is an
astonishing descent in fewer than 10
years, with once rich lands now
producing nothing.
In the Review section today, Peter Godwin tells
the story of a paradise
disintegrating. The harassment of his family was a
harbinger of astonishing
misery for all Zimbabweans. And yet, as the hell of
the Congo proves, it
could get worse. The desertions offer no optimism.
Mugabe understands power
and those in the higher reaches of his forces
profit well, not least with
appropriated land.
Britain has mishandled
Mugabe. Our verbal attacks have made him stronger and
he has appeared
mischievous by stealing handshakes with Jack Straw and
Prince Charles. A
minister called him 'uncivilised', uniting black Africa in
suspicion. Yet
Peter Hain, and many others in our government, have friends
in power in
South Africa where the deserting police are turning up.
At present South
Africa's President Thabo Mbeki is the only politician who
can prevent
further tragedy. He must be convinced to stand up to his
neighbouring
leader. He must aid the suffering Zimbabwean people.
As a white child in Rhodesia,
Peter Godwin lived in an African paradise.
Fast-forward to Mugabe's Zimbabwe
in 1998, and his beloved country was
descending into chaos. In a compelling
extract from his new book, he tells
of the ravages of Aids, spiralling
violence, the desecration of his sister's
grave and the hounding of his
ageing parents
Sunday February 18, 2007
The Observer
May
1998
Harare, Zimbabwe
At home my father sits in the sun porch, drinking
weak tea from a chipped
pottery mug with 'Dad' painted on it in wobbly
childish letters by my sister
Georgina years ago. He shakes his head and
snorts as he reads the Herald,
the government-owned newspaper - snorts at
the distorted, looking-glass
world it reflects, as Zimbabwe has been a
one-party state for 10 years now,
and the Herald faithfully preaches the
word according to the government
gospel.
Article
continues
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From
time to time it all becomes too much for Dad, and he writes a letter to
the
editor, usually about some very specific falsehood, signing the letter
with
a pseudonym. Often he's Rustic Realist. Mostly the letters aren't
printed,
but he keeps on writing just the same.
At 75, my mother has tried to retire
several times but there is no one to
replace her, so she still works at the
hospital. She starts each morning at
6.30 and she sees more than 80 patients
a day.
When I visit her at her clinic later, her long-time assistant,
Sister
Machire, welcomes me, as she always does, like Odysseus returning to
Ithaca.
She escorts me through the packed waiting hall to my mother's
consulting
room. Beige manila patient files are piled high on Mum's desk,
and behind
her on the windowsill is a bright pink ceramic vase full of
colourful
ceramic flowers. My mother's not usually one for knick-knacks, so
I gently
tease her about it. She picks the vase up and turns it in her hands
and
wipes it carefully with a paper towel.
'It was given to me by one
of my patients,' she says, 'a theatre nurse.'
She sighs and puts it
carefully back onto the sill.
'She came to see us years ago with a novel
ailment that looked like German
measles but wasn't. I thought it might be
HIV, but we'd never seen HIV
before - it was still so new there was no test
for it then. When testing
became available a few months later she was one of
the first patients we
tested. It came back positive. For the first time we
had to deal with the
problem of how you inform patients they have HIV. It
was decided that a
panel should do it: a consultant physician, a
psychiatrist and me. The
theatre nurse was an intelligent woman, and the
others talked to her for
about 15 minutes, discussing contraception and the
prevention of
transmission, and then they left, well satisfied that they'd
told her all
they could. She turned to me after they had gone and said,
"What was that
all about? What were they trying to tell me?"
'I said,
"You have a new viral disease that will cause you great
difficulties in
time. And there is no treatment for it yet."
'"But I feel better now,"
she said. I said, "Good, just enjoy yourself,
then, while you feel well.
Keep as healthy as you can, eat well, don't get
overtired. And I will be at
your side."
'There was no point in spelling it out to her that she had a
death sentence
and spoiling what life she had left to live. Anyway she
survived nearly 10
years and she gave me this china flower basket as a
present just before she
died.'
My mother's assistant knocks gently on
the door to say the next patient is
ready.
'You must remember how
many years we weren't even allowed to talk about Aids
here,' my mother
reminds me. 'It was all a dreadful secret. Herbert
Ushewekunze, the minister
of health, issued an edict, a ministerial fatwa,
that there was to be
absolutely no publicity. And later he died of it
himself.' She shakes her
head and reaches for the top patient file. 'Why
don't you wait for me in the
waiting area and then you can drive me home.'
I sit at the back of the
room behind the rows of patients, nurses and
orderlies, maintenance men and
cooks and cleaners. All of them are black.
Two-thirds of them have
contracted HIV. In Shona they now call it
mukondombera, which means a
plague. It has become so common that my mother
can usually diagnose someone
at the doorway of her consulting room. As a
patient politely knocks on the
metal door frame, she knows already what is
wrong.
There are orphans,
so many orphans. In an African society where there has
never been much of a
need for orphanages or old folks' homes because the
extended families have
always looked after their own, there is suddenly a
great need for both. The
people in the middle die, leaving the very young
and the very old behind.
Deep in the bush, whole villages are being found
where the eldest person is
a 12-year-old girl. Villages of children, alone.
And these children walk
miles to fetch the water and collect the firewood
and plant the crops and
cook their meagre food, and sometimes they even try
to keep on going to
school, all by themselves.
The population projections have had to be
revised. In 1980, at Independence,
a man might expect to live to 60, and to
see his children grow up strong and
have children of their own, and if he
was fortunate a man might even live to
see his great-grandchildren bring him
gourds of beer before he died. But
life expectancy dropped to 50, and now it
has collapsed, all the way down to
33. It is hard to comprehend. At 33, just
as a people should be in their
prime, they suddenly sicken and die. And the
managers of the mines and the
factories and the farms have begun training
three people to fill every job,
because they know two will not live to do
the work.
I can see that my mother is weighed down by the burden of it
all. Every day
she has to tell dozens of people they have an incurable
disease. She sits in
her office, surrounded by the badges of her profession,
her white coat and
her stethoscope, and they serve only to mock her
inability to heal.
And worse, some of them have begun saying that the
only way for a man to
cure himself of this lethal affliction is to have sex
with a young virgin,
that this will make him clean again. Many young girls
are raped by men for
this reason, and they too die in their turn, as do the
ones who rape them.
But my mother hasn't given up. At 75, she still gets
up at dawn every
morning and comes into the hospital, working on well past
her retirement
age, paid only her meagre government salary, impelled only by
her stubborn
sense of duty. Even when there is little she can do for them,
she has not
abandoned her patients. She continues to lob her little shells
of
compassion, benignly bombarding the mangrove littoral with her good
offices.
May 2001
Harare, Zimbabwe
Back in Harare, 2 St Aubins
Walk looks unchanged; I give an intricate
selection of honks at the gate:
dot, dash, dash, dot - a gap, then - dash
then dot, dash, dot. It is the
morse code for my initials, which my father
has requested each caller to use
so he can identify us, as a security
precaution. My mother comes limping
out.
'Where's Mavis?' I ask while she fiddles with the padlock on the
gate.
'We finally persuaded her to retire,' says Mum. 'She was getting so
frail
that we were doing all the heavy work anyway. She's part of a housing
co-operative - Dad used to drive her to their meetings every Sunday - and
she's renting a nice little co-op house with her nieces. She's got a good
pension annuity and I've arranged for her to be supplied with hypertension
drugs. She left a card for you and a little goodbye gift.'
As I lug
my bag to the front door I see that my father's Peugeot isn't in
its usual
parking place.
'Is Dad out?' I ask.
'No.'
Then I see him
sitting in his chair, but he doesn't rise. As I get closer,
he lifts his
glass of faux cane-spirit-based Scotch and toasts me. 'Welcome
home,
son.'
He takes a sip and only then, as he rests his head back against his
antimacassar and into the pool of light cast by his reading lamp, do I see
him clearly.
I drop my bag to the floor. 'Christ, Dad, what the hell
happened to you?'
'Oh, it's not as bad as it looks,' he says, smiling his
lopsided smile. His
left eye is swollen shut, and a scab covers that cheek.
There are deep cuts
in the bridge of his nose and forehead, and his broken
glasses are taped
together at the bridge and the sidepieces, one lens
cracked. There is an
angry gash along his left forearm.
'He was
carjacked,' says Mum, handing me a drink.
'Where?'
'Right here, at
our front gate.'
'It wasn't very late,' says Dad, 'just after dark. I
drove up to the gate
and I got out to unlock it, and then suddenly there
were all these armed
men, about eight of them. They'd blocked my car in with
some big vehicle - a
Toyota Landcruiser I think. I never saw the number
plate. You know, it all
happened so quickly. Of course, I realised what was
happening - there's been
a spate of them recently - so I was just about to
say, "Take whatever you
want," when... Well the next thing I knew I'd been
hit from behind and I was
on the ground. Someone wearing a big boot kicked
me in the chest, my glasses
were knocked off and stamped on, and I couldn't
really see what was going
on. They took my wallet, ripped off my watch, and
stole the car. End of
story. The whole thing was over in a few minutes, and
there were no
witnesses.'
'Why didn't you tell me?' I
say.
'Because it would only have worried you unnecessarily,' says my
mother.
'There's nothing you could have done. No point in
fussing.'
'The car was insured,' says Dad, inhaling on his cigarette. He
starts to
cough and winces, holding his bruised ribs. 'But with inflation
being what
it is, the payout won't cover a replacement.'
Later my
mother tells me that Dad suspects the men who carjacked him were
off-duty
soldiers. They were armed, she emphasises, and seemed to have a
military
bearing. They knew what they were doing, had obviously done it a
lot. And
they weren't nervous at all. They were almost casual about the
whole thing.
He reported it to the police, but nothing has come of it.
As we eat, I
look at Dad unobserved. He seems smaller, hunched over, as
though he has
lost some essential core of self-confidence. And I feel a rage
building up
inside me, a fury at all the people I have seen being humiliated
and beaten,
at the powerlessness of them all, at my own impotence.
September
2001
New York
The attack on my father increases my own sense of
unease, especially now
that my sister Georgina will be leaving to live in
London. Her presence has
enabled my absence. She promises that she won't go
without setting up all
sorts of support systems. Mum and Dad seem
unperturbed by the idea of her
departure; she says they have been
encouraging her to go, knowing it is in
her best interests. But I feel like
our family is starting to disintegrate,
spreading out across three
continents - a mini-diaspora of Godwins.
I feel too that the gap opening
up between my new life in New York and the
situation at home in Africa is
stretching into a gulf, as Zimbabwe spirals
downwards into a violent
dictatorship. My head bulges with the effort to
contain both worlds. When I
am back in New York, Africa immediately seems
fantastical - a wildly
plumaged bird, as exotic as it is unlikely. Most of
us struggle in life to
maintain the illusion of control, but in Africa that
illusion is almost
impossible to maintain. I always have the sense there
that there is no
equilibrium, that everything perpetually teeters on the
brink of some
dramatic change, that society constantly stands poised for
some spasm, some
tsunami in which you can do nothing but hope to bob up to
the surface and
not be sucked out into a dark and hungry sea. The origin of
my permanent
sense of unease, my generalised fear, is probably the fact that
I have lived
through just such change, such a sudden and violent upending of
value
systems.
In my part of Africa, death is never far away. With most
Zimbabweans dying
in their early thirties now, mortality has a seat at every
table. The
urgent, tugging winds themselves seem to whisper the message,
memento mori,
you too shall die. In Africa, you do not view death from the
auditorium of
life, as a spectator, but from the edge of the stage, waiting
only for your
cue. You feel perishable, temporary, transient. You feel
mortal.
Maybe that is why you seem to live more vividly in Africa. The
drama of life
there is amplified by its constant proximity to death. That's
what infuses
it with tension. It is the essence of its tragedy too. People
love harder
there. Love is the way that life forgets that it is terminal.
Love is life's
alibi in the face of death.
For me, the illusion of
control is much easier to maintain in England or in
America. In this
temperate world, I feel more secure, as if change will only
happen
incrementally, in manageable, finely calibrated, bite-sized portions.
There
is a sense of continuity threaded through it all: the anchor of
history, the
tangible presence of antiquity, of buildings, of institutions.
You live in
the expectation of reaching old age.
At least you used to...
But
on Tuesday, 11 September 2001, those two states of mind converge.
Suddenly
it feels as though I am back in Africa, where things can be taken
away from
you at random, in a single violent stroke, as quick as the whip of
a snake's
head. Where tumult is raised with an abruptness that is as
breathtaking as
the violence itself.
September 2002
Zimbabwe
Once a year I try
to visit my sister's grave, and I'm doing it this
afternoon. Jain is older
than me by seven years but forever frozen at 27,
killed just weeks before
her own wedding. It was in 1978, during the civil
war. She and her fiancé
and their best man were travelling back to their
home in Shamva in the
north-east of the country when their car ran into an
army ambush that was
preparing to attack guerrillas in a roadside village.
The only survivor was
Spence, the best man's fox terrier. Jain was the
nurturing one, the glue
that held our family together, an infants' teacher,
a home bird, the
organiser of reunions and Sunday lunches, the keeper of the
domestic flame.
Her death is the ugly scar that overlays our family's
emotional topography,
less a scar really than a sore that even after all
these years still
suppurates.
Neither of my parents feels up to the trip, but my mother
calls Isaac to
help her cut a selection of flowers.
Mum points to
tall blue and yellow crane flowers, and sprigs of
yesterday-today-and-tomorrow, forget-me-nots, strelitzia, soft ivory kapok
blossom from the tree that Mum transplanted from Jain's garden after she
died, green mopheads of papyrus from the pool and blue plumbago.
'I
want her to see how the garden's doing,' Mum says as she helps Isaac tie
the
selection together into a huge, unruly posy. At the centre of their
floral
architecture are two long spiny stalks of aloe, 'to ward off
Kipling's
hyenas', says Mum, and a clutch of white arum lilies, 'as symbols
of
purity'.
Isaac puts the flowers into a bucket of water and jams it in the
foot-well
of the passenger seat of the car, and I drive it out along the
Bulawayo road
to Warren Hills cemetery. Since I was last here, the adjacent
township,
Warren Park, has swollen and is now garlanded with improvised
shacks, which
press hard up against the cemetery boundary. I park the car
and carry the
flowers up the hillside to the garden of remembrance, where
all cremated
remains are entombed in rows inside long, low, curving stone
walls, under a
canopy of wild musasa trees.
As I approach, I see that
something else has changed since my last visit.
The fence that used to
separate the township from the cemetery has been
dismantled, and there is a
new network of footpaths where the residents have
taken shortcuts through
the graves. Closer still, peering over my flowers, I
see that they are also
using it as an open-air lavatory. There are little
clumps of soiled toilet
paper scattered around, and a fetid smell. And in
amongst the graves at the
top, people have started to cultivate little
patches of maize. Then I notice
that the brass plaques which were bolted on
to each mini-tomb, inscribed
with the names and details of the dead, are
missing. Every single one. The
wall is just a long line of blank niches. I
have no idea which is Jain's.
Some of the tombs themselves have been broken
open and the urns
removed.
I stamp down to the cemetery office, but there is no one there.
Finally, I
find a gaunt man leaning against the crematorium wall, smoking
and coughing.
'I am not the in-charge,' he says, when he sees I want to
complain about the
state of the place.
'But how did this happen?' I
ask.
He shrugs and exhales his smoke and coughs a bit more. 'We have a
guard only
in the day. When it is dark, those people come from the township
and they
steal the fence, and sometimes they take gravestones too, to build
their
houses, and others, they steal the plaques from the tombs. They melt
them
down to make brass handles for coffins for the people who die of this
Aids.'
'Well, where can I put my flowers,' I say miserably. 'We picked
all these
flowers and now I can't even tell which one is my sister's
grave.'
He nips the stub of his cigarette between long dirty nails, and
sucks one
last lungful of smoke, burning it right down to the filter, and he
throws it
down on the stone path.
'Let's we go,' he says, and I
follow him as he coughs his way down to the
office. He wanders off into the
back. I hear drawers opening and closing and
more coughing, and then he
returns with a big ledger. 'When did she die?' he
asks.
'April 22nd,
1978.'
He flips through the book and then turns it around to me so I can
see the
names for 1978 and I move my finger down the column until I find
Jain's
name. Next to it is written U.160.
'I can show you where that
one is,' he says, and he coughs back up the hill,
and down one of the walls,
and as we go he counts the blank tombs and then
stops. 'This is the one,' he
says, pointing and coughing violently. 'This is
your sister.' And then he
leaves me alone.
At least her tomb has not been ripped open. The plaque
is gone, of course,
but the rough cement plug still seems intact, which
should mean that the urn
with her ashes is still inside. I move the flowers
away from my face and,
losing their sweet masking scent, am assailed again
by the overpowering
smell of human shit. I see now that there is a fresh
mound of wet turds
right in front of me, right in front of Jain. In the time
we have been down
at the office, someone has crapped here. I kneel down to
prop my mother's
unwieldy flower bunch against Jain's blank headstone. But
when I stand back
up, the flowers slowly topple over. I dive to save them,
but I am too late,
and they fall across the stinking mound. I pick them up
to see there is a
wide streak of mustard shit all across the white arum
lilies. Symbols of
purity, my mother had called them.
'Fuck this!' I
shout, and I hurl the flowers away, up in a wide parabola. It
lands near two
women who are bent over, hoeing their cemetery maize, their
babies strapped
to their backs. They stop their hoeing, look up for a moment
and murmur to
each other, and one laughs. And then they go back to their
digging. I wonder
which one of them crapped here.
Back in the office, I bang repeatedly on
the bell that sits on the wooden
counter. Eventually I hear the coughing
getting closer, and the gaunt man
shuffles in.
'I want to move my
sister. I want to take away her remains. How do I do it?'
'Ah, it's too
difficult,' he says, shaking his head. 'You need special
documents. You need
permission to disinter, permission to uplift ashes. And
you need to
relinquish ownership of the burial plot.'
His voice is no longer flat and
bored, and he has stopped coughing 'It is
too, too difficult,' he
repeats.
He is looking at me expectantly and I realise that he's probably
punting for
a bribe. That he is going to hold my sister's ashes hostage in
their
crap-strewn resting place unless I pay him to spring
her.
November 2003
Harare
I carry my bags into the guest room,
which now doubles as a study. Over by
the computer, where my father has sat
for hours typing out emails to me
about himself, there are piles of medical
and engineering papers, which he
recycles by printing on their backs. New
paper now costs Z$100 a sheet.
Mum follows me and clears some space in
the wardrobe, and I hang my New York
clothes next to a row of her white
doctor's coats.
My parents turn in early, but with the time difference,
sleep eludes me. I
lie on the single bed staring at the widening structural
cracks that
fracture the walls, the white ceiling panels discoloured by
repeated leaks,
and I listen to the rats scurrying frenetically back and
forth up there. I
cannot go out on to the veranda as I'd have to unlock the
rape gate, which
would wake my light-sleeping mother. So I get up and stand
at the window and
look out through the curlicued burglar bars, out across
the swollen
profusion of our garden, to the massive bowers of bougainvillea
that mark
the boundary of Fort Godwin. My parents have had Isaac plant sisal
bushes
along the inside border of the hedge and now their savagely serrated
leaves
form an interlocking barrier. Still, through it all, I can make out
the
flickering of the fires of the street hawkers camped out along Hindhead
Avenue. During the day they sit at their pathetic rickety wooden stands and
sell groundnuts in tiny bags, single mangos, bananas, tomatoes and
cigarettes, and they roast corn on small fires and sell half a cob at a
time. Sometimes they don't even make enough for the bus fare home to the
townships so they sleep right there, under our bougainvillea hedge, like
tonight. I can hear them murmuring to each other, gently scolding their
children. I can hear their liquid coughing and hawking, and their babies'
mewling. They must be lying 15 yards away from my bed, and the harsh smoke
from their fires seeps though the hedge and in through my open windows and
catches in my throat.
My parents are wary of them. They feel watched
all the time. The hawkers
know everything about their routine - when the
dogs are fed, when Isaac is
out. My parents worry that the hawkers will
provide intelligence to
attackers.
For breakfast Mum makes my father
a fried egg on 'cake toast', a dish worthy
of Marie Antoinette. There is a
price control on ordinary bread made from
flour, a control that pegs it at
such a low price that the bakers take a
loss on every loaf they sell. Long
queues form for the few loaves produced.
The bakers have got around the
price control by producing 'fancy loaves'
with sugar and the very occasional
raisin in them, which are not controlled
by the price-fixing statute, and
are very expensive - way beyond the reach
of most people. Mum worries that
Dad is losing too much weight. After his
slap-up breakfast he has nothing
for lunch, and then another two thin slices
of bread with either a single
sliver of ham or of cheese on them for dinner,
washed down by cane-spirit
whisky. Mum herself has given up bread
completely, she confides; the
cake-bread is simply too expensive for both of
them to eat.
'I eat
cabbage instead,' she says. 'And minced pork. It's the cheapest meat
at the
moment, it's going for Z$4,000 for 500 grams.'
Beef has suddenly
quadrupled in price because the national herd, 1.4 million
strong three
years ago, has been decimated.
'People are saying that a chicken breast
goes further,' she muses. 'A small
tin of tuna will last for four meals, if
you mix it with cabbage. And we
don't drink real coffee any more, we drink
chicory.'
December 2003
Harare
I am back in Zimbabwe. I
collapse into bed early at my parents' house. But I
am awoken in the middle
of the night from a deep sleep. All is confusion -
shouting, flashing,
crackling, our dogs barking in the garden. I hear Mum
calling out. I pull
the curtains aside and see that our bougainvillea hedge
is on fire. Flames,
already tall, are dancing up towards the fir trees.
Spark showers are
bursting up into an indigo sky. The weaverbird nests that
hang on the ends
of the bougainvillea stalks are burning too, the little
yellow birds
swooping above and calling in alarm.
'It's the damned hawkers,' says Mum.
'Their fire has got into the hedge.'
I pull on some clothes, unlock the
rape gate and the two doors out to the
veranda and go out into the garden. I
fumble in the dark to find the
hosepipe and connect it to a garden tap. But
the pressure is hopelessly low.
I get a bucket, fill it from the pool and
throw it onto the flames. It makes
no difference, but I keep doing it,
running back and forth with buckets of
water, the dogs following me,
barking. Mum and Dad appear on the veranda in
their dressing gowns. Dad has
the .38. 'Just in case it's a set-up,' says
Mum. 'It could be
deliberate.'
Dad calls 999 from his mobile, as our landline has been cut,
perhaps by the
flames burning the overhead wires. Or perhaps, Mum worries,
by would-be
robbers in cahoots with the hawkers. The fire burns for an hour
or so, and
just as it is dying down, a fire engine arrives. The firemen
slowly untangle
their hoses, and douse the embers of the hedge.
It is
nearly dawn, and Mum brings out a tray of milkless tea - milk is
unavailable
again. We sit on the patio, watching the sun rise through the
smoke. The
bougainvillea bowers have more or less vanished, and the sisal
has been
reduced to blackened hulks like the innards of aeroplane wreckage.
The fence
that winds its way through the middle of the hedge is charred and
sagging
and broken in several places. And as the day lightens, we see that
we are
completely exposed, looking directly into the hawkers' camp and the
busy
throng of curious passers-by beyond. The hawkers sit there at their
little
stalls, staring in at us, murmuring to themselves, unapologetic for
burning
down our barrier. Several of the kids stand by the ruined fence,
coughing
their liquid coughs and watching us drink our tea.
My parents have spent
the last 15 years tending this barrier against the
huddled masses outside,
reinforcing it until they have judged it
impregnable, and it has been
incinerated in an hour.
'We could replace it with a wall,' I
suggest.
'No,' says Mum. 'Too expensive. And anyway, if you have
ostentatious
security it makes it look like you have something worth
stealing. It only
encourages robbers. That was the whole beauty of the
hedge.'
As we sit there, the mournful wail of the air-raid siren marks
the first
class of the day across the road at Oriel Boys'
School.
'Always reminds me of being in London during the Blitz,' says
Mum. 'Feels
like it now, too,' she says, surveying the smouldering cinders
of Fort
Godwin's bougainvillea battlements.
The breeze is picking up,
swaying the fir trees on the other boundary.
Crows, with their awful cawing,
used to gather in their hundreds on these
trees.
'No crows,' I
say.
'What?' says Dad.
'Where are the crows?' I say, louder,
pointing up at the firs and the
hawkers all look up at the firs too. 'What
happened to that great flock of
crows that used to congregate around the
school?'
'Not the flock,' says Dad, ever the stickler for his adopted
tongue, 'the
murder. They disappeared recently. I have a theory: since the
food
shortages, the Oriel schoolboys have been eating up all their packed
lunches. They no longer strew bread crusts and bits of fruit and the like on
the playing fields and courtyards. Everyone's hungry now. Nothing is wasted.
So no scraps for crows.'
At the siren, Isaac appears.
'Ah! Ah!
It is too bad,' he says, surveying the scorched earth.
Mum tasks him to
dig holes along the fence line. I start mending the wire
breaks while he
transplants yesterday-today-and-tomorrow shrubs to obstruct
the hawkers'
sight line. But to little effect. We remain totally exposed;
anyone can peer
straight into our inner sanctum, the little raised patio
where my parents
habitually sit on their white garden furniture and drink
their weak tea
under the jasmine pergola and read their plastic-covered
library
books.
Dad retires to his room in pain. Later that evening he calls me
in. 'Shut
the door, Pete,' he says.
Once again, he is sitting hunched
over on his bed. His arms are wreathed in
bruises from the anticoagulants,
which have also made his eyes bloodshot.
'This fire is the last bloody
straw,' he says. 'This whole place is going to
hell. I'm in so much pain
now, Pete. I've taken all my meds at once and I'm
still in pain. I think
this is the beginning of the next stage: permanent
pain. I'm not fit to go
on. My bloody memory's gone. I forget to pay bills.
We'll soon be cut off
from services. We spend over Z$500 million a month on
medications. Our
savings are gone. If it goes on like this I'm going to end
it myself. I want
you to cremate my body, Pete. Put it in a hole in the
garden for all I care.
Nothing fancy. But be sure to cremate me, I don't
want to be buried whole,
with worms eating my flesh. And you must look after
Mum. You're the only one
now who can arrange it all.'
© Peter Godwin 2007
About the
author
Peter Godwin is the author of Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa, an
account of
his youth, which won the Orwell Prize in 1996. Other publications
include
Wild at Heart: Man and Beast in Southern Africa and 'Rhodesians
Never Die':
The Impact of War and Political Change on White Rhodesia
1970-1980.
He was worked for newspapers and television and now lives in
Manhattan,
about which he has written (with Joanna Coles) The Three of Us: A
New Life
in New York.
· Extracted from When a Crocodile Eats the Sun
by Peter Godwin, to be
published by Picador on 2 March for £16.99
The
road to ruin: from Rhodesia to Zimbabwe
1923 Southern Rhodesia becomes
self-governing British colony under white
rule, excluding most black people
from the vote. Country named after Cecil
John Rhodes, whose British South
Africa Company acquired the land and huge
gold-mining rights under 1888
treaty.
1930 Land Act passed which stops Africans owning the best
farmland.
1963 Britain refuses to grant independence to Southern Rhodesia
under a
policy of No Independence Before Majority African Rule. Prime
Minister Ian
Smith calls for a Unilateral Declaration of Independence
(UDI).
1965 Smith's party wins all 50 seats reserved for white people in
elections
and declares UDI. Country now known as Rhodesia.
1965-1979
Guerrilla war as nationalist Zimbabwe African National Union
(Zanu) and
Zimbabwe African People's Union (Zapu) fight white minority rule.
1979
Constitutional Conference in London agrees new constitution,
transitional
arrangements and ceasefire.
1980 Rhodesia becomes independent and adopts
the name Zimbabwe. Robert
Mugabe's Zanu party wins election and black
majority rule is adopted. Mugabe
becomes Prime Minister of coalition
government. Violence erupts between Zanu
and Zapu. Mugabe's brutal crushing
of Zapu is seen by some as mass murder.
1988 After eight years of civil
war, Zanu and Zapu unite under Mugabe as
Zanu-PF, the PF standing for
Patriotic Front.
1990 Law enacts compulsory government purchase of half
the country's
white-owned land.
1995 and 1996 Mugabe and Zanu-PF win
further elections amid accusations of
vote-rigging and
intimidation.
1997 Blair government announces it will not continue to
compensate white
Zimbabwean farmers for land-loss.
2000 Mugabe loses
referendum on seizure of farms without compensation, so
passes amendment to
allow it. Farms taken by force. Agricultural production
becomes minimal and
economy crippled.
2002 Mugabe and Zanu-PF re-elected.
2003
Zimbabwe suspended from the Commonwealth.
2005 Mugabe's Reserve Bank
repays country's debts to International Monetary
Fund by printing about Z$21
trillion.
2006 Only 500 of the original 5,000 white farms still working,
but up to
1,000 expect to be running in 2007 after being leased back to
white farmers.
2006 Life expectancy drops from 63 to 34 for women and 37
for men in 10
years.
2007 Inflation reaches 1,594 per cent; new
national currency worthless
before any banknotes spent. 180,000 civil
servants have salaries trebled but
then demand 400 per cent increase to
raise their salary to about 52p a day.
This week, £600,000 will be spent on
Mugabe's 83rd birthday celebrations.
Katie Toms
Zim Standard
BY VALENTINE MAPONGA and
KHOLWANI NYATHI
THE High Court yesterday granted the Movement
for Democratic Change
(MDC), led by Morgan Tsvangirai, the green light to
launch their 2008
presidential campaign at the Zimbabwe Grounds in Highfield
today.
The court victory came shortly after the other faction of
the MDC, led
by Arthur Mutambara, tried to defy a police ban to hold a rally
in Bulawayo.
They were thwarted by the police as they headed for
the venue.
While the Mutambara faction opted to go ahead with their
defiance
campaign on the street, the Tsvangirai camp took their case to the
High
Court in Harare where a favourable judgement was delivered after 5PM
yesterday.
But the case, which attracted a heavy police
presence, was not without
incident.
MDC secretary-general
Tendai Biti was arrested outside the High Court
during the proceedings and
led away to Harare central police station.
Justice Anne-Marie
Goworagranted the order in her chambers yesterday
afternoon on the basis
that the police had failed to issue a proper
prohibition order in terms of
the law to bar Tsvangirai from holding the
rally. Clement Muchenga from the
Attorney-General's civil division told
journalists that the opposition MDC
had wonits case against the police.
"The judge said there was not a
proper prohibition order that was
issued by the police," said
Muchenga.
The police, according to the Public Order and Security
Act, are
empowered to prohibit any public gathering where there are
reasonable
grounds to believe the gathering would lead to public
disorder.
Jesse Majome, for the MDC, said the ruling meant the
police had been
barred from interfering with or disrupting today's
rally.
"Of course, the police have the duty to maintain law and
order and
they may be present during the rally. You also need to note that
Biti was
arrested during the proceedings and he is going back into the
police cells,"
said Majome.
The MDC on Friday filed an urgent
application against Chief
Superintendent Thomsen Toddie Jangara, the officer
commanding police Harare
South District, the Commissioner of Police,
Augustine Chihuri and the
Minister of Home of Affairs, Kembo Mohadi against
the decision to bar the
rally.
In his opposing affidavit
Jangara argued the police manpower was
depleted while MDC supporters had
violent tendencies, as the reasons for
banning the rally.
"Clearly, therefore, considering the violent tendencies of the
applicant's
supporters, coupled with the anticipated 500 000 people who
applicant says
will attend (the rally) and the depleted police manpower
available, I was
satisfied that it was only prudent to agree with applicant's
legislators to
postpone the rally to a more convenient date, as we did,"
wrote
Jangara.
One anguished senior police officer was clearly not happy
with the
judge's ruling.
Zim Standard
By John
Mokwetsi
RESIDENT Robert Mugabe will disturb the serene
environs of Gweru when
his noisy contingent invades the city on 24 February
to wine and dine as
they celebrate the octogenarian's 83rd
birthday.
The party is known to run until the following day with
taxpayers'
money disappearing in food and drink as people take advantage of
the old man's
rare generosity at this time of the year.
But for
Viomak, Mugabe's staunch musical critic, giving the president
a gift through
his representative in the United Kingdom, Gabriel Machinga,
on the day will
be a moment to savour.
In a telephone interview with Standardplus
from the United Kingdom,
Viomak said she would be officially launching her
latest album Happy 83rd
Birthday-Bones of a 30- year-old, in London at
Zimbabwe House on 24
February.
She said: "I phoned the
Zimbabwean Ambassador to the UK, Gabriel
Machinga to find out if he could
attend and I am waiting for confirmation. I
would like to give him the music
so that he can deliver it to President
Mugabe."
She will be
teaming up with pressure group, Vigil Zimbabwe on the
launch.
The album comes as a follow-up to her debut album Happy 82nd Birthday
President R.G Mugabe (Diaspora classics1: Emotions of the emotionless)
released last year.
Viomak said the official launch of the
latest production is slated to
coincide with Mugabe's birthday.
The album is loaded with traditional attacks on Mugabe's presidency
and his
reluctance to relinquish power at a time when economic and political
woes
continue to bewilder many a Zimbabwean.
Songs on the album include
Arise and Fight, A Man in Zimbabwe, Gono
bvisa Father Zero, Ipaiwo Vasina,
Tererai Mwari, Mangwanani Baba, Mugabe
Usambozvinyengedza and Inzwa
Mugabe.
The title of the album was inspired by Mugabe's 90-minute
interview
with ZTV's Newsnet which was also broadcast on radio in February
last year
on his birthday during which he revealed that contrary to fears
over his
health, he felt like a young man, was as fit as a fiddle, that his
doctors
had told him he had "the bones of a 30-year-old", and would like to
live
another 82 years.
Zim Standard
By Caiphas
Chimhete
SIX municipal police officers, eager to confiscate
vendors' wares in
Kambuzuma last week, fled for their lives after women and
children attacked
them with stones, sticks and empty bottles.
The officers, who were not in uniform and driving a light blue council
vehicle, arrived at Kambuzuma Section 5 around 6PM and started confiscating
commodities from the vendors.
But the vendors noted that the
officers were targeting bars of washing
soap and cooking oil, leaving
vegetables, eggs and mangoes.
The vendors seemed convinced these
were "rogue" officers, out to make
a "killing" by confiscating scarce
commodities from the vendors, possibly
with a view to selling them for their
own profit.
Once they had come to this conclusion, the vendors then
ganged up and
started stoning the municipal policemen.
They
found unexpected allies when men quaffing their beer at nearby
bottle
stores, joined in the stoning spree.
The officers took to their
heels.
Efforts by commuter omnibus drivers to block the vehicle
were in vain
as it roared off at high speed, forcing pedestrians, among them
frightened
children, to jump off the road.
A woman who sells
washing soap at the shops, said later: "I suspected
they had finished work
because they were not in uniform. The fact that they
targeted only expensive
goods raised my suspicion."
The officers apparently managed to
escape with a few bars of soap and
a bottle of cooking oil.
The
vendors, who asked not to be named for fear of reprisals, accused
the
poorly-paid municipal police officers of confiscating their wares to
help
sustain their families during these hard times.
Most doubted there
was any criminal intent, as most of the officers
earn as little as $100 000
a month, although the poverty datum line is now
pegged at $500
000.
An old woman, who said she was celebrating the flight of the
police
officers from pursuing vendors, said:"There is no clear policy on
what they
do with our goods and we have come to the conclusion that they
grab the
vegetables and tomatoes to cook for their families in these
difficult
times."
Others said some of the municipal police
officers were now targeting
scarce commodities, instead of the vegetables
and tomatoes they confiscated
in the past.
The reason was still
that they wanted to supplement their meagre
incomes and feed their
families.
A public relations officer with Harare City Council, Jane
Pasipanodya,
said the council would investigate the incident.
After confiscating vendors' goods, municipal officers are supposed to
surrender them to the police to be auctioned, if they are not claimed by
their owners.
But in these hard times, most of the goods are
reportedly shared among
officers who take them home to their
families.
Zim Standard
By Godfrey
Mutimba
VOTER apathy and confusion marred yesterday's by
election in Chiredzi
South as thousands of voters stayed away from the
polls.
Utloile Silaigwana, the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission
spokesperson,
could not be reached for comment yesterday afternoon, but
there was low
turnout at various polling stations in the constituency, which
has over 45
000 registered voters.
Several polling stations
visited by The Standard had less than 200
people casting their votes by 1
PM.
The turnout was a snub for Zanu PF whose senior officials,
including
the two Vice-Presidents Joseph Msika and Joice Mujuru, had only
days earlier
descended on the constituency and urged voters to turn out in
their
thousands to give the ruling party a resounding victory.
Both addressed rallies reportedly well-attended by eager, dancing
party
supporters.
At Tambuka primary school in Chilonga area only 15
people had cast
their votes by noon and the situation was almost the same at
many other
polling stations.
The Shangani people in Chiredzi
South had earlier threatened to
boycott the polls after Zanu PF imposed
Killian Gwanetsa, a Karanga from
Charumbira communal lands near Masvingo, as
candidate.
Many MDC supporters, confused by the rivalry between
Morgan Tsvangirai
and Arthur Mutambara-led Movement for Democratic Change
factions also chose
to stay home.
Some MDC election agents were
turned away and only managed to enter
the polling stations after noon
because they were not accredited.
They were only allowed after
officials from the Zimbabwe Election
Commission (ZEC) instructed the
presiding officers to let them in.
A presiding officer at Chireya
primary school, Davison Nhuka,
confirmed the low turnout at the polling
station.
"Less than 50 people have cast their votes here. The
turnout is
generally low but I think the situation will improve later," he
said.
Gillian Dare, an observer for the British Embassy, told The
Standard
very few people had turned out for the elections at various
stations visited
by her team.
"The turnout at various polling
stations we visited was extremely low.
I think this is a case of voter
apathy," Dare said.
Local observers from the Zimbabwe Election
Support Network (Zesn) also
expressed concern over the low
turnout.
Zesn monitoring and observation officer, Denford Bere,
said: "The
people of Chiredzi South showed no interest in the by-election.
The turnout
was very, very low. We have not ascertained the reasons for the
low
turnout."
Zim Standard
BY OUR STAFF
BULAWAYO - Rural business operators have taken the
Gwanda rural
district council in Matabeleland South province to court
seeking to reverse
tariff increases of over 1 000% implemented at the
beginning of the year.
The operators say the charges will choke the
life out of their
operations in communal areas.
Gwanda becomes
the second rural district council in the province to be
taken to court by
disgruntled ratepayers over tariffs, after Matopo rural
district
council.
The rural business operators argue that the country's
spectacular
economic decline has severely eroded the viability of their
businesses.
Last December, the Zanu PF-dominated Gwanda RDC
unanimously adopted
the budget that will see general dealers, grinding mill
owners and green
grocers paying $75 000 a month in rates. The operators used
to pay $300.
In an application for a review of the budget lodged at
the High Court
in Bulawayo, the Gwanda Business Association (GBA),
representing villagers
with business interests in the drought-prone
district, said the tariffs "are
unsustainable for a rural
community".
In his founding affidavit, the association's
representative, Remond
Mauba, said the budget was imposed on residents and
the "approved tariffs
are grossly unreasonable and
counter-development".
"In fact the decision by the respondent is
unilateral and was reached
without giving us an opportunity to be heard,"
Mauba said. "There was no
consultation by the councillors before the tariffs
were advertised."
He said objections to the budget made by the
association were ignored
by the council.
In a letter signed by
the Gwanda RDC's chief executive officer, Ronnie
Sibanda, acknowledging the
objections, the council said it had no intention
of revising the
tariffs.
"While council sympathises with the concerns raised, it is
also faced
with the same economic hardships and it is expected to deliver
its mandate
of development," Sibanda wrote.
The RDC is opposing
the application through its lawyer, Thamsanqa
Khumalo of James, Moyo-Majwabu
and Nyoni law firm.
It argues that the Rural District Councils Act
does not require local
authorities to consult on their budgets. The
villagers are represented by
Cheda and Partners.
Last week,
Sibanda said he could not comment on the case as "it is sub
judice"
A similar case between the Matopo Indigenous Business
Development
Association and the Matopo RDC is pending before the Supreme
Court in
Harare.
Zim Standard
BY OUR STAFF
MUTARE - Edgar Tekere has vowed threats to expel him from Zanu PF over
candid revelations in his "tell-all" autobiography, A Lifetime of
Struggle,would not silence him.
Tekere's fate is to be decided
by the Zanu PF presidium, after calls
to expel him from the party,
particularly over his assertion that he guided
President Robert Mugabe's
ascendancy to the leadership of the party.
At a recent function at
the Mutare Press Club, Tekere said he wanted
to remind Zimbabweans not to be
fooled by Mugabe.
He said Mugabe was so worried about crimes
against humanity committed
during the so-called Gukurahundi disturbances
that he would never cede
power.
Mugabe deployed the North
Korean-trained 5 Brigade in most parts of
Matabelelandand and the Midlands
during the early 80s where they massacred
more than 20 000 people. The 5
Brigade's activities have been
well-documented by international human rights
organisations.
"Mugabe is afraid of his crimes," Tekere said."If he
leaves office we
will have another Charles Taylor incident. So, if Mugabe
sits down and
thinks of the Gukurahundi era, he will never step
down."
Taylor was arrested in Nigeria last year and was transferred
to The
Hague where he is being charged with crimes against humanity before a
United
Nations-backed International Criminal Tribunal.
Tekere
said those involved in organising the Gukurahundi operation
should never be
forgiven.
"Certain atrocities should not be swept under the carpet.
Those
involved must own up for their crimes," Tekere said, adding: "I am
against
the idea of a blanket amnesty."
The opposition, led by
Morgan Tsvangirai, has in the past suggested
that Mugabe should be given
amnesty for any wrongs he may have committed
during his rule, should he
leave office honourably.
Mugabe has previously described the
operation as a "moment of madness"
without revealing who had gone
mad.
Mugabe recently urged Zimbabweans to ignore Tekere, saying he
was no
longer in the right frame of mind. He was quoted in the
government-run
SundayMail as suggesting Tekere was now
"insane".
Mugabe was dismissing claims by Tekere, in the book, that
he paved the
way for Mugabe's rise to power.
At the Mutare
Press Club meeting,Tekere said Retired General Solomon
Mujuru, despite being
at the helm of the military forces in Zimbabwe during
theMatabeleland
disturbances, was sidelined from the Gukurahundi operation.
"Rex
Nhongo who was in charge of the army that time was not aware of
the
(Gukurahundi) operation. He was sidelined."
Mujuru, known by his
Chimurenga name of Rex Nhongo, was sidelined
because the operation "needed
cruel people".
Tekere vowed he would fight "tooth and nail" to
prevent any politician
involved in the Gukurahundi massacres from ascending
to the country's
presidency.
Zim Standard
By Nqobani
Ndlovu
BULAWAYO - After leading violent assaults on ordinary
people for
protesting against government, war veterans are now tasting Zanu
PF's bitter
medicine - their children are getting kicked out of school
because the
cash-strapped government has stopped paying their
fees.
Disgruntled former freedom fighters told The Standard last
week they
were angry with the government for not paying the fees, part of
their
pension benefits approved 10 years ago.
Most of the
children are dropping out of school.
In 1997, the government bowed
to pressure from militant war veterans
led by the late Chenjerai "Hitler"
Hunzvi and awarded the former fighters
hefty gratuities of $50 000 each and
monthly pensions.
In addition, the government pledged to pay for
the ex-combatants'
children's fees from primary to tertiary
levels.
The funds were disbursed by the Ministry of Public Service,
Labour and
Social Welfare.
Former Zimbabwe National Liberation
War Veterans' Association (ZNLWA)
leader, Andrew Ndlovu, confirmed the
government had not honoured its pledge
on the school fees.
Ndlovu was tasked by President Robert Mugabe to reorganise the
association
after the expulsion of its leaders in 2005,
"I am one of the few
beneficiaries and our children are being chased
away from school for not
paying fees as the funds are not being released,"
said a bitter
Ndlovu.
"The system where we access the funds through the ministry
before
going to pay the fees must be changed to allow schools to deal
directly with
the government and allow our children to attend
classes.
"We have submitted forms for educational assistance but
the Ministry
has been quiet as to when they are releasing the funds, arguing
that they
want to first reach a specific number before they disburse the
funds."
Spokesperson for the ZNLWA Bulawayo chapter, Velaphi Ncube,
confirmed
the crisis: "Some of our comrades' children have dropped out of
school
altogether as they can't afford the fees."
The
allowances are determined by the level of fees demanded by schools
and
tertiary institutions and are given to children of war veterans
successfully
vetted.
The Minister of Public Service, Labour and Social Welfare,
Nicholas
Goche, refused to comment on the matter.
"If the war
veterans have complaints they should approach me and not
(news) papers which
do not pay them."
Dumiso Dabengwa, one of a three-member committee
appointed by Mugabe
to look into the affairs of war veterans, said he was
not aware of the
problem and promised to investigate.
Last
month, the government increased war veterans' monthly pensions
from $25 000
to $100 000 a month. But the former fighters dismissed the
pensions as a
"pittance", with Ndlovu saying they were only "enough for
beer".
Zim Standard
By Kholwani
Nyathi
BULAWAYO - Property worth millions of dollars belonging
to the
beleaguered government-owned media group, New Ziana was recently
auctioned
to recover $1 million owed by the organisation to a local security
company.
The property included two wooden cabinets, a similar
number of metal
cabinets and a Honda motorbike, all auctioned by the Deputy
Sheriff on
Thursday morning 11 days ago.
This was after New
Ziana failed to pay Homeguard Services for security
services provided at the
media group's Bulawayo offices last year.
The debt accrued last
year and sources said the company's head office
had been ignoring letters
from Homeguard Services demanding payment until
the security company
terminated its services.
According to one of the letters from
Homeguard Services' lawyers,
Cheda and Partners, seen by The Standard, New
Ziana had offered to pay the
money in two installments between January and
this month but the offer was
rejected.
In a last-ditch attempt
to save the property, the company paid $166
000 on Wednesday 12 days ago but
it was too late to save the office
equipment and the motor bike from the
hammer.
"No one tried to stop the auction so it went ahead," said
Mlamuli
Ncube of Cheda and Partners.
The auction came barely a
few days after New Ziana was ordered to
award its news agency workers 70%
salary increments backdated to March 2005
with an interest of 30% a year by
an arbitrator.
The arbitrator, George Nasho Wilson, also ruled that
New Ziana must
give its workers an additional 180% salary increment
backdated to October
2006 with interest.
New Ziana was created
after the controversial merger of the Zimbabwe
Inter-Africa News Agency
(ZIANA) and the Community Newspapers Group (CNG)
during former Minister of
Information and Publicity Jonathan Moyo's tenure.
Since last year
the group has been forced to close down three of its
community newspapers
namely The City Courier ( Bulawayo ), Indokusakusa
(Matabeleland North) and
Harare Post ( Harare ) due to viability problems.
Zim Standard
BY OUR
STAFF
OVER 40 students were arrested last week as police
clamped down on
students protesting against the high fees and the
deteriorating education
system.
The peaceful boycott which
started last Tuesday at colleges around the
country was disrupted by the
police who rounded up their leaders.
Zimbabwe National Students
Union (ZINASU) Secretary-General Beloved
Chiweshe said they were embarking
on a "class boycott" to press for
affordable fees in tertiary
institutions.
State universities are now demanding up to $700 000
for a semester.
"Our primary demand is for us to meet the
government officials so that
we can deliberate on the students' grievances,"
said Chiweshe. "We also want
the students to be given grants that are higher
than their fees so they can
buy other materials like
stationery."
Chiweshe said over 40 students had been arrested on
allegations of
inciting the boycotts. Among them is ZINASU president Promise
Mkwananzi and
secretary general, Maureen Kademaunga.
The two
were picked up at Harare Polytechnic as they attended a
students' general
meeting last week.
Also arrested was Students Christian Movement of
Zimbabwe chairman,
Lawrence Mashungu.
Commenting on the
arrests, Tineyi Mukwewa, University of Zimbabwe SRC
president said: "The
Zimbabwean government, through the police and army, has
become paranoid as
evidenced by the widespread arrests, detention and
torture of innocent
citizens. The government has failed to arrest well-known
corrupt public
officials but has seen it fit to expose innocent students to
the criminal
environment of police cells."
Meanwhile, the University of Zimbabwe
(UZ) male students filed and won
an urgent High Court application against
the college authorities' decision
to offer on campus accommodation to female
students only.
High Court Judge Justice Yunus Omerjee ordered the
university to
receive applications from all male students seeking
accommodation in the
halls of residence on the campus.
Omerjee
directed forthwith the UZ to receive applications from all
male students for
accommodation at Montrose, Georgette, Manfred Hodson Hall,
New Hall, New
Complex 1, New Complex 5, Teachers' Hostel, Mount Royal
Residence and
Parirenyatwa Medical School Residence.
"The University of Zimbabwe
be and is hereby directed to consider all
applicants for accommodation in a
fair and transparent manner," ordered
Omerjee.
Wednesday's
ruling followed a notice published in The Sunday Mail of 4
February by the
University of Zimbabwe stating that as a result of policy
changes, all male
and local students no longer have campus accommodation for
the coming
semester.
Rangu Nyamurundira of the Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human
Rights, who
represented the male students, said: "The changes effectively
discriminated
against male students who constitute 67% of the student
population by
denying them any accommodation."
He said such
discrimination was in clear violation of Section 23 of
the Constitution of
Zimbabwe and Section 5 of the University of Zimbabwe
Act.
Zim Standard
BY OUR STAFF
POLICE last week reportedly beat up elderly women and widows
demonstrating
against high rentals in St Mary's suburb in Chitungwiza.
The women,
most of them widows and grand-mothers who look after
children orphaned by
Aids were protesting against the high rentals and the
water
bills.
The protest ended in chaos as the police, armed with batons,
descended
on the demonstrators and beat them up. Five women were
arrested.
Police spokesman, Assistant Commissioner Wayne Bvudzijena
confirmed
the police had thwarted the demonstration, saying it had not been
sanctioned
by the police.
Under the much-criticised Public
Order and Security Act (POSA), no
public demonstration is allowed unless it
has been approved by the police.
"The residents marched after being
addressed by (Job) Sikhala and we
are looking for him so that he can assist
us with our inquiries," Bvudzijena
said.
Sikhala, the St Mary's
Member of Parliament speaking by telephone from
an undisclosed location,
told The Standard that Maria Nyamukapa, in her late
60s, was beaten up
severely by the anti-riot police, among them female
officers.
The woman was rushed to Chitungwiza General Hospital, where she was
admitted
with serious injuries.
Zim Standard
By Kholwani
Nyathi
BULAWAYO - The government might be forced to backtrack
on its decision
to allow the Zimbabwe National Water Authority (ZINWA) to
take over Bulawayo
city council's water infrastructure as a result of
mounting political
pressure and a spirited resistance by residents, it
emerged yesterday.
Last month, ZINWA wrote to the council,
instructing it to hand over
its billing system and an inventory of
infrastructure in preparation for an
immediate takeover.
This
sparked fierce resistance from residents, who fear the takeover
could result
in the same chaos which overtook Harare after ZINWA moved in.
But
faced with mounting opposition, Water Resources and Infrastructure
Development minister, Munacho Mutezo last week told Bulawayo councillors
that the "takeover will now be done gradually and after
consultations".
Mutezo, who travelled to the city to discuss the
issue, admitted at a
highly-charged meeting with the councillors and the
mayor, Japhet
Ndabeni-Ncube, on Monday that the Cabinet had erred in issuing
the directive
without consultations.
His admission indicated a
major climb-down by the government,
following pronouncements that the
takeover was not negotiable.
This was after the Bulawayo Zanu PF
province led the resistance to the
takeover.
The Standard
understands that earlier, the Zanu PF provincial
co-ordinating committee had
told the minister at a closed-door meeting that
they were prepared to join
the growing opposition lobby against ZINWA.
They accused Mutezo of
ordering the takeover without consulting them
or Bulawayo
residents.
It is understood the Zanu PF heavyweights fear a voter
backlash in the
council elections due later this year if ZINWA is eventually
allowed to take
over.
"We resolved that the issue must be taken
back to the Central
Committee because we believe proper consultations were
not made before the
directive for the planned takeover," said provincial
spokesman, Effort
Nkomo. "Obviously he (Mutezo) can't reverse the decision
on his own because
it was a collective cabinet decision and that is why
these consultations
have to be done first."
Zanu PF officials
told Mutezo the takeover of the water and sewer
system would not be allowed
to go ahead before the government connected the
idle Mtshabezi Dam to the
city's water supply network.
ZINWA was only allocated $30 billion
for the project, against the more
than US$3 million required.
The business community, lawyers and civic groups, sceptical of ZINWA's
ability to provide the city with clean water, have all pledged material and
moral support to the Bulawayo United Residents Association (BURA)'s campaign
against the takeover.
The council has said it would resist
interference by ZINWA in the
management of its water and sewer system,
saying it will deprive it of 40%
of its annual revenue and cripple service
delivery.
The council says it is empowered by the Urban Councils
Act and the
Public Health Act to provide the services while the ZINWA Act
restricts the
parastatal to the provision of bulk water.
The
immediate past president of the Law Society of Zimbabwe, Joseph
James, told
a recent public meeting organised by BURA that the council
should first
exhaust political channels in resisting the takeover "but it
will be a
strange lawyer or judge" who would uphold the cabinet directive.
The issue has divided Zanu PF, with politburo member Dumiso Dabengwa
clashing with President Robert Mugabe over ZINWA's involvement.
BURA is also lobbying Zanu PF heavyweights in the province, including
Vice-President Joseph Msika, to oppose the takeover.
Zim Standard
BY OUR
CORRESPONDENT
MUTARE - The Mutare city council's town clerk, Dr
Morgan Chawawa,
resigned two weeks ago, apparently after failing to land the
vacant Harare
town clerk's job.
Chawawa had been short-listed
for the Harare job, which fell vacant
after the dismissal of Nomutsa
Chideya.
The government-appointed commission now running Mutare,
led by Fungai
Chaeruka, has accepted Chawawa's resignation.
He
had held the job for four years and is understood to be bound for
"greener
pastures" in Botswana.
Chaeruka confirmed Chawawa had handed in his
resignation, but would
not reveal the reasons, referring further questions
to the former town
clerk.
"He is leaving for greener pastures,
and we have accepted his
resignation. We have forwarded it to the Minister
(Ignatious Chombo). We
wish him the best wherever he is going," Chaeruka
said.
As with Harare, the first council to be run by a
government-appointed
commission after its opposition MDC-dominated council
was dismissed; Mutare
has faced serious service delivery
problems.
Chawawa himself could not be reached for comment.
Zim Standard
BY OUR
STAFF
ZIMBABWE was last week frantically putting its house in
order to stave
off a flight of prospective investors from India and China
"tired of waiting
in vain".
Standardbusiness reported last week
that at least 20 prospective
investors had besieged the parliamentary
portfolio committee on Foreign
Affairs, Industry and International
Trade.
They were apparently fed up with the delay in processing
their
applications, blamed largely on the absence of the Zimbabwe Investment
Authority (ZIA) board.
ZIA is a product of the Zimbabwe
Investment Act, providing for the
establishment of a one-stop investment
shop to implement promotion of
decentralisation of investment activities and
supervising the implementation
of approved projects.
The ZIA
board is responsible for scrutinising, recommending and
registering
investors.
Foreign Affairs, Industry and International Trade
portfolio committee
chairperson Enock Porusingazi told Standardbusiness last
week a subcommittee
sent to meet Christian Katsande, the ministry's
permanent secretary, was
told the board was being constituted.
The subcommittee was led by newly - appointed Economic Development
deputy
minister Aguy Georgias and included Gweru Urban MP Timothy Mukahlera
and
Mutare-Mutasa Senator Mandy Chimene.
"The subcommittee was told the
board is being worked on. There were
some delays in the constitution of the
board because CVs (curriculum vitaes)
came late," Porusingazi
said.
He said the subcommittee had found out that when the CVs
came, the
minister, Obert Mpofu was not in the office.
ZIA was
formed after the promulgation of the Zimbabwe Investment Act,
assented to by
President Robert Mugabe last month.
Under the Act, there should be
an 11-member board appointed by the
Minister of Industry and International
Trade in consultation with the
President.
The board would be
required to submit reports to the minister on its
operations and other
issues as the minister may require.
An investment committee would
be set up to recommend to the board the
approval or rejection of application
for investment licences.
Zim Standard
BY OUR
STAFF
RESERVE Bank of Zimbabwe (RBZ) governor Gideon Gono has
joined in the
chorus of condemnation of the arrest of business executives,
insisting it is
inimical to the attainment of his proposed road map to
recovery.
Gono was speaking on Friday at a meeting during which his
proposed
social contract was debated.
He said the arrests would
not achieve the intended goals of the social
contract he espoused in his
monetary policy statement review last month.
"Arresting each other
does not produce the road map which we want to
see," he said.
Two business executives, Mike Manga of Blue Ribbon Industries and Ian
Kind
of National Foods were arrested early this month for increasing the
price of
flour, allegedly without government approval.
In fact, the duo had
sought permission to raise the price and were yet
to do so.
Responding to submissions by Zimbabwe National Chamber of Commerce
(ZNCC)
President Marah Hativagone that executives from parastatals were
being
spared in the wave of arrests Gono said " two wrongs do not make a
right".
"When members of our society have inadvertently stepped
out of line we
need to dialogue with them before arrests," he
said.
Friday's meeting discussed how the social contract would be
implemented. Hativagone said there was need for commitment and honesty among
members for the social contract to bear fruit.
Zim Standard
By Nqobani
Ndlovu
BULAWAYO - The Zimbabwe Miners' Federation (ZMF) says
the majority of
small-scale miners will not resume operations in the
aftermath of a
government blitz, code-named Operation Chikorokoza
Chapera.
In the aftermath, the Environmental Management Agency
(EMA) has set
"exorbitant licensing fees" for miners in the informal
sector.
The police shut down small-scale mines and arrested over
250
registered miners during the clampdown.
They also
confiscated several tonnes of gold ore and mining equipment
worth millions
of dollars.
About 30 000 miners, including illegal panners, were
arrested during
the operation, which has opened a can of worms with the
miners claiming top
politicians were involved in illicit mining
activities.
The EMA announced last week it would be compulsory for
the affected
miners to attain an impact assessment certificate and pay a $1
million
review fee before they are allowed to resume
operations.
Consultants assisting in the assessment should fork out
$2.5 million.
The miners are required to obtain a management plan
from the EMA for
land rehabilitation and licenses from the Ministry of Mines
and Mining
Development as well as the Ministry of Environment and
Tourism.
But ZMF president, George Kawonza, said the association
feared for the
future of its members as they had not been operating since
the blitz began
last November.
Zim Standard
BY OUR
STAFF
MOBILE operator Econet Wireless will see its subscriber
capacity
increased tenfold to 10 million following the introduction of the
new
numbering plan next Wednesday, the company has said.
The
new numbering plan will result in the addition of a 2 after the
first three
numbers (091).
Isaiah Nyangari Econet's general manager (Marketing)
said last week
the current numbering plan restricts the company to a million
subscribers.
"Econet is the fastest-growing network following
recent network
upgrade and continues to grow," he said. "However, the
current numbering
plan restricts us to a maximum of one million
subscribers.
"The new numbering plan will allow us to grow to at
least 10 million
subscribers."
Econet has 800 000 subscribers
and commands 60% of the market share.
Darlington Mandivenga, the
Econet chief marketing officer, said this
made it possible to spread costs
over a wider base.
All existing numbers will be changed after
midnight of 26 February
with the new numbers operating concurrently with the
old ones for two weeks.
Nyangari said Eriksson engineers had worked
on the project and an
in-house test project started over six months
ago.
The United Kingdom and Greece put an additional digit on their
numbers
in 1993 and 2001 respectively, which Nyangari said faced a few
hurdles as
there was no effective communication strategy to the
subscribers.
Mandivenga said Econet would pursue its expansion
programme, adding
that "size really matters and we are translating that size
to the benefits
of the users".
Econet is currently on an
expansion programme bankrolled by the US$14
million purse received after
selling the Mascom stake and a US$20 million
shot in the arm loan from the
Cairo-based Afreximbank.
Zim Standard
BY OUR STAFF
ZIMBABWE will not send a delegation to the International Monetary Fund's
(IMF) executive board meeting on Friday as it battles to put its economic
house in order, it has emerged.
Information gathered by
Standardbusiness indicates that Zimbabwe had
an option of sending a
representative and had delegated Peter Gakunu,
executive director of Africa
Group One to represent the country at the
indaba.
But sources
said last week Zimbabwe felt it needed to devote its time
to introducing the
economic reforms outlined in the proposed road map to
recovery announced by
the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe, Governor, Gideon Gono
last month.
"It's standard practice that if you are not attending, you will send a
representative," said a source privy to the modalities at the Bretton Woods
institution. "In the case of Zimbabwe, they felt that economic reforms were
more important. That is why Gakunu has been chosen as a
representative."
Gakunu is Economic Secretary in Kenya's Ministry
of Finance and
Planning. He had a stint with the African Caribbean and
Pacific (ACP) Group
of countries as chief, Economic and Trade Cooperation
Division at the
General Secretariat.
Gono confirmed Zimbabwe
would not be at the conference, insisting
there was nothing unsual about
this.
"It is not always necessary for Zimbabwe to be present at the
IMF
Executive Board meeting," he said. "There is an established mechanism
which
permits a country to send an executive director to represent
them."
Zimbabwe, in continuous arrears to the balance of payments
institution
since 2001, cleared its arrears under the critical General
Resources Account
(GRA) last year in a last gasp effort that spared the
country the axe from
the 184-member organisation.
Zimbabwe
still has substantial overdue obligations to the Poverty
Reduction and
Growth Facility (PRGF)-Exogenous Shocks Facility Trust of
US$119 million.
But it remains banned from exercising its voting and
borrowing
powers.
Zim Standard
Comment
THE government is good at fingering other
people as the real economic
saboteurs. But it has been doing its best
recently to wreak havoc on the
economy.
If the government is
serious about how scarce foreign currency should
be spent, then it should
lead by example.
In December Zanu PF's economic affairs committee
secretary, Richard
Hove, told the ruling party's national conference in
Goromonzi that his
committee was concerned by the influx of flashy cars on
the country's roads
when industry is battling to access foreign currency for
raw materials and
spares procurement. Hundreds of companies, he lamented,
had closed down
since 2000 as a result of the rampant abuse of foreign
currency.
Ever since the Goromonzi conference, there has been a
concerted effort
to shift the blame for foreign currency scarcities onto
individuals
importing vehicles. This is an attempt to provide justification
for yet
another government "operation" presaging a raft of punitive measures
against
vehicle importers.
The recent decision by the central
bank allowing Zimbabweans to
receive foreign currency from relatives outside
the country is in part a
response to this development and an admission that
the public does not
support an artificial exchange rate regimen and has no
confidence in such
vehicles as the Homelink.
The government is
unhappy that Zimbabweans or their relatives abroad
are able to afford
vehicle imports worth an estimated US$440 000 a day from
Japan, Singapore,
the UK, US and Dubai, while it is unable to access it.
Clearly, not content
with the already high levels of interference, the
government would like to
determine how Zimbabweans use their foreign
currency, but that no one should
tell it what to do with the scarce foreign
exchange.
The
government dislikes subjecting itself to the prescription it
decrees for
others. Most MPs, Senators, government ministers as well as
officials
running parastatals -the National Social Security Authority
immediately
comes to mind - drive the latest imported vehicles.
It costs less
than US$20 000 for a top-of-the-range 4x4 vehicle
produced by Willowvale
Mazda Motor Industries, yet the trucks that
legislators, government
officials and parastatal managers drive command
prices that range well above
Willowvale's, with an additional duty amounting
to at least Z$10
million.
Yet if the government was committed to the judicious use
of hard
currency, there would be a Cabinet directive instructing purchase of
locally
assembled vehicles.
There would be more foreign
currency for industries and other critical
sectors such as health, while
Willowvale Mazda plant would bring its
operations, almost to capacity level.
In beefing up production at the
vehicle assembly plant, vast employment
opportunities would be created both
at the plant and downstream
industries.
There would be a lead time of several months to allow
shipment and to
take delivery of the kits from Japan, but with adequate
allocation of the
foreign currency, the plant would be able to build up its
stock of kits to
ensure continuous production.
But Zimbabwe
should take a leaf out of the French and the Italians'
books, where the
political leadership drives locally-assembled vehicles. The
Proudly
Zimbabwean/ Buy Zimbabwe campaign rings hollow, when government
exhorts the
population to buy Zimbabwean while it is busy doing the
opposite.
Zim Standard
sunday view by Charles
Robertson
I will attempt to enlighten everyone as to what has
really happened to
Zimbabwe cricket as I was removed from office by
unconstitutional
manoeuvring, and will attempt to summarise events leading
to the position we
are in today.
We achieved Test Status in
1992. Fundraising functions were held to
achieve our goals. We did not have
funds now garnered as a Full Test Playing
Nation. Test Status was achieved
from humble beginnings and we now talk of
needing time to rebuild despite
the enormous income generated by having Test
Status! We are only rebuilding
what has been destroyed by incompetent
administration!
In 1999
a place in the Super 6 section was achieved at the World Cup
creating
euphoria amongst the cricket fraternity, an emphatic announcement
that
Zimbabwe had arrived.
In 2001 a draft Integration Plan was
implemented, heralding
involvement of non-cricketers in cricket
administration, now generating
substantial income.
In 2004 the
Integration Committee of non-cricketers started
interfering with the
selection process culminating the so-called "Rebel
Cricketers" actions of
2004.
Makoni, Mandenge, Sembeseya, Mukandiwa and Mangongo held a
meeting in
KweKwe in July 2005, to discuss concerns about the state of the
game,
governance, club support and non-cricket expenditure. A unanimous
decision
was made that action was needed to save cricket. I advised if we
started
something we should be prepared to finish it! Zimbabwe Cricket now
employs
four of these men excluding Sembeseya! Have they now sold their
souls for
monetary remuneration at the expense of the game they were
originally
concerned about?
In September 2005 Zimbabwe Cricket
players voicing concerns on issues
of poor governance, financial
mismanagement and constitutional flouting
approached us former cricket
administrators.
At the end of 2005 Provincial Associations compiled
a list of
allegations for Peter Chingoka, copied to the ICC. Chingoka merely
fobbed
this off.
Provincial Boards then submitted queries
asking for financial
accountability. The ZC orchestrated interference with
provinces in an
attempt to oust the democratically elected Boards, and
replace them with
"hand-picked" boards.
The Zimbabwe Sport and
Recreation Commission (ZSRC), in November 2005,
started to exert pressure on
existing Boards to form five new provinces, an
attempt to water down the
existing provincial votes.
In November 2005 support was solicited
from the International Cricket
Council (ICC) by way of a letter requesting
assistance in putting pressure
on the ZCU to produce a Forensic Audit,
together with a mediation request to
get all parties together to prevent
total collapse of structures, as the
lowering of playing standards would
bring the integrity of the game into
question.
In March 2006
another letter was sent to the ICC in a final attempt to
garner ICC support
as the ZSRC had moved to disband all legitimately elected
boards, and create
new provinces, in total disregard of the existing
constitution and in spite
of a ZSRC statement that all things should happen
provided they are done
"constitutionally".
A committee was set up at the end of 2005 by
the ZSRC to investigate
allegations, headed by Assistant Commissioner
Siwela. A damning report
against ZC was produced with their recommendations.
The Minister of
Education Sport and Culture overruled their recommendations
and implemented
the exact opposite. Board members asking for accountability
from ZC were
removed and replaced by non-cricketers.
ZC
appointed a local auditing company in January 2006 to conduct a
forensic
audit, not produced to date. Financial accounts for 2005 and 2006
have yet
to be produced. No AGM was held in 2006. A new Board, with no
discernable
cricket pedigree, has now been bulldozed through at a hastily
convened
Special General Meeting, held on 29 December 2006, without
prerequisite
notice and in direct contravention of the new constitution only
approved by
the ZSRC a few weeks previously.
The ICC President and CEO visited
Zimbabwe in August 2006 and met ZC
and stakeholders, and frankly discussed
all topics raised. ZC suspended
itself from Test Cricket at the end of 2005,
since extended to November
2007. The ICC President made it clear to ZC that
the new Board, when
legitimately constituted, should be inclusive rather
than exclusive.
The ZC SGM on 29 December 2006 was held
unilaterally without inviting
the provinces to hold their own SGM's as a
prelude to a ZC SGM, to enable
the already handpicked Board to be elected
unopposed.
Where does that leave us now? No internal first class
competition, a
test status prerequisite, during 2006. Normal events,
particularly in the
youth development programmes were either cancelled or
held against weaker
opposition.
Is this what we have become in
14 years of Test Cricket!
In an interview with the Zimbabwe
Independent on 8 September 2006
Chingoka said that the game of cricket was
on its feet.
No Peter the game is on its knees!