My friend told me how her brother (who lives in Harare) took his 7 year old daughter to an orthodontist yesterday. He was informed that they do not accept medical aid and that he would need in the region of $35 million CASH for the appointment and compulsory x-ray. He was quoted a further $380 million for one set of braces for his daughter. He cannot afford the appointment fee, let alone the x-ray and braces. He has been paying medical aid (private hospital cover) for his daughter since she was born. Not much good now when some medical practitioners are refusing to accept it because they do not want to have to wait for the medical aid companies to reimburse them. He asked if they would give him credit facilities and was turned down. Cash upfront or nothing.

With the value of our dollar literally deteriorating by the day, fees charged have to be paid on the day of service or else the practitioner loses money.

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, inflation, health, orthodontist

This story comes from a close friend. It grabbed my attention immediately, not just because he is a friend, but because the depth of his caring has helped reinforce my belief that there is hope for us all yet.

Some years ago, he employed a gardener called Simon. He was a rare breed – one of those people that you like as soon as you meet them. Over the years I got to know him quite well on visits to my friend’s home, and on the odd occasion when he came to help us out with a special task. He was the proverbial gem – polite and hardworking, with an air of wisdom about him. It was surely one of God’s unfathomable mysteries that had made him accept the menial post of gardener.

After about five years, Simon was summoned by his father. His father was a Veteran from the Liberation War, and had been allocated a piece of land as a gratuity. His father was getting older now, and could not continue developing his small farm. Accordingly, he called his son to take over from him. Just to take the shine off the deal, the farm was in one of those real undeveloped middle-of-nowhere places that had a dodgy rainfall record. It was about 400km away by road and about 250km North of Bulawayo as the crow flies. Simon’s elder brother had actually refused his father, but Simon – being Simon – reluctantly but dutifully agreed to his father’s request. To our shame, I have to admit that we all tried to sway Simon’s decision, but he would have none of it. My friends finally and sadly accepted the fact that he was leaving. We all pitched in and gathered together for him all sorts of useful tools and materials that would help him set up a home and a new life, and said a tearful goodbye to Simon, his wife and two young children. We heard nothing from Simon for some time, but about 6 months later my friends finally received a letter from him. It was an upbeat letter – he and his family had been blessed with a good rainy season, and were literally reaping the rewards of their hard work. Some months later, came another letter. Simon had taken the plunge, and taken up a position as a Christian Minister in his rural home area. His family were leaving the farm in the hands of a co-operative, and following him. All seemed set for him.

No-one heard from Simon for about two years. But, this is Zimbabwe – there are few fairy-tale stories to be heard – unless you listen to Gideon Gono and his financial plans for the economy! Drought happened to drop by, closely followed by political devastation of the economy. Late last year, another letter arrived from Simon – bad news this time. He was in serious financial difficulties, and could someone help him to get a job? My friends wasted no time in welcoming him back, and he arrived in early December, leaving his family at their rural home. He settled in and things were going smoothly until Simon received a message from the co-operative who were running the farm. They had a bank account, but their signatories had left and could not be traced. Could Simon, who was still a signatory, come and help them sort their account out? It really was urgent! True to form, Simon agreed to go back to the farm and help out. He would also visit his family on the way back. Reluctantly my friends gave him an advance and he left on a truck that was heading past the farm.

That was the last they heard of Simon until about 10 days ago – nearly 2 months later! They had been extremely worried – Simon was not the kind to take the money and run. Was he sick? He often had recurring bouts of malaria in the rainy season. Had he run out of money? Had he been robbed or injured? All the awful pictures sprang to mind! The longer they waited, the more they worried. Then came the phonecall! It was from someone who they had never heard of, calling from a place they had never heard of, near Simon’s rural home. The caller said that he had received a letter from Simon, who had asked the caller to contact his employer. Simon had run out of money, the caller said. He had found his family on the verge of starvation, and had spent all of his money buying food. He was now stranded with no money, no transport, and was running out of food. How could they help Simon, my friends asked. The simple answer was – money! If they would just transfer money to the caller’s bank account, he could then draw it and give it to Simon, and all would be okay. How much money was their next question. Oh – about four or five million should be okay, came the reply. Four or five million! They gasped – inflation is hitting them hard, and that was still a large amount of money for them. What would he need that much for, they queried. Well, he explained, first there is the bus fare back, which is about one and a half million. That sounded right – a trip of about 600km with the black market price of fuel running at over Z$200,000 a litre! And the rest? Well – you know how it is in the rural areas, went on the caller. Ordinary people are not allowed to buy maize from the Grain Marketing Board depot – only people with political clout are allowed to purchase grain – at the subsidised government-controlled price. They then resell it to the “ordinary” people at a fat profit! The current price for a twenty litre bucket of unmilled grain was Z$800,000! (It sells on the black market in Bulawayo for about Z$300,000!) Their blood ran cold!

I blew my top at this news! How can you not get angry at such a blatant, murderous abuse of power! Villagers in an underdeveloped and impoverished rural area have virtually no hope of finding this sort of money! Without outside help, they WILL starve to death, while those with political clout will live to deny their part in what can only be called genocide!

My friends were now in the most awful quandary! How could they help Simon? Should they borrow money (they have a big family). If they did that, could they really consider sending money off to a total stranger in the middle of nowhere in the vain hope that some of it might get to Simon? We talked it over with them. It was probabably true that Simon and his family were stranded and short of food. But then, was this person – the caller – with both a phone and a bank account, a real friend? Or was he another of those with “political clout” who had figured out a way to take Simon’s starving family for their final ride?

Our thoughts and prayers are with Simon and his family, wherever they are now. We are desperately trying to track down a relative, to try and find another way to get in touch with Simon, so that we can help them. Please pray with us that we get there in time!

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, rural, maize, food supply, inflation, poverty, corruption

I’m sure that are some people who still wonder why I do this – why I bare my heart, why I vent my anger and frustrations on cyberspace. There is a simple answer to that – because I care! I care for my country. I care for my people. I care about the things that make life liveable – democracy, justice and peace! I know that there are millions of other people out there who care for these ideals just as deeply as I do, and I hope and pray that they will in turn pass on my message – and indeed that of Sokwanele as a whole – to others who care. This is my public contribution to the struggle that we wage against opression and injustice in Zimbabwe. As a simple blogger, I stand proud in the knowledge that – in this small way – I am supporting Sokwanele, and in doing so, supporting my country and my people. Congratulations, Sokwanele, on the first anniversary of your Blogsite! You have done Zimbabwe proud!

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, Sokwanele, blogging

We are now told that coke is on ration. I tried to buy one to take away yesterday and they told me this. I am thinking how many countries are there in the world that do not have coke..?

What I don’t understand is why, when a government has failed in running the country, they should not step down. It is their job to provide everything for us and we have nothing. Like a company, when it fails, the boss must be fired or he resigns.

Even if we have the money to buy just one nice thing for ourselves, we cannot. Just because they say there is no foreign currency. Why is this the case? They have stolen our money and destroyed business and jobs in this country. Now we are left with nothing.

Sokwanele Update: The BBC has a report on this as well today – here’s the link.

However, Coca-Cola agents told shop and bar owners that syrup had not been imported owing to foreign currency shortages, AP news agency reports.

Coca-Cola is normally available even in small villages in Zimbabwe, and supplies continued even throughout the bush war that led to independence in 1980.

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, poverty, coca-cola, coke

We are fast approaching Zimbabwe’s 26th “celebration” of independence and I cringe at the extent to which this country has slid into a quagmire of decay. Just this morning as I drove through town I shook my head in disbelief at the filth that now characterizes our once pristine home – this putrefication a perfect metaphor for the iniquity that rules our lives in our sad nation. Dustbins overflowing, beggars abounding, their only food source the muck they can filch from the rubbish of others. Rust bucket cars, petrol gauges always poised on the red for fuel about to run out, ignore basic safety rules, traffic out of control with non-functional robots, rutted, pot-holed streets a constant threat to life as drivers swerve around the ever deepening pits in the tarmac. The faces of the people on the street tense, angry, disappointed, hopeless and, for the vast majority, HUNGRY.

Recently I gave vent to frustration in a blog When is the time right for revolution and I was not surprised at some of the comments which included one anonymous author who wrote, “Quit moaning about it and get it done, it is your country take it back from that evil man. The time for revolution is now, who will lead?”

Looking back over a year of blogging for This is Zimbabwe, six years of commitment to toppling the regime and twenty six years of wasted opportunity I ask the same question: who the hell is going to lead? Heaven knows, I have done my best to galvanise resistance in a variety of ways, often putting myself and my family at risk and I am sick of the wasted opportunities that have flitted by through the ineptitude of our so-called leaders.

I blog and blog while the self-involved, schizophrenic opposition ranted and raved at the second episode of the Movement for Dithering Change congress held in sunny, but filthy, Harare.

Why do I stay? Why do I continue to fight the good fight? Why do I blog and blog? I don’t know, but I think it is because I could never, ever do the ostrich routine – bury my head and pretend all is well in the rotten state of Zimbabwe.

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, MDC, poverty

Podging the dotholes - that’s the way we start most days at the moment in Zim. For those who don’t know us, that’s my mad family’s name for the increasingly popular Zimbabwean sport of dodging potholes in the – previously good (tarmac) – roads. It has become so popular that everyone is doing it – except the drunk drivers! Nearly every second well-to-do businessman or zanupf apologist is buying at least one huge shiny new four-by-four to join in the fun. Some have even bought one each for every member of the family! The craze has hit the yougsters as well, with Creamy Inn reporting a massive increase in the sales of ‘Rocky Road’ ice creams! In a short stretch of road (about 200m) to my youngest son’s school, I counted no less than 33 potholes ranging from biscuit-tin size to small crater! Okay, I hear you Harare residents boasting that you can do better, but by our standards, this is quite awesome!

Given the unprecedented demand for potholes, I have been seriously thinking about pioneering a new sport called speed potholing. It would be a bit like drag racing, but the contestants would have to dodge a standard number of small to crater-sized potholes in the process. There could also be several different classes; e.g. there could be “Clear Road” Class for novices (no other vehicles on the drag strip); “Omnibus” Class for experienced drivers (Commuter Omnibuses would be parked at crazy angles all over the drag strip, and at least one would pull out onto the strip at the last second), and “Oncoming Traffic” Class for expert drivers (drivers would be subjected to a number of oncoming cars both on the right and the left sides of the drag strip, whilst dodging potholes and Commuter Omnibuses). Who knows – I might be able to franchise the sport and export it for forex! That way the zanupf apologists would be able to forcibly buy the forex off me at the controlled bank rate, sell it on the black market for 10 times what they paid, and grow ever more obese and greedy.

And you think I jest? You should have been in the car with me today, trying to remain calm and remain a law-abiding driver and citizen! I artfully dodged potholes to the first school, dropped off one child, carefully negotiated the next wave of advancing potholes, calmly avoided several cyclists with death wishes, skillfully circumvented numerous pedestrians walking two or more abreast on blind corners on a narrow road (they can’t walk on the verges any longer as they are so overgrown that you would need a 4×4 and a trained guide) without even touching the hooter once, and politely followed a truck travelling at 40km/hr in a 60 km/h road most of the way to the next school.

As I pulled off from there, I thought – time to relax – that was the worst part of the morning journey over. Yeah right! As I headed into town on the 4-lane main road, I managed to dodge past two slow-moving vehicles and get into the leading position in the right-hand lane. Watching my rear-view mirror I saw an old Datsun 1200 weaving its way through the traffic behind me. I continued on my way up the road at the speed limit, noting that the energetic driver was following my lead, and rapidly catching up with me. All of a sudden I saw a movement on the road ahead! A young schoolboy had decided to run across a pedestrian crossing leading across my path! My foot went for the brakes, but my eyes were flashing back and forth from the rear-view mirror to the the running child. After a few seconds I had resigned myself to a rear-end shunt, when the child realised what he had done and suddenly stopped just short of my path. Cursing inwardly at myself and the cowboy behind me I reluctlantly floored the accelerator and got out of the impact zone. Yes – I thanked God for stopping the child! At least it seemed to have woken up the agressive driver behind me, as he slowed right down after that.

I continued into town without incident, besides the “floaters” (the drivers who seem to find it impossible to drive down the road in a straight line and stay in one lane, encroaching on lanes either side of theirs at random). I pulled up at a Give Way intersection in the right hand (turning lane). A Commuter Omnibus pulled up at the intersection in the middle (straight only) lane. It didn’t take more than a glance to tell what he was going to do. I told my passenger “watch this guy”. I was not to be disappointed! At the first sign of a short break in the traffic, and in the face of oncoming traffic, the driver pulled out, turned right across the front of my car and tore off down the road. Amazingly enough, there was not a single hoot, not a single curse – drivers just avoided him and went on their way!

Still quite calm, I approached the drop-off for my passenger, I had to brake for a vehicle that was reversing out of a parking in front of me, and I hooted both to warn the driver and in annoyance. In the first place, the vehicle had very obviously approached from the opposite direction, and had turned into the parking on the opposite (my) side of the road across a double solid white line, stopping straddled across a couple of parkings. The driver turned and abused me angrily, then just as I had expected an incident to erupt, he seemed to think better of it and moved out of the way. Maybe it was the sight of the group of policeman walking along the pavement? But then again, they just glanced across and went on their way! Sayings thanks for another problem averted, I dropped off my passenger and headed for work, winding my way through the pedestrains that continuously wander aimlessly – and with no open sign of fear – through the traffic around that area of town. I turned right at a traffic light after having waited in the intersection until a very late orange light. A vehicle that had been oncoming, and who had more than enough time to stop, calmy continued through the red light and turned to follow me. Still calm? Doing good today, I thought!

A couple of blocks away from work, I pulled up behind a Commuter Omnibus at a traffic light. He had stopped in the left turning lane to drop off a passenger, then turned across the solid white lines to get into the centre lane. Not to be outdone, a second Commuter Omnibus – ignoring me – did a U-turn (across the solid white lines – need I say?) from the right-hand side of the road, and the pair of them started to “jostle” for the centre lane. By the time the lights had turned green, they were almost in the centre of the intersection! I have to admit – by the time I got to work I desperately needed a cup of coffee!

Later, at lunchtime, I decided to brave the traffic jungle again and go to the bank. I was just approaching a Give Way intersection where there was a stationary car parked on the left verge, and a vehicle in the right turning lane waiting to turn right onto the main road. Blow me down if a driver on the main road doesn’t try and turn right into the road I was approaching on, cutting the corner on the INSIDE of the vehicle waiting to turn right – and this all in the face of oncoming traffic on the main road, and with me oncoming! Happily, everyone managed to stop in time, and the driver who caused the chaos just sat there smiling and laughing at everyone until everyone managed to move away!

And this all in the space of 4 hours! Should we marvel at Zimbabwean drivers, and just accept their abuse of traffic laws in an attempt to remain sane? Should we just cry for a country where standards are being swept aside in the face of blatant corruption and abuse of power, with the rot pervading all levels and aspects of society? Or do we stand up against the rot with the sane voices and brave hearts among our people? For me there has never been, and never will be, a choice. That is why you are reading this. I hope you are with me – with us – as we continue podging the dotholes all the way to the end of the road.

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, potholes, democracy, activism, activist

The defeat of another lost election, Operation Murambatsvina, the shambles within the MDC, and the highest inflation rate in the world (estimated by economists to now have reached 1000%) has left most Zimbabweans dazed. Unemployment rates are high and, as a result, theft of anything and everything is rife. We regularly experience power cuts – those caused by faults and breakage, and also as a result of load shedding because the government cannot pay the bill. Some residential areas still have no water.

Looking back over this year of blogging, it’s very sad to remember the many friends and business acquaintances we have lost over a period of just 12 months. Every week there is another garage/boot/household goods sale – another family selling up and moving on. It’s abnormal to have to say goodbye to so many people who have become part of our lives.

People living outside the country often say things like ‘in our country this would not happen’, or they ask, ‘why do the Zimbabwean people not do something?’ People living in normal environments just cannot understand why things have not changed, and everyone has a piece of advice on how to make things happen.

I wish it was as easy to solve as it is to say it, but that’s just not reality. Believe me, if Zimbabweans knew how, we would have done it; if it was possible, it would have happened. No one wants to live the way we do, and no one knows better than Zimbabweans in Zimbabwe how desperately change is required. It’s hurtful in a way to be treated like ‘fools’ – as if we are somehow responsible for what has happened because we are ‘accepting’ this.

Zimbabweans are a peaceful people. A friend of mine said the other day that the problem was that so many of us had been naively trusting of a government that had ‘liberated’ us from a terrible colonial past. She asked me: “Is a child responsible when a parent that it trusts beats it?” That same government went on to spend 25 years lining their pockets while ordinary citizens were left dealing with steadily increasing unemployment, inequality, poverty and hunger. The government has us by our throat: it controls the newspapers, radio and television channels as well as the police force and army. Now the government wants to control the internet and email too. How do we share ideas or communicate with each other when information is so controlled? A person can be arrested and held for days without charge in our country. In Zimbabwean prisons, as well as out, people are beaten, intimidated and tortured.

Most Zimbabweans now live from day to day, trying to make ends meet. When you battle to feed yourself and your family just one meal a day (if you are lucky) then how do you possibly find the strength to fight a ruthless, cruel regime? Living is a fight for survival.

So, why do I stay in this country that has deteriorated so badly? Because I was born here, because my children were born here, because my extended family live here, because this is my home. We continue to live in the hope that something will change. Evil never prevails.

This is Zimbabwe is one year old today – one year since our very first post. Some of our contributors have written anniversary entries, which we will publish each day through the course of this week. Our first anniversary coincides with reports in our local media that Mugabe’s government is planning to fast-track the ‘Interception of Communications Bill’ through parliament. Previous attempts by the government to enact repressive laws designed to control private communication have been declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court because they violate Zimbabwean rights to freedom of expression, freedom to receive and impart ideas, and freedom from interference with one’s correspondence. The government plans to ignore all those rulings and proceed regardless – more detail from The Zimbabwean Independent:

The Bill restores the provisions that were ruled unconstitutional. It seeks to empower the chief of defence intelligence, the director-general of the Central Intelligence Organisation, the Commissioner of Police and the Commissioner General of the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority to intercept telephonic messages passed through fixed lines, cellular phones and the Internet.

The Bill also empowers state agencies to open mail passing through the post and through licensed courier service providers.

It authorises the Minister of Transport and Communications to issue a warrant to state functionaries to order the interception of information if there are “reasonable grounds for the minister to think that an offence has been committed or that there is a threat to safety or national security of the country”.

If passed into law, government will use it to set up a telecommunications agency called the Monitoring (and) Interception of Communications Centre from where spy units will operate facilities to pry into messages from both fixed and mobile phones. Sources yesterday said government had already ordered equipment to be installed at monitoring centres in Harare and Bulawayo.

The Bill says operators of telecommunication services will be compelled to install software and hardware to enable them to intercept and store information as directed by the state. The service providers will also be asked to link their message monitoring equipment to the government agency. Such equipment should be able to render “real time, full time monitoring facilities for the interception of communication”.

Are laws like these a threat to the writing of a blog like ours? Well, consider this: on Tuesday last week the press carried stories that a legislator for the Movement of Democratic Change had been arrested for ‘insulting the president’, a crime that can carry a prison sentence. His offence was to ask this question of soldiers that he’d been giving a lift to: “Why do you let Mugabe let you suffer?” In democratic countries (Zimbabwe is supposedly a democracy) that would be considered dialogue, an opinion, a point to debate, a normal function of a free society. In our country we discover that to even question the president, let alone call him names or publically vilify him, is deemed insulting and therefore criminal. What chance do we have? Or any group like ours that feels it is their moral duty to call to public attention the fact that the Zimbabwean government, and therefore also the Zimbabwean president, has profoundly failed the people in our country? When does a fair-minded reasonable objection to squalor, corruption, mismanagement and poverty stop being a question and turn into a presidential insult?

Sokwanele started This is Zimbabwe shortly before the parliamentary elections last year. We were looking for a medium that would enable us to get information to the world easily and quickly before and immediately after elections which we knew (as everyone did) would be very controversial. On March 30th – the day before elections – The Guardian (UK) identified This is Zimbabwe as their ‘Pick of the Day’ and the result was a surge in visits to our website. We decided there and then to try and keep the blog going beyond the elections and our webstats now reveal a whopping 650% increase in visitors to our blog and website since March 2005, with a continuing steady increase every month.

The success of that is down to ordinary people who have contributed entries on a regular basis, and it hasn’t always been easy for them. Writing anonymously, unable to discuss or share an idea with a friend or family member, is lonely work. Trying to communicate a surreal experience to an invisible and unknown audience is also difficult – especially if you are a person who would not ordinarily describe themself as ‘a writer’. But the hardest thing to do, when tired, disheartened and battered by relentless repression, is to find words that will contribute to our broader committment, which is to make a difference to the people in our country who need it the most; people who are homeless, hungry and struggling to survive. To find those magic words – say something, anything, that will keep Zimbabwe in the mind of the world – that’s the hardest thing of all. Yet our contributors have managed to keep going and as a result people from all around the world visit our blog every day to read their words. Your comments and your emails are appreciated and help us to keep going. Thank you for your warmth and support.

Sokwanele has never been under the illusion that This is Zimbabwe would reach the people who crave and need truthful and honest information the most – namely, Zimbabweans living in Zimbabwe – but we hoped that it might give the outside world a feeling for what life was like for ordinary people in Zimbabwe.

Our nation has slid into the ‘African basket-case’ category, but we, the Zimbabwean people, are unwilling participants in this train-smash – we have been force-marched with repressive legislation, violence and intimidation, into a tragic cliché which we reject and want no part of. We ask ourselves the same question that you would ask yourselves every day if it happened to you: ‘I cannot believe this is happening to me; what have I ever done to deserve this?’. Just because we are African and living in a poverty-stricken and war-torn continent doesn’t make our experience any easier for us to live with or adapt to. We are – as you would be too – shocked, stunned, horrified, frightened and angry. Zimbabweans are more than catastrophic headlines in the mainstream media: we are individuals, families, and communities, and we are living in a state of seige.

If the Interception of Communications Bill is passed – which it probably will be – keeping This is Zimbabwe going is bound to be more difficult and more dangerous. The government reveals with this latest legislation that its top priority remains its determination to ruthlessly control the hearts and minds of the people in our country. That is despite the fact that the Zimbabwean economy has failed with inflation at nearly 1000%, despite food shortages, an erratic fuel supply, never-ending power and water cuts, and even sewerage flowing in some streets. This is why it is so important that we find a way to keep going: Zimbabweans are entitled to, and deserve, a government that instead prioritises the eradication of poverty, basic human rights, and freedom and democracy for all. As hard as it may be, we plan to do whatever we can to continue doing what we do until Zimbabweans finally get what they deserve. Our decision to pursue that objective has nothing to do with ‘national security’ or ‘preserving the dignity of the president’; it’s about democracy, pure and simple, and we are exercising our right despite every attempt that has been made to deprive us of it.

Sokwanele – Zvakwana – Enough is Enough

Technorati Tags: Zimbabwe, Sokwanele, Zvakwana, democracy, Interception of Communications, mugabe, freedom of information