he things they do have eroded the fabric of
their existence. Zimbabwe has no government!
The regime relies on force and intimidation. But worse still is that its cronies seem to further erode it from the inside through corruption and other deviant ways. When a regime is beginning to self-devour, that spells the end.
SM Mngadi, Jozi
Prodigal sons welcome
EDITOR – I would like to put the point straight in regards to previously publicised article which appeared in our local print media houses, where the main stream MDC president Morgan Tsvangirai was misquoted by whoever was responsible with an intention to cause despondency among MDC supporters in Zimbabwe and abroad.
The truth is that Tsvangirai, as a father figure of the party, only extended an olive branch to those who might have been willing to swallow their pride and return home to the 100 % MDC. He remains ready to accept his prodigal sons under any circumstances.
That in itself was a clear indication that the talk of unity accord was never discussed but, that it was just a welcome home from a loving father who forgives his children so that we face the common enemy with one voice.
I feel ashamed for those who were jostling for positions after the merger.
F Tinago, Glen View
Suffering of ordinary people
EDITOR – I have just returned from another visit to Zimbabwe – what a difference is apparent since my visit last year. This time I was in Harare for two weeks. There were still large bottles of water being stored in every kitchen, toilet, and bathroom that I visited, to cope with the continual water cuts. Every household had candles, paraffin lamps, or ‘Bazookas’ which are battery charged lights, that come on automatically when the lights go off, to give you enough light to locate torches, candles, matches etc. (Of course paraffin was in short supply).
I visited my sister in hospital and was driven by various nieces, but it was never a simple straight there-and-back journey, but a case of visiting every shop we passed on the way to see if there was bread or milk, or whatever was short at the time.
One thing that seemed very noticeable to me, was that every one seemed very tired. I had to wonder how the elderly, with no means of transport, were coping. I went in to one shop and just walked around looking at prices. The shopping basket shown in your newspaper is read, and one thinks Wow! and turns over the page. But I saw an elderly gentleman, with white in his hair, wearing overalls and gum boots – presumably a gardener or similar, trying to buy a loaf of bread which was priced at $4500. Shaking his head in sad disbelief, he asked, ” Not $450?” He was told firmly – $4500.
Sadly shaking his head he put it back on the shelf and walked out empty handed. I wished I could have paid for it, but it really brought home to me the suffering of the ordinary people.
I visited a Building society to find out how the revaluation of the currency had affected people. The last three figures on all accounts were knocked off. If there was $100995, you then remained with $100. This brought the account down to below the minimum balance so they started charging administration fees, which soon ate up what little was left. The gentleman I spoke to said he had worked hard and saved so he would be alright in his retirement, as would his family. He now had $50, that wouldn’t buy anything. A cup of tea costs $1500.
At the airport when I left, I thought I would spend what money I had left, and went to buy a bottle of fruit juice. It was $1750, so I had to settle for the tea. I was told they were not allowed to take more than $5000 in Zimbabwe money, and a lot of prices were quoted in US$’s. The only thing I saw while looking around for under $5000 were small warthog key rings, with a picture hook and a split ring through it.
One would have thought they would want to keep their Zim money in the country, but even they don’t seem to want it. I was told $1000 notes were illegal currency, and would be confiscated, but I was given 4 x 1000, and 1 x 1 dollar notes for my 5 cents change. Very confusing to say the least.
Still the people seem optimistic, and are always working and planning, and the average person in the street is still the same kind cheerful fellow he always has been. I never had any dealings with officials or military, except the immigration officer at the airport and he wished me a happy visit.
Mrs W, UK
Letter to diasporans
EDITOR – I was against the idea that you work in the diaspora. My argument was that we should work here and develop our country. I believe I am still right although I now understand and appreciate your situation. You have managed to buy a house of your own, are feeding the extended family, paying medical bills for most of us and sending several children (none of whom are yours) to school. If you had not been working in the diaspora, I do not know how we would have survived because the political, economic and social situation in the country is untenable:
1. The government has taken an indefinite vacation leave. So the country is on automatic pilot. We do not know where we are going but we can tell we are sliding (tiripanhanzva) downhill at very fast speed. The brakes have failed, therefore we are going to crash-land.
2. We miss fresh milk. It seems we are on animal farm where cows have revolted. They are tired of giving milk to human beings. Even lacto (sour milk) is not easy to find.
3. We have to spend several nights in fuel queues because very few fuel stations sell the scarce commodity at the stipulated Z$335 per litre. If the other fuel stations have fuel at all, they sell it at between Z$1 400 and Z$2 000 per litre. A sizeable number of cars have immobile due to the acute shortage of fuel and/or its high cost. So commuter omnibuses are doing brisk business.
4. Government officials at various levels are busy farming. They use all manner of excuses to be absent from official duty to attend to their farms. Government motor vehicles and fuel are abused in the name of land reform. Asi chinozobuda muminda iyoyo hapana (Nothing comes out of it).
5. The prices of all commodities are soaring out of control. Beef now costs at least Z$3 500 a kilogram, chicken around Z$5 000 a kilogram. Small items now cost at least Z$1 000, but salaries and wages are going up too slowly to catch up with the rate of price increases.
6. Strangely enough, our banks charge you a high fee for keeping your money in their banks. If you bank Z$20 000 today, you can only withdraw Z$19 000 tomorrow because the other Z$1 000 goes to bank charges. So you are better off keeping your money at home. But the Reserve Bank Governor does not want that.
7. Our country is unique. You buy a new or use car today, used it extensively and roughly for several weeks, months or years and sell it at a huge profit. The older it is the more money you make. The reverse is true in any other country in the world: a use car loses value.
8. Because of hyperinflation, schools invite parents to meet at least once every term to review levies and boarding/tuition fees. At those meetings, parents resolve to increase the levies and fees by at least 50% and in some cases 100%. If parents do not do that, their children will starve.
9. If you want to hold any meeting, you seek permission from the police. Demonstrations/protests are can only be sanctioned by the police. If the demonstration supports government or ruling party policies, you get police escort. If it is against official policies, the police will not allow it. If you insist, you will either be arrested or assaulted.
10. The health delivery system has virtually collapsed. Zimbabweans believe that if you go to public hospitals where there are no drugs and facilities, you go there to die so that your relatives can easily obtain a death certificate. Dying at home invites the police. Medical personnel are joining you in the diaspora in big numbers. Therefore there is an acute shortage of doctors and nurses, leading to long queues at public hospitals and clinics. Private institutions are too expensive for the common person or someone who is not under by a medical aid scheme.
11. We are getting used to power outages countrywide and water cuts in Harare. Imagine going for days without water: no flushing of toilets, no bathing or laundry. When power goes, paraffin, gas or firewood, as an alternative is not easy to come by.
My brother, I could go on and on. What you want to know is that government officials say all the above problems are challenges which are caused by sanctions instigated by Britain in retaliation for taking land previously owned by whites. Anybody who views this differently is a sell-out and a puppet of the British. You and your kind in the diaspora are not patriotic. They look at you with contempt.
That is the grave situation at home. You have no option but to continue working and looking after your family and all of us. I know you miss home, but if you come, you will not be able to go back. So hang in there, Mwari ndowedu tose. Rimwe zuva uchanzavo kuchema kwedu.
Mukoma Takafirei Wafawanaka, Harare
Court orders worthless
EDITOR – It is very sad that the Zanu (PF) regime has made it its priority to destroy tertiary education in Zimbabwe. After hiking tuition fees beyond the reach of many the regime has unleashed the dreaded CIO, and the police to crush any protests by students. The recent unlawful arrest and expulsion of student leaders in Harare, Bulawayo and Masvingo is a case in point.
Despite the fact that the High Court issued an order that the students be reinstated, they are still in the streets. All this betrays the regime’s innate fear of insurrection to such an extent that court orders are not worth the paper they are written on. The rule of law has thus been overthrown overnight, Security guards at the UZ continuously torture students and disrupt student meetings as if they are above the law. Shame on you, the government of Zimbabwe, you have lost the moral right to rule. Pleae go peacefully.
KUDZAYI KADZERE, Harare