Water gushed from every tap. At school, we had water fountains for each classroom block, where kids drank without fear of contracting some waterborne disease. At home, mother only boiled water for two reasons: to cook sadza or to make tea. My brother and I took turns to water our parents vegetable garden. Beneath the brutal savannah sun, we often got thirsty. We would point the hosepipe to our mouths and drank straight from its snout. To cool down, I liked to hose down my head and let the water cascade down my forehead. While hosing my face down, I kept my eyes open. I loved how the world became refracted under the sparkling sheet of water washing over my eyes. The vegetables and trees looked like they were dancing. But that was then. And this is now…
For sale
Traveling along Harare’s famous Samora Machel Avenue, hawkers stand on the white carriageway markings, all of them holding various goods; cellphone chargers, bootlegged CDs, flash lights, battery chargers, strips of mutton cloth and face towels. The fastest selling commodity on the streets – apart from airtime cards and vegetables – is something that I never imagined would be sold by hawkers; water.
Ubuntu
At our rural home, strangers walking along the footpath at the edge of grandmother’s homestead would call out from the periphery of her yard.
“Tinokumbirawo mvura!” (may we have a drink of water please).
They stood on the edge of yard, afraid to approach, on account of the barking dogs. Grandmother would tell me to take to them a pail and a gourd – the kind with the hooked handle. Being accustomed to the fenced off existence of Mabelreign, where it was “each man for himself,” I couldn’t understand why grandmother tolerated the water beggars.
“Why do these pesky people always ask for water?” I moaned.
My grandmother used to say “you can deny someone a chicken drumstick, but if someone asks for water, you never say no. It is the African way.”
But here we are, selling water to each other. How did we come to this? The answer is simple really.
Cholera, typhoid, diarrhoea
In 2008, a cholera outbreak swept through Zimbabwe. Officially, 6000 people died. Some crossed into neighbouring countries, in search of medical attention, because Zimbabwe’s hospitals had run out of drugs. It is therefore not clear how many of citizens died in foreign lands. Others, who had been weakened by the illness, may have died along the way. In the country’s rural areas, many deaths go unreported. The cholera deaths of 2008 may therefore be higher.
Since the cholera outbreak, Zimbabweans have been skeptical of tap water pumped by city councils. On 9 June 2014, the Herald published an article in which it declared Harare’s water to be as safe as a sterile needle (Lab Gives Harare Water Thumbs Up). But the gunky green water was not fooling anyone. When government fat cats convened to exchange hot air around their palacial conference rooms, we still saw bottled water on the tables. Even when you boil the water, the putrid smell would discourage even the thirstiest dessert traveller from taking a sip. It was not long before bottled water companies oozed everywhere and street vendors began to sell what my grandmother gave for free in her hooked gourd.
Everybody is affected
The other day, I saw two police women walking in town. They each held in one had kaylite food box and in the other hand a bottle of branded water. These are the people who, daily, prop up a failed administration. It was at that moment very clear to me that we are all affected by the situation prevailing in our country. But it is not everyone who can afford to buy bottled water. At 25 cents for 300ml, one would need to fork out $2 to take in the recommended 2 litres a day. If the majority cannot afford a loaf of bread ($1 in most supermarkets), chances are they will take their chances with the city council’s bacteria infested water.
It’s official – Harare water unsafe
Until now, Harare residents only suspected there was something in the water. But recent comments by the city council’s water director leave no doubt about the poison trickling from our taps.
“The situation right now is dire. The quality of water that we are pumping is the worst in years. It is poor. If you go to Morton Jaffray, it is actually smelling. We are simply not able to treat the raw water that is coming into Morton Jaffray, ” said Christopher Zvobgo.
Water purification seems a simple procedure. It is not rocket science. Why has the City of Harare allowed raw sewerage to be pumped into our lakes? Perhaps, like everything else, someone high up in the food chain profits from the sale of bottled water. To fix the water problem would therefore be bad business sense.
It is only by God’s grace that we have not seen the cholera outbreak of 2008 returning to our cities. At least not yet.
Till next week, my pen is capped.
Post published in: Featured