In 2003 there was much sensation around the masked South Africa Kwaito musician Mzekezeke. The excitement around Mzekezeke was as much about his music as it was about the mystery of his identity. ‘Ngubani uMzekezeke’ – who is Mzekezeke – became a catch phrase. Youths spent hours of what should have been study time, speculating on the identity of the masked singer or learning the words to his songs.
When Mzekezeke was finally unmasked there was an anti-climax. Those who had school exams to write were still O Level-less or, in the case of South Africa, Matric-less. Those who had to do household chores still had pending errands.
Mysterious cyber whistleblower, Baba Jukwa – who became the thorn in the collective flesh of Zanu (PF) after revealing several party secrets – has been unmasked, allegedly. To most Zimbabweans, there is a feeling of déjà vu. However new the experience feels, we have been here before.
While the newspaper vendor yells – ‘extra extra! Jukwa unmasked!’ – parastatal bosses are still on their astronomical salaries, unemployed youths are still seated outside bottle-stores and the tap water – if it comes out – still holds the promise of typhoid for anybody who ventures to sip.
A mere $50
Information is power. Mugabe is aware of that fact, which is why he attacks the source of truths that make it hard to cling to power – the independent media. Press freedom day marches were banned, as if he feared that the scribes would shoot bullets through their ballpoint pens. It is vital for Mugabe’s political survival that he discredits his critics. What the state media neglects to mention is the threats made to several patriotic journalists who, fearing for their safety, operate from outside our borders. The creation of the Baba Jukwa persona is itself proof that freedom of expression does not exist.
The management of this publication are said to have been ‘duped’ out of a mere $50 by Baba Jukwa. What Mugabe’s spin men do not mention is that is the president who has been duped his entire 34-year career. His ministers looted Willowvale. He only found out much later. Kangai raided GMB. Joseph Made, lands minister, made a cartoon of the presidency when we declined international aid, telling donors that we had sufficient supplies.
How embarrassing it was to later discover the truth about our empty granaries. Mugabe was made to look silly when he smiled and handed a ceremonial cheque for $1,5 million to Chief Marange for community share ownership schemes, only for it to later emerge that the cheque was just a dummy cheque without actual funds to back it up. In terms of the arrangement with government, diamond mining firms were expected to contribute to Marange-Zimunya Community Share Ownership. The mining firms had not paid any contributions.
Running on foot
State operatives have spent thousands of man hours attempting to sniff out Baba Jukwa, while the police are forced to resort to running after traffic offenders on foot, due to shortage of vehicles. There is no money to compensate the people of Chingwizi, yet somehow we had the resources to chase Jukwa who should not really matter, if, as Zanu (PF) tells us, two thirds of the country want them in power.
Rather than investigating effective water purification methods, the minister responsible for the hazardous water trickling from our taps – Saviour Kasukuwere – has taken irretrievable time from his busy schedule to declare his wish for the prosecution of the men behind the Baba Jukwa persona. If government wants to arrest anyone, perhaps they could begin with corrupt officials. Or the hackers who brazenly claim to have violated privacy laws.
Not fooled
In December, President Robert Mugabe unveiled the statue of Joshua Nkomo, going against the post-independence lies that we were fed about dissidents and malcontents bent on killing us all. The same speech writers, who had poked fun at Nkomo in the 1980s, describing him as a snake that had to be struck on the head, wrote pleasant eulogies. By unveiling Nkomo’s statue on Unity Day we were expected to believe there was tribal harmony and that Matebeleland and Midlands killings had been forgotten.
But even an amnesiac cannot easily forget 20,000 dead civilians, even when the master of diversionary tactics erects a three-metre high bronze statue at corner Main and 8th Avenue. Despite attempts to divert attention from the underdevelopment of Matebeleland, its perennial water crisis and recurring famine the people have not been fooled.
Then came the next smokescreen – the multimillion dollar party in Chinhoyi, held in a $3million marquee, kitted out with plasma screens, inside which victorious comrades celebrated their illegitimate election with the a joy that betrayed their disbelief at having won.
See no evil
Next there followed Salarygate, when the state-run Zimpapers uncharacteristically took the blinkers off its team of hear-no-evil see-no-evil reporters. They unearthed scandalous salaries at loss-making parastatals, a $100,000 ZBC van priced at $1million and a tradition of not caring at Air Zimbabwe where bosses ran an insurance racket.
When a young thief – a mere trainee among veteran crooks – demanded to know the source of a minister’s wealth, they silenced him by revealing secrets of his own murky business empire, which was built on helicopter tours and kickbacks earned from introducing businessmen to his uncle the government official.
Then came the million dollar birthday party for a man who had already seen 89 other birthdays, while simultaneously outliving the many Zimbabweans who perished through cholera epidemics, in child-birth at ill-equipped clinics or in genocidal military operations. At that birthday party, which was inflicted upon the millions who do not have the luxury of satellite television, we were shown another diversionary trick: the habitual anti-British rhetoric.
Three weeks later, Mugabe held another birthday party – as if he had missed the first one. At this second party, Mugabe’s new trick was to tell us that he had caught a government minister demanding payment for introducing investors to the President. Time, as always, moves on. The sand in the top half of the hourglass emptied to the bottom. Crickets chirped until they fell silent from fatigue.
The next trick
But still the President did not name or shame this corrupt official. Before the nation even had a moment to exchange looks of puzzlement, the presidential propaganda conjurers had brought out the next trick, in the form of an unremitting supply of news on the squabbles in the MDC who, strangely, are still regarded as a threat, despite the much-vaunted two thirds majority in Parliament. Like a devious man who plies his prudish girlfriend with alcohol, Zanu (PF) has kept the MDC scandals coming.
Recently we heard presidential outbursts, which were designed to give the impression of concern. ‘The roads, our roads, oh dear me!’ But searching the archives – 10 November 2013 – we find Mugabe rebuking his ministers for wasting time on meetings – ‘People will say what’s happening in Agriculture? No change… The mining sector has not been organised. Our roads are still the same’ – which is proof that that he knew about the bad state of roads. His ZITF admission was another trick.
Ten months after July 2013 elections, Mugabe realises he has not delivered the 2,2million jobs he promised. Despite Zinara taking its pound of flesh at tollgates, the roads are still in ruin. Fifteen women die in labour each day – deaths which could be avoided with better healthcare. What little assistance the country had in that regard will disappear with Médecins Sans Frontier’s looming departure.Till next week, my pen is capped. – Jerà Twitter: @JeraAfrika
Post published in: Analysis