Offers, burnt, not refusable

8 09 2008

I have just come from the weekly milk run. Prices are up again; milk is now a dollar a litre (bring your own container). This means that it has doubled in the last three months. Helen mentioned that the farm where she gets the milk is getting its “offer” letter next week. What this really means is that the recipient has 7 days to get off; they are not actually offered anything. Maybe it’s someone’s idea of a bad pun. Maybe that’s why the price has gone up.

The farm where I stay has not had an offer – yet. One of the managers was beaten up on Saturday though (I don’t know the full story) and his house occupied by ruling party hoods; he is a “known” opposition supporter. This is not the first time this has happened but I have a feeling that this time they will not move. It could have a knock-on effect for me as I live on the other end of the farm and am not an employee so may be asked to move out for him. I do have it on good authority that the next foreseeable crunch will be when Bob can no longer afford to pay the army. Helen tells me that the military is behind the offer last week to the neighbour to the dairy where she gets her milk. A connection perhaps?





On again off

3 09 2008

We have just survived five days of no power at the nursery. The ancient Lister enginge that powers the backup pump also decided to give up the ghost (4 cylinder head gaskets later – not a good buy) so we were dependent on a little Lombardini hooked up to 5000 litre emergency tanks and another tiny electric pump that we ran a cable to from the generator in the storeroom. By lunchtime today nerves were getting more than a bit frayed as I gave the Lister one more chance. It coughed and died again then the power came back.

It all started on Saturday with some load shedding and a fire that ripped through my garden in the afternoon. With no power there was little that I could do (we rely on a pressure tank for water pressure) except dribble a little water and swat ineffectively with a wet T shirt. Property was never in much danger but now I have to look at a blackened lawn until the first rain in a couple of months or so.  Elsewhere the fire burnt a tree that fell onto a power line on Sunday night (still no power at the nursery) and it took the electricity authority until today to rectify that and another three faults in the area.

Then this afternoon the unofficial union official (the union is not even registered) pitched up whilst I was wrist deep in old diesel oil detaching the Lister from its mountings to go in for repair/whatever. He’s an obnoxious bastard whose only interest is keeping his members from straying by ensuring that HE negotiates their transport allowance on a monthly basis. I have, in the past, proposed a straight percentage but that was far too simple and would obviate his “negotiations”. The law is vague and requires “the employer to pay any incurred transport costs” to and from work. While there is transport along the road to work no-one uses it and they don’t give out receipts. No incurred cost – no need to pay anything. Oh no. They want their transport allowance (which they put in their pocket). I could provide transport and the whole issue would go away but I am the only driver around and I am not going to go collecting and returning every day at 7 a.m. and 5 p.m. Words were exchanged, an impasse generated and now tomorrow we go to the arbitrating body. The union person was most offended that I did not consult him if he was available and demanded to be picked up. I’d had enough and walked off. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

Cash notes are in short supply again so the black market rate cash for cash (US for Zim) is weak if one is selling US dollars at around 200 Zim to the US (it started the month off at 15:1 – remember?). By contrast the transfer rate (transferring from one account to another) is around 3500:1. It is legal to give whatever discount one likes so what I do at the nursery is price everything at the transfer or cheque rate and then give a fat discount for cash. Paying in real money is still proportionately cheaper as I mark up well above the black market rate. Annoyingly people still seem to just write cheques when what I really want is US dollars. Other companies are less scrupulous. On my way into town yesterday whilst trying to solve the problem with the Lister engine (injector OK, pump OK) I stopped to get some simple spares for the Land Cruiser engine I am rebuilding. A rubber bush and hose clamp that should have cost maybe 3 US dollars came to 7 and no they did not have change. Paying in Zim dollars was a silly price and no they did not give a discount for cash. Up until now I have resisted naming names in this blog but if you are in Zimbabwe, Universal Rubber & Hose can be given a miss.





Power to the people

27 08 2008

The power has been on for nearly an hour now and I have to resist the urge to keep opening the fridge to see how cold it’s getting! True to form I’d just finished having a cold bath when it came back on. It was off for nearly 36 hours from yesterday morning. I was coming back past work yesterday evening when I saw a pickup truck pull into the car park. We’ve had a few theft problems recently so I decided to see what was going on.

As I pulled up next to the truck people started offloading an 8m extending ladder. It looked rather familiar. Thoroughly suspicious now I quizzed the driver of the pickup but it was all quite innocuous. He had a plot further down the road and concerned about the lack of power to irrigate his crops he’d taken the initiative to borrow my ladder (the duty foreman had lent it to him) to assist the electricity supply company in accessing the broken cable. As they did not come back today to borrow it again they must have been able to source another so hopefully things have not got that bad, yet.





Land reform programme

27 08 2008

There are actually some white farmers left on the land. I was chatting to one on Thursday who happened to pass through the nursery – I will refer to him as AG. I asked him what he was doing and he replied the same that he always had; cattle and a few crops. He did admit that he was running a few butcheries in town and like a lot of farmers was selling produce for real money. Illegal of course and to avoid the various police roadblocks set up to intercept just such trade, he moved everything at night. One of my neighbours admitted to me that he’d sold his maize and soyas for real money. Why sell maize for $15 a tonne to the government when he could sell it for $300 a tonne privately? Why indeed! AG and I got onto the topic of paying staff. He paid his entirely in goods; maize meal, soap, oil etc which the valued more than money. I don’t have the luxury of growing my own crops so pay day for me is rather stressful and indeed this weekend I had a strike to sort out over exactly that issue – extra food. AG mentioned that a neighbour of his who is a very Fat Political Cat, had the previous day paid his general labourers 7 new Zimbabwe dollars (about 7c US) for the entire month – no additional goods or food!

In the same area as AG’s farm lies the remains of Zimbabwe’s largest wheat farm – 5000ha under irrigation. Nowadays nothing useful remains. Grain stores have had doorways knocked through them, the roofs stolen and now serve as livestock pens. All combine harvesters (more than 20) and tractors (50+) lie in ruins and the irrigation system is totally defunct. Such is land “reform”.





Diamond deals

20 08 2008

The senior foreman at work lives in the east of Zimbabwe at a small business centre called Nyanyadzi. Not a lot happens there. There is a small irrigation project and the usual small market. But things have changed since the diamond fields were exploited in the nearby Marange area. Having just got back from a short visit home he told me this morning that anyone can purchase a “pass” to go diamond digging for a day. All it takes is a bribe of R200 to a police guard. Benz’s are around in droves, laden with fat cats and US dollars to mop up the diamonds illicitly mined (no doubt they get the diamonds relatively cheap). Zimbabwe dollars are uncommon in the area; the currencies are the rand and US dollar.

This evening on our way back from a short cycle, Jenni and I passed the spot where Tina died. We’d gone about another 100m when in a display that was pure Tina, Jenni took off after a security guard crossing a field on a bicycle. A ridgeback in full chase mode is quite a sight but there was no malice – she was just after a bit of entertainment. The security guard noticed her as she closed on him, dismounted and shouted “Hey” (or something like that) from the security of the far side of his bicycle. Jenni swerved past and trotted off to sniff something nearby as though that’s what she’d been coming over to check out anyway.





Remembering Tina

19 08 2008

Most people associate the Olympics with a sports extravaganza, often hyped (I really don’t want to hear any more about Michael Phelp’s 8 gold medals) to the extreme. I associate it with the death of Tina, Jenni’s sister by a different litter. In the short year that I had her she became my shadow, my best friend, my team mate. An extraordinary dog, she was the dog of a lifetime; the one that I’d been waiting for without knowing it. She was not as good looking as Jenni. In fact she had no ridge (as in ridgeback) though I liked to tell people that it just ran the other way. Her ears were too big and her tail was too long but she made up for it all in sheer joie de vivre. She was the first dog I had that was protective of me and she was just irrepressible. Extremely naughty without a hint of malice she kept me on my toes and entertained. Then in a moment of carelessness that will haunt me forever, I drove over her and she died before I could get to tell her that I did not mean to hurt her. She was all of a year old. It was also the day that Kirsty Coventry, a Zimbabwean swimmer, won her first gold medal – four years ago today.





Fire Season – Again

19 08 2008

Driving to work this afternoon I noticed a substantial number of people in the old soya land between home and the nursery. I was quite surprised that there was anything left to pick up (combine harvesters are not perfect) as the land was harvested in May and people had been going through it intermittently since then. Then I realized the cause for the resurge of interest; there had been a fire last night along the edge of the land and they must have been concerned that the trash (and fallen beans) might burn.

Yes, it’s fire season again and for the past three weeks or so the landscape has been dotted with palls of smoke of varying intensities. Africa burns and no more so than in southern Africa with its alternating wet season and dry seasons that provide ample material to burn and excellent conditions to burn it. The dry usually coincides with the windy time of year which of course really gets things going.

That people should find it necessary to scavenge old soya lands for beans is not that surprising. The new currency is now a twentieth of its introductory value at the beginning of the month and more and more places are trading in only exchangeable currency (SA rand or US dollars). What food there is is extortionately expensive and I was chatting to someone in town today who informed me that bus fares to Bulawayo and Mutare are increasingly being demanded in rand. It’s quite illegal of course but nobody seems too phased by it. Unfortunately my business is hardly essential so demanding real money is unlikely to do more than drive customers away. It does not help that our seedlings are priced at all of 28 USD for 1000! We are, after all, a wholesale nursery and most of the customers sell their produce for Zim dollars so are very unlikely to pay real money.

It is perhaps not surprising that Bob is unwilling to share power with Morgan. Habits must be pretty well entrenched after 28 years of kleptocracy. The MDC appears unwilling to give any more concessions than they already have because they know that all they have to do now is wait for the economy to really crash. I have it on excellent authority that the one remaining significant forex generator, ZimPlats (South African run platinum mine) is out of production for some time. Apparently routine maintenance of the furnace went wrong when an electrode dislodged and fell through the base of the furnace putting it out of action for some months to come. Imagine a country with only one significant source of foreign currency (the diamonds in Manicaland don’t count as “income” – it’s mostly outgoing)!

Maybe this was behind the new law that allows the electricity supply authority to apply a licence fee (in US dollars too) on all owners of electric generators. You may have spotted the irony that we are being charged to do what they cannot; supply electricity. My friend Terry reckons that they don’t have the manpower to enforce it but it does potentially carry a penalty of up to 6 months in jail for non-compliance. I suspect that it is not constitutionally sound but we’ll have to wait and see if anyone is prepared to challenge it.





Shopping as entertainment

9 08 2008

I was half way around the very empty supermarket when I realized that the bottle of Scotch that I thought was a bargain was anything but at USD80! It’s always a problem knocking off the zeros; suddenly everything appears much cheaper when it really is not and the outlets know this and move their prices up. I was replacing the bottle when I was approached by a youngster asking if I was going to pay by cash which I was. He asked if he could pay part of the bill with his debit card and then take some of my cash. I was not really sure about this so I made some vague non-committal reply and he wandered off. I went back to the chore of shopping (I detest it at the best of times). Some things were halfway reasonable and I pegged the standard to a tin of baked beans which at USD5 I considered extortionate. I actually had a fair bit of cash on me from a customer who occasionally likes to deal that way so that he pays less tax. It didn’t really help. I am so conditioned to not being able to afford things that I found it difficult to say – what the hell, you have the cash and want it so get it. I guess the experience with the scotch has left me with post traumatic stress. There was little to choose from anyway and what little there was had been spread out along the shelves to create a pathetic impression of plenty.

At the checkout I was again accosted by a woman who wanted to get some cash if she could pay with her card. When I acquiesced (the supermarket staff gave no indication that it was a scam) she leaped to the card scanner and swiped her card before I could change my mind. I didn’t bother asking why she did not just go to her bank because I already knew; most had run out of cash and the queues were formidable. Yes, it did occur to me to charge for the privilege but somehow it seemed a bit of a grubby practice – I guess I am a lousy businessman!

The fun started when the checkout operator started to count my low (old) denomination notes which you might remember are a 10000000000 times the face value on the computer monitor. There was not enough so I added in some of the new notes. Then I needed change which I was given in old coins. I declined. There was quite a considerable queue by now but Zimbabweans are a patient lot (way too patient – we’d have got rid of this regime in any other country) and some were even a bit amused.

On the way back home I dropped in at the office. I’d ascertained earlier in the day via the grapevine that the cash exchange rate had run to 3.6 to one US dollar, up from the beginning of the month when it was 1.5 (the 10 zeros have been removed). I adjusted the price list accordingly. It seems we are well on the way to another useless batch of currency.





Trading in the useless

8 08 2008

Janice’s ears pricked almost visibly when she heard that I had a 100 note bundle of the old $1000 notes. Not only were they mint but they were still in the RBZ wrapper. To give you an idea of their worth you should divide by 1×10 to the power 13. That’s best done in Excel as 1e13. Actually don’t bother because Excel will just leave it in that scientific notation. The real point is Janice had a use for them even if they were useless as currency.

It seems that Zimbabwe notes actually DO have a value to collectors on the internet. Janice has a lucrative little business trading them to collectors; preferably if they are new and in a bundle (like mine) or a complete set. There is of course nothing new in trading in waste products (the used peat moss that we use in the nursery as a growing medium is a good example)  the skill in Janice’s case is leaking just enough onto the market without flooding it. No, she was not interested in the bags of bearer cheques behind my desk that I was hoping someone would steal.





Squirrel syndrome

6 08 2008

It’s common to most Zimbabweans; squirrel syndrome. After all you just never know when that completely useless, non-functioning old shock absorber from a car that ceased to be made 25 years ago might become useful again! So I was not at all surprised to see a woman at the checkout counter of a supermarket with a very large bag of old coins that had become useful legal tender again after some, oh, four years or so. She and the teller had counted out a good 500 dollars and were still going strong. Hey, it had face value again which means it was worth 5,000,000,000,000 of the old notes which are also still legal tender.

The new notes are out and I have actually seen some though the bank had run out of everything this afternoon so I had to check some out at a local cafe. They are real money too, not these Bearer Cheques that we have had to put up with for so long. The biggest note is $500 which makes it, oh what the hell, you add the 10 zeros of the old denomination! There are even some coins too. One of them, I forget the denomination, has the head of a Cape buffalo on it though it looks more like a cow with big horns. Well, somebody must have had an awful lot of faith to go to this expense (ok, ok, somebody made a lot of money too). Me? I give it three months at the outside to become worthless again.