Zimbabwe Absurdity

It’s a legal requirement in Zimbabwe to supply the staff with safety clothing appropriate for the job to be done. The labourers that I employ occasionally take this to an extreme and request that they want lime green dustcoats and not the navy blue ones. These requests for fashion statements don’t get a very sympathetic hearing from me and nowadays just getting the required clothing (including shoes) is something of a challenge. I’d heard first hand that the local shoe shop was not stocking any shoes so it was with more than a bit of trepidation that I started phoning around. Amazingly I hit luck on the first attempt and the wholesaler had nearly everything I wanted. No time to waste! As an added bonus they also stocked my favourite brand of local coffee, which I am led to believe, is as good as any in Africa. I know the owner from the days when I used to frequent my gym in the early hours of the day. Harry is a genial and very successful businessman. The conversation tended, as I mentioned in another post, to a good grumble. Sometimes grumbles do actually yield a few interesting observations and are more than just another whine. So, I thought I’d make a few notes of the current most popular topic; the price halving and controls.

• VAT (as mentioned earlier) has been massively reduced due to the lack of trading.
• companies that have been forced to trade at or below cost price (or even close down) are no longer posting profits and are not paying any income tax. Most companies fall into this category.
• few cattle are being slaughtered so meat trading has gone underground and there are few if any hides being tanned for leather products. Hence (to the most part) the absence of shoes on the market.
• gumboots are no longer being manufactured as it is no longer profitable to import the PVC to make them.

This list is of course partial  but it is a start.

Fuel is for the most part available if you have hard currency. It is illegal to trade in cash foreign currency in Zimbabwe but the more desperate people get, the more inventive they become (and tolerant to the demands of the sellers). On the way out of town I stopped in at a small restaurant/cafe to chat to Gille the owner, whom I knew was desperate to buy fuel. I mentioned that I’d found an outlet that would sell any amount for a dollar (US) a litre, traded externally and apparently quite legally. He replied that he’d managed to source fuel from one of the major fuel companies for 76c litre but with the condition that he buy a minimum of 2000 litres. At lunch chatting to my friend Trevor, he mentioned that a potential buyer for his company admitted to selling fuel for $1.30 a litre. No small surprise that she was driving a very new Benz ML350!  This calls for a business plan. Whilst I am not that interested in becoming a fuel trader, I am interested in not being perpetually ripped off!

It’s depressing enough living here without the grumbling but we all persist at it. It’s a curious phenomenon; we grumble to the same people about the same things, day in and day out. I suppose that if we had a huge variety of things to grumble about we would not be able to grumble. Walking into the gym at lunchtime I stopped to grumble to Lucina (she’s Welsh but married to an Italian). It was a satisfying grumble. She grumbled about their water tank that had sprung a leak and emptied in the night. I grumbled about not being able to go places because of the expense of fuel (that’s my favourite grumble). When people ask “How’s it going?”, I don’t lie any more. “Grim” is the standard reply. Too few customers. Then the future, or absence thereof is mentioned and agreed upon. A few “I dunno”s are exchanged and we move on to the next grumble, somehow satisfied at the last grumble.  Excessively happy people are regarded with suspicion – have they discovered a source of milk? Why is their life so good that they cannot grumble?

The next grumble was with Brian on the way out of the gym. It was just a variation on a theme really. The theme is quite popular, how the amazing short sightedness of the government is killing the country financially. It’s worth mentioning. The latest price controls have caused all the supermarkets to become mostly empty resulting in massive VAT losses to the country. But a solution is at hand – just print more money. It’s slash-and-burn subsistence economics at its most explicit, don’t worry about tomorrow.

I am tired. Like most people I know I worry about money. Just existing is draining. I tasted some of Jenni’s dog food this evening (just in case I have to share when mine runs out). It was OK I suppose but I think I’d get bored of it quickly. I have not had a break for a year and though there is not much work to keep me occupied I still need to get away. But that costs money and where would I get the fuel…?

Every now and then we have a stab at being normal in Zimbabwe, you know, just do the things that would be totally normal elsewhere. Today it was the charity dog show put on by the ZNSPCA over at the Mukuvisi Woodlands which is a small game and nature park in the north east of Harare. It was very much a fun affair and there were all sorts of stands selling mostly junk. I entered Jenny in “The dog the judge would most like to take home” category and she won! We came away with a couple of bags of imported dog food (she was a bit wary of it tonight but then tucked in with gusto) and a couple of rosettes. One of the categories was “The best rescue dog” and the judge also gave some details of how the dogs were rescued. One little Jack Russell type was found tied to a stick by the side of the road to be sold as food. Others were found in various states of abuse. It was a testament to their subsequent care that all looked like normal, well adjusted dogs.

One of the stands was selling pickles and various types of chilli sauces under the name of Peter Piper’s Pickles. They are, or should I say, were, the best significant makers of such produce in Zimbabwe but due to the recent cut-pricing policy of the government can only afford to replace the bottle tops of the bottles that they use, never mind the contents. So, they are closing down and moving to the Cape. The owner is not selling his house here just yet, so like a lot of Zimbabweans he is an optimist.

The other attempt at normality is in the form of the Zimbabwe International Film Festival which is on this week. There’s quite a selection of movies from quite a number of countries, and some pretty good ones to boot. I saw an Israeli independent film yesterday entitled “Melanoma My Love” about an actor whose wife dies of melanoma and he and his doctor try and hide the truth from her. It was not entered into any competition but took the form of a pseudo documentary (it is a true story and the actor plays himself) and was shot in “amateur” style with a hand held camera. It was well done but not a “feel good” movie! So this coming week I’m taking a bit of time off to see (amongst others) a Japanese movie, South African, a Swiss, a Mozambican, a German etc. Of course I won’t be able to totally escape the dismal reality of life in Zimbabwe but I’ll have to try for a few hours of relief at least.

A while back I made a comment about the launch of yet another farmers’ union, The Zimbabwe National Farmers’ Union, which I suspected to be an attempt to “legitimize” the land grab (reform according to the Oxford English Dictionary is: n. removal of faults or abuses, esp. of oral or political or social kind; improvement made or suggested – somehow land reform
does not fit). I picked up a ZNFU flier in the farm office next door and sure enough, under FOUNDATION was; “.. In short the Union was founded as a vanguard of the land and agrarian revolution of the year 2000.” There is a lot of other nonsense too but one or two are gems such as …

VALUES: To exceed the expectations of each and every member whose farming needs is our primary purpose and mission through:-

• integrity
• hard work
• honesty
• diligence
• fairness
• impartiality
• professionalism (and the crowning jewel)
• respect for humanity

Right. Respect for humanity, I like that. A bit further on in another section the irony is revisited. In the days of Rhodesia, conservation amongst the white commercial farmers was enforced by amongst other things, the ICA’s or Intensive Conservation Areas whose committees regularly overflew farming areas to check that conservation laws and standards were being met e.g. no stream bank cultivation, firebreaks cleared etc. and those found to be at fault were visited and spoken to. It worked, and in those days Rhodesia had an enviable environmental record. It seems that the current government have noticed because lo and behold the ICA system is being reintroduced (under the auspices of the ZNFU)!

The pamphlet is full of all the right sort of stuff, stuff that brings a lump to the throat; VISION, MISSION, AIMS AND OBJECTIVES. Impressive wording too, the Union is restlessly implementing.. , to inculcate into farmers a thinking (hang on, I must look that up), to restore Zimbabwe’s status as the breadbasket of Africa.. , provide advice and articulate problems. But no mention is made of exactly HOW it’s going to be done, or for that matter, why Zimbabwe’s status as the breadbasket of Africa needs to be restored.

Running one’s own business occasionally requires sacrifices; this last month there was not enough money in the company account (and there still isn’t) to pay myself a salary. I was mystified about this for some time as I checked the account and there was sufficient to pay the income tax and myself. Now the income tax authority has got tired of getting dud cheques so they have set up a “system” to pay electronically. So having gone through the hassle of doing all that (only possible through the bank, not on the internet) I got round to paying myself. Oops, not enough money! Then on Wednesday I called into the bank to make some deposits and had a 50million dollar cheque returned to me undeposited. I was informed that I was not allowed to make cheque deposits of 50 million dollars or more; Reserve Bank regulations. $49,999,999.99 and less is OK but not 50 million. So for the sake of 1c I have less than US$25 in my personal account and am going to struggle to pay wages next week. Curiously one can transfer any amount electronically.

So the most important lesson learnt is this; the tax authority can go to hell, and income tax has to be balanced at the end of the year anyway, so in future they can take a low priority. If there is a future. I am working on the assumption that IF this country does “come right” the whole financial system will have to be overhauled so why get into a fix now for something that may well be lost in the future? Of course if the country does not come right then I should be paying as little as possible into the government coffers anyway as there is no future!

Last night I met Hannah at a local restaurant for dinner. We shared a starter of deep fried cheese and then she had a Thai green curry and I had the red version. For dessert Hannah tried the chocolate mousse which met with her approval and I had a banana fried in grated coconut. The coffee on offer was not the best so we did not have any. Wine was a local red which Hannah had sourced in a local supermarket that afternoon. I thought a bit light but Hannah assured me it was not headache material and she was right. Total bill was ZW$2 million (about US$10) including the tip.

Meanwhile desperate Zimbabweans were braving crocodiles, thugs and police patrols to find a new life and some food in South Africa. At least 80% of Zimbabweans are unemployed which may account for their inability to find food.

I have a lot of difficulty generating enthusiasm for my business these days. There is not much business to be enthusiastic about and no predictable upturn in sight either. So I look for other things. I found this wasp, probably a Chrysis species of cuckoo wasp in a drawer that I was repairing. It was too beautiful to ignore so I had to have a go at photographing it. Sadly it is beyond the capability of my little digital Canon Ixus which like all automatic cameras struggles with depth of field. Anyway, here it is. I will have another go tomorrow!

I’ve said it before – we are way too innovative in this country. We should be throwing the toys out of the cot at the smallest excuse but I guess that no-one is prepared to make a sacrifice just yet.

So you want to buy food? Here’s how to do it.

a) Speak to all and sundry and see how they do it or
b) spot an advert in the gym (as I did), email a request to the email address supplied, pay into an account the required amount and then on a specific day (today) meet in the carpark (with a host of other shoppers) of a well known junior school to collect the order from the supplier.

I got there a bit early so had time to peruse all the adverts on the nursery school wall for chickens and eggs and then someone was also selling potatoes from one of the classrooms. All today’s orders were short of eggs but as luck would have it there was another lady selling trays of eggs from the back of her pickup. Problem solved!  Someone else was giving out adverts for a farmers’ market on Saturday morning at which all manner of fresh produce is going to be traded. No, it was not cheap but everyone was VERY pleased to be able to get what they wanted. So, it has all come to pass just as the economists predicted; heavy handed implementation of price controls has just driven the black market harder and driven it further underground to boot.

Yesterday I was at THE social event on the art calendar. It was the annual Verandah Gallery charity art show. I have been collecting local artist’s work for some time now and though I know little about what is good art I do know what I like. My friend Caro who is the senior art teacher at a very posh girls’ school actually complimented me on my taste. I am a little suspicious though as I know she covets one of the works in my “collection”.

Well, you would not have known that Zimbabwe was in the grip of a terminal economic meltdown. The place was packed and lots of works were being sold although I suspect not necessarily to Zimbabweans. I guess US$200 is not a lot to pay for a work that you like but it is very much a luxury for me so despite perusing several works that I like it was not difficult to leave empty handed. A few years ago I did not have this problem so I guess my income has diminished substantially in real terms.

On Saturday my friend Gary, not the Mozambican one, phoned me in a bit of a panic. He has a game farm just outside Bulawayo and had shot and butchered an eland for consumption (there is no meat to be had in the butcheries) but having put the meat in a freezer and transported it back here, there was no power at his girlfriend’s house. So for the last couple of days I’ve had a freezer on a trailer in my back yard! We don’t seem to have too many power cuts here and it was not in much danger of getting stolen either. Anyway, I’ve done OK out of it all has he has left me a large bag of meat and another bag of bones for Jenni. We are becoming a nation of barterers.

I came home this evening to a large fire burning the bush at the end of the road. There were various farm workers around seeing that it did not get onto the farm where I live. What did surprise me though, was the sight of the same workers a short while later deliberately spreading the fire into the bush below my house (the wind was blowing it away). A few years ago that would have been a criminal offence. Now I guess it is seen as being pragmatic – if the bush burns now you don’t have to worry about it burning again until next year!

Southern Africa burns every dry season, which means the fires are starting in earnest about now. I should think the visibility is down to about 5km, the smoke is that bad. For a particularly good satellite photo check out http://eobadmin.gsfc.nasa.gov/NaturalHazards/natural_hazards_v2.php3?img_id=5145

Some years ago when the farm invasions were running at their peak I was coming back from a day’s paragliding on the Great Dyke. It was night time and a fire was raging by the side of the road. I watched it and saw the obvious metaphor for what was happening to the country at the time and by the time I got home decided I would have to put it into poetry. I’m not a great poet but I have finally done it in about 30 minutes total! Here it is, I make no apologies except that it took so long in gestation. It is angry poetry – I was angry then and I guess I still am. (I am open to suggestions for improvements from those more literally talented than I!)

I watched my country burn last night,
The flames were ecstatic, greedy and bright.
I watched the trees twist and I cried,
They could not run,
They just smouldered, died.

I watched my country burn today,
The flames were hot but seemed far away.
Smoke towered and billowed, drifted black.
The sun grew scared,
The birds turned their backs.

I will watch my country burn tomorrow,
I will see the pain, the hope and sorrow.
The sky will dim, the people afraid.
But who will listen –
Who will answer the pain?

How long will it burn, this fire, this cancer?
Can it burn forever, forever disaster?
Can we put out the flame – divert our fate?
Can someone help us –
Quell the horror and dull the hate?