Okay so maybe it’s not such a good idea to go and watch a film about the Rwandan genocide a week before Zimbabwe’s umpteenth election, and with groups of Zanu PF trawling Harare’s streets wearing t-shirts emblazoned with Mugabe’s face and the slogan “Fists of Fury”, but a girl’s got to get out of the house, and it was Francophone week after all. After the film, to calm my nerves, I trundled through dimly lit Harare to have dinner at a little Portuguese place called Cascais Cascais, otherwise known as Cash Cash because they don’t, like everyone else, accept cheques anymore. My partner and I sat down and looked at the menu, and then we looked at each another knowing that we didn’t have enough cash on us for the house special – peri peri chicken and chips. Gideon Gono, the Governor of Zimbabwe’s Reserve Bank, recently ruled that Zimbabweans can only withdraw Z$500 million (less than US$10) a day. Yip, that’s right. As we were counting our wad to see what we could afford the lights went out. And the candles came on but luckily this power cut was a short one. In the end I opted for cheap pork chops which arrived at the table quivering with floppy fat looking like they’d been grilled over a one bar heater. Nearby a group of Southern African Development Community (SADC) election observers chowed down like there was no tomorrow.

On Easter Sunday I thought I’d pop in on a rally organized by Morgan Tsvangirai, the president of the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). I was spurred into action by a text message from a friend: This is Big, it read. So I threw on my bright green and yellow Brazil t-shirt, donned my Fendi sunglasses and headed across the city to an open space next to the Sheraton Hotel. I arrived to find a couple of thousand MDC supporters chanting and dancing in anticipation of the fat man arriving. To my delight the throngs thought I was some Brazilian diplomat and stepped aside to let me pass unhindered shouting “This is how we do things in Zimbabwe!”

I didn’t hang around for the political speeches which are always terrifically boring and went, instead, in search of an Easter Egg. A hunt like you’ve never seen before – I stopped at three supermarkets where there were no eggs of any kind, no bread, no milk. In fact not much of anything at all. What we do have on our shelves are very expensive South African imports when what we need are reasonably priced Zimbabwean products. Instead of an Easter Egg I bought a packet of Simba Mexican Chili chips for Z$100 million. But speaking of what’s available, there doesn’t seem to be a shortage of the local brand of condom – Protector Condoms. Granted they’re really cheap but often I see men making sure to buy protection. The staff of life – the odd loaf of bread and a packet of condoms. Walking and running the streets of Harare its common to find discarded used condoms on the road side and on cycle tracks. Zimbabweans are fucking their pain away.

I was running my dog along a road in Greendale and I came upon a group of Mugabe’s Zanu PF youth busy putting up posters of the old dictator shaking his fist. I let them know what I thought of them pasting their Bob posters over all the MDC and Simba Makoni election posters, saying it’s evident that their boss is fearful of legitimate and credible opposition.

At a recent dinner party people joked about Zimbabwe’s version of the Bermuda Triangle. We have the Bob Triangle – people have lost their livelihoods, farms, vendor stalls, businesses, their sanity and their self-esteem. We Zimbabweans might be on our knees but where there’s an election, there’s hope. There is much to hold dear in Zimbabwe, even still, even now after all these years of repression. Novelist John Berger sums up how I feel in one of his dispatches on survival and resistance:

With hope between the teeth comes the strength to carry on even when fatigue never lets up, comes the strength, when necessary, to choose not to shout at the wrong moment, comes the strength above all not to howl. A person, with hope between his or her teeth is a brother or sister who commands respect. Those without hope in the real world are condemned to be alone. The best they can offer is only pity. And whether these hopes between the teeth are fresh or tattered makes little difference when it comes to surviving the nights and imagining a new day.

Comrade Fatso is keeping us inspired and fired UP with his daily election blog. He is one of Zimbabwe’s leading activist spoken word poets – you can find out more about Comrade Fatso by visiting his web site. In the meantime here is his post from the streets of Harare.

Today is peaceful. Calm. Like an anesthetised patient having her stomach slit open. We drove from the elite suburbs of Borrowdale to the peopled townships of Highfields. The queues of the morning had tired into afternoon strolls into empty polling stations. All over this expectant, pregnant town there was a feeling of calm. ‘Peace’. The vote happened. We went through the motions. But it’s a tense peace. Inside each polling station is an agent of oppression – a police officer. Youth militia parade townships ‘peacefully’. As I write on the calm street outside the Book Cafe there are twenty police officers sitting menacingly underneath a tree. Waiting. Yes, there is peace. As long as you vote and shut up. As long as you don’t disturb this fragile shack they have painted ‘peace’. Peace is not the absence of war. Peace can also be the presence of rigging. This is where we stand today. In a peaceful election where my comrade, Godobori, registered to vote in the town of Chitungwiza, had to go to different polling stations in various suburbs of the next door town of Harare after he had been ‘moved’ on the voter’s roll. He finally voted at 6:15pm. It is a calm election of ghost voters and living human beings who are dead to the voters’ roll. The rigging has already begun as dreams are stolen while dreamers sleep. But democracy isn’t about putting an X on a piece of paper every five years. Democracy means people reclaiming their lives and running their communities. Democracy means power at the grassroots where decisions are made face-to-face in neighbourhoods. Democracy means fighting to reclaim your power. So these elections will be determined not by the rigged result but by the people’s reaction. ZANU (PF) want to steal our dreams and tell us it was a nightmare. We have to turn our dreams into action.

For Daily Election Blogs by other MAGAMBA! poets and activists see www.myspace.com/magamba

Gerry Whitehead based in the Lowveld has sent in a situation report to keep us up to date with how the election went. Here’s what he has to report:

Polling stations run out of ballot papers
The following polling stations had run out of ballot forms by 11.30 am and were turning people away: -
Chiredzi West constituency.
Mukwazi Polling Station
Chigwiti Polling Station
Mkwasine Secondary School Polling Station
SD Adventist Primary School Polling Station
Polly Clinic Polling Station

The MDC (TSV) Chief election agent Nelson Muzamani spoke to the Chief Election Officer in Chiredzi and he said “it is out of my control”. He was aware of how many ballot forms he required. The rally that was held in these areas indicated that these were strong MDC (TSV) areas.Thousands of people were turned away from these polling stations and never got to vote, many were very angry.Also in this constituency ZANU PF were distributing maize 300 meters from the Chisamiso Primary School Polling Station.

Voting equipment and materials arrive late
Chiredzi North Constituency. Voting material and ballot boxes arrived late at many polling stations which meant that the people only started voting after 8.30am. There was a mix up with two polling stations getting the wrong voters lists in this constituency which resulted in some 800 people being unable to vote. In 7 hours only 4 people managed to vote. The police chief and the Chief Election Officer in Chiredzi were advised but by 6.30pm nothing had been done about it.

The Chiredzi constituencies are huge and mostly without communications so this is just a little of what is really going on. I believe that ZANU PF have planned this very carefully and believe that the SADC observers and the international communities will just accept it. All indications are that the Zimbabwean people will not accept ZANU PF winning.

I’ve got a direct line to God. Well maybe I’m getting a bit carried away since I just get to speak with Will but he is from Vatican Radio after all. I’ve ended up being one of their contacts in Zimbabwe when they want an update on the mood of this place. Of course I can only ever give them my fairly narrow view of what its like in Harare BUT I do try.

Generally I don’t like getting up early. I particularly don’t like getting up early when I’m slightly hungover from mixing my cocktails and feeling quite nauseous from eating a bucket of spring onion dip and an enormous quantity of neat little raw vegetables. So when I was roused at 10 to 6 this morning with a cup of Tanganda and a suggestion that I shake myself into voting mood I wasn’t all that amused. Nevertheless I tripped down to Courtney Selous School hoping for a good experience. And it was. The queue moved fairly quickly; people were jovial and the process was efficient and friendly.

But driving around the city after voting I must say that the low turnout at suburban polling stations is really worrying. Are many people not registered? Or have people simply lost hope in the electoral process? Have we experienced one stolen election too many?

Times might be tense here in Zimbabwe but hey, you’ve got to have a laugh – just don’t press 1 for Zanu PF. To listen to this audio spoof, click here

As Saturday’s election draws closer I’ve been reflecting on our individual and collective disempowerment as Zimbabwean citizens. Take the issue of political posters for example. All over the city private businesses like fuel stations,cafes and office blocks have had (predominantly) Zanu PF posters pasted on their walls. Ordinary home owners have also experienced this. Instead of ripping these posters down and asserting their right to keep their private property free of politricking (if they so wish) Zimbabweans cower and refuse to stand up to Mugabe’s regime. I can’t imagine that many South Africans would tolerate the image of shower-head Zuma on their private property without their consent.

And then there are the taxi and bus drivers who bow to the military and the police demands for free travel on public transport.

And long queues of long suffering Zimbabweans wait patiently in line for cash while allowing men in uniform to bully their way to the front so that they get first dibs at the little cash thats available.

What will it take to end this? What will it take for Zimbabweans to demand equality and justice?

If, and that’s a big IF, there’s a change of political leadership in Zimbabwe, we need more than cosmetic political change. Tsvangirai’s campaign message has been “Morgan is More“. But we need more than Morgan; we need each and everyone of us to confront our lack of courage in keeping our politicians and civic leaders accountable. We need to stop relinquishing our power and outsourcing our social and political responsibilities.

Zimbabwe’s rehabilitation requires far more than a X on election day. It requires a change of behaviour, and a change of heart. And the maturity to demand More from ourselves as active and aware citizens.