Greetings in Shona usually go something like this; “Makadii?” (How are you?) The answer usually goes; “Tiripo, kana makadiiwo?” (We are well, if you are also well). Infused in this greeting is this society’s ethos. The recognition that our destinies are intertwined. That no person is an island. That we belong to the human family. That each person has responsibilities not just to themselves, but to the community to which they belong. That you are what you are because of others. Hunhu, ubuntu.

Last night l was in my office on Selous Ave working late when something happened that is symptomatic not just of the serious decay in this country, but perhaps also of the reason why as Zimbabweans we have not risen up and done something about our mess. It was about 8:45pm and all was quiet in this area of the Avenues, when a sudden scream rang out. It was a woman screaming for help. There was terror in her voice. Although such screams are common place in the area around Selous Avenue/ Livingstone Avenue/ Third Street going towards Fourth Street, as people fall prey to the thieves and robbers who haunt the area, they are still shocking and frightening when they happen. We all ran out of the office to look out. What normally happens (and l use the word normally advisedly) is that because it is so dark, (on account of there being no street lighting), you hear the agonised screams of a person as they succumb to the thieves, long before you see them running for dear life.  You peer into the dark but you cannot see the victims until they come to a lit up area near one of the offices. And so it was that last night we heard the screams of the woman long before we saw her. She was screaming for help and it appeared to us that the thieves were still in pursuit, shouting as they went after her. So loud were her screams that she drew the attention of a number of people who were in nearby offices. People were calling out to her to run towards the light. Hearts were pounding as we waited for her to emerge from the night. We were gratified to see an armed police officer who had been checking the nearby Beverley Bank ATMs for cash, emerge and run towards the screams. And then he stopped short. The woman emerged into the lit up area, as did her accosters.  They were about three police officers who were roughing her up. She was screaming that they were hitting her as she came up to the armed police officer who was her would-be rescuer. She kept asking “why are you hitting me? Why are you hurting me? What have l done?” She was clutching her handbag to her chest and there was real terror in her voice.

As they came to the lit up area where people had gathered, the police officers pulled back a little but continued roughing the woman up, pulling and shouting at her. All this without arresting her. The would-be rescuer was at a loss as to what to do l guess, given that these were his fellow police officers. He did not ask what was going on and he just started trailing after them as the three went off, still assaulting the woman. The three of us who had been watching this tragedy just stood impotently, consumed with a mixture of guilt, fear, helplessness and despair.

The security guards went back to their posts, muttering that she was probably a prostitute. The implication being therefore that she deserved whatever abuse the police officers were subjecting her to. Other people went off, muttering and wondering what she had done. Again the implication was that she must have done something to deserve the abuse, otherwise why would the police be doing that? 

No one problematised the role of the police. No one said that even if she had broken the law, the police should have arrested her and taken her into custody, not assaulted her like criminals. There were three of them; they could have done that easily.  Even if she was a commercial sex worker, that still did not give the police the right to rough her up as they were doing.

Now, l do not know the facts of the story. I do not know what she had or had not done.  I do know however that the police take an oath of office in which they swear to uphold the laws of the country. If someone is suspected of committing an offence, he or she should be arrested and taken into custody. As far as l could tell, the woman was not resisting arrest. One is therefore left wondering why the police were behaving as they were. I have my theories as to why, but will not go into them.

The guilt we felt at not having intervened kept pulling at us long after her screams had fallen silent, we kept wondering how she was, what had happened. We questioned whether they were real police officers or they had been thieves dressed as police officers.  We wondered perhaps if they had tried to proposition her and she had rejected their advances and therefore the assault and harassment was retaliation. We wondered if perhaps they had tried to steal from the woman and were roughing her up to facilitate this. (One certainly hears enough stories in which police officers are implicated in criminal activities) They were certainly not behaving like officers of the law as they assaulted the woman. 

Our guilt arose from the fact that we had kept silent when we should have spoken out. We had stood back when we should have stepped up and stepped in. We were relieved that it was not us and we were safe. We felt sorry for the woman but that was not enough to compel us to act.  We were afraid that the lawless louts would turn on us. We were afraid perhaps of the inconvenience, so we sacrificed the woman to her doubtful fate. We were after all working late because we had to. Getting ourselves involved would have meant that we would lose valuable time getting embroiled in a messy and dangerous argument with the apparently lawless police, or so we told ourselves.  The irony is that the incident so disturbed us that we could not continue working.

Our response l think is part of the problem we have in Zimbabwe. We all know what’s wrong and what’s right but no one is willing to do what it takes for the common good. The shelves are empty, but as long as l am managing to put food on my family’s table, who cares that my neighbour’s children are going to bed hungry? As long as l can access cash through various means, who cares that someone has been spending days and nights outside the bank waiting to withdraw their paltry money. We look at them, we feel sorry, we despair but we are relieved that it is not us standing in the baking sun as we go about our business. We do not intervene. We do not speak out when we should.  As long as l is managing, it is enough. Hatisisina hunhu. We have lost our ubuntu. That which makes us members of the human family.

I hope as the Prime Minister and his two deputy prime ministers are inspecting their swanky new offices in Munhumutapa Building, they are thinking of ways of healing our community and restoring our values. 

Here at Kubatana, we are enough of politicians fiddling whilst Zimbabweans starve. Our current electronic activism campaign encourages people to get in touch with the offices of the President and the Prime Minister designate to urge them to stop stalling and start governing.

Getting contact information for the President’s office, though, was no easy matter.

First off, when I used the numbers in the telephone directory, as soon as I asked for contact information they’d transfer me to the Ministry of Information. No wonder Zanu PF wants to keep control of the Ministry of Information. It would be too hard to reconfigure all the telephone lines to separate them from the numbers for the President’s office!

When I finally got through to the right person, I asked for their email address. I could hear the receptionist shouting across the office to one of her colleagues –

“These people want our email address. Can I give it?” She asked.

“Which people?” Her colleague asked.

“These people on the phone. They’re calling from Harare. They want the email address for our office. Can I give them?”

“Who are they?”

“They’re on the phone.”

“What do they want?”

“They want our email address can I give them?”

“No. Don’t give them our email address. We don’t know who they are.”

The whole exchange reminded me an awful lot of trying to get Zanu PF’s email address.

She then came back on the line and told me they weren’t on email so she couldn’t give me the email address. So I asked for fax number. She said the fax was down. So if I have an urgent message for the President’s office? How am I meant to get it to them? She told me to phone the Ministry of Information.

It took four more phone calls and uncountable inter-office transfers for them to eventually give me their fax number – and to get them to give me a fax tone when it rang.

This is exactly what needs to change in the new Zimbabwe. As much as we need government to start governing again, this must be a New government, with a new attitude about itself and its responsibilities to the people, and a new approach towards listening to Zimbabweans and responding to what we want.

Fax the President’s office on +263 4 251641 and let them know that you want a new government – and you want it now.

A recent CNN Opinion Poll indicates US Republican Vice Presidential Candidate Sarah Palin is well supported.  Among American men, 63% have a favorable opinion and among women, the figure is 53%.  Very scary, I think, the level of support for this mooseburger-eating, right wing fanatic, governor of a small, small state who has zero foreign policy experience.  Maybe it’s due to the side of the fence I’m on, but it seems the 47% of women who oppose Palin are a whole lot more vocal.  Gloria Steinem and Eve Ensler have both written thoughtful and detailed analyses of all that’s wrong with Palin.  Opposition is strong in cyberspace.  And I would add that this is happening in interesting and innovative ways. Five different people have forwarded me a letter written by Wasilla, Alaska resident Anne Kilkenny who knows Palin.  Despite her request not to do this, Kilkenny’s letter has made its way onto 100s of blogs. One even looks like an official US government-sponsored blog. I suspect it’s not official since the ad currently running reads:  How To Write A Sex Scene.  A Romance Author Gives A Peak At How She Does It.  Four different people have forwarded me an email from a couple of New Yorkers who encourage readers to send their views to womensaynopalin@gmail.com .  So far, 140,000 women have expressed their views.

One important element central to all of this commentary around Palin is similar to a set of arguments Alex Magaisa made in his article entitled:  Politics and prejudice: plight of Zimbabwean women.  It happens in various ways and to different degrees of unjust, unscrupulous, and sadistic objectification.  But still, world over women in politics tend to be viewed as just that.  Women in politics.  As opposed to non-sexed, non-gendered politicians involved in public service because they believe in their leadership qualities, and believe they have solid ideas.  It’s not a perfect parallel to look at female politicians in the US in comparison to female Zimbabwean politicians.  But, in a way, it’s like looking at two sides of a coin.  And both sides are bunk.

John McCain picked Sara Palin because he believes that any old woman will do.  As long as it’s a she, she is what will win him votes.  The situation in Zimbabwe, as Magaisa articulates, is such that female politicians signal more space for men to cast and further embed into the fabric of society objectifying eyes.  In paraphrasing Magaisa:  More space for men to ridicule women, not for their ideas, but about their private lives.  More space for men to describe in precise detail their wild imaginations or fantasies about a woman’s reproductive organs and how she uses them, etc.  I mean what kind of person would look at pictures of Grace Kwinjeh after she was beaten and come up with comments about “what they could ‘do’ with a woman endowed with her features, if given the chance.”

Anne Kilkenny made the important point that democracies require being able to distinguish between disliking and disagreeing.  She even went so far as to say:  I like Sarah Palin. I disagree with her.  Personally, I can’t go quite that far.  I both disagree with and dislike John McCain and Sarah Palin.  And more so, the politics and prejudices Magaisa describes are beyond just disagreeing.  All one can do is dislike.  And fight for change.

I waited for a good 2 hours, in a snaking queue of about twenty people who queue so often they now know each other by their first names. Instead of people joining the queue they jump into the queue calling and greeting each other with “hie, hie, or Tichie, TK”. This is all because of the minimum withdrawal limit which is keeping people in queues for a long time every day. The standards at the banks are getting poor by each passing day. Can you believe that at one time we used to get cold water and hot coffee at some of these banks?

Today I was close to the front door and there were about seven people in front of me. But actually there were not really seven, as five school-going girls just came from nowhere and sneaked in front of me. Isn’t there a specific age permitted by these banks for one to open a bank account?

Apart from these queue jumpers, there I was, at the front door of the bank and I made sure no one came and said ‘I am back blaz’. Then I heard a hoarse voice and a slight pat on my right shoulder.  “How are you this morning?” the minister said as he stepped into the bank. Inside the bank the minister was also doing some transactions but what surprised me is that I over heard him asking the balance from the lady teller and she replied “two million and seventy-five something, something” and he said “that’s fine, then leave the seventy-five something, something you are talking about”.

I was a bit shocked with the figure being taken out, and I thought of the 2 hours I had been queuing for $1000.00 which is not enough to take me home with a loaf of bread for the family.

The Pittburgh Post-Gazette suggests that we hold our applause because a group of corrupt incompetents are still firmly in control of Zimbabwe.

I couldn’t agree more.

They suggest that The Deal is costly and creative political theatre . . .

Mr. Mugabe as president, with his 31-member Cabinet in place, and makes opposition leader Morgan Tsvangerai prime minister, with his own Council of Ministers. One aspect of the new accord is that Zimbabwe now has two sets of ministers, each with his own entourage, luxury car and comfortable office. Then the Zimbabweans said, “Oh my goodness, we have fixed everything. Now’s it up to the international community to give us lots of aid.” (The resemblance to the current behavior of certain American financial institutions is purely coincidental.) The appropriate response to this appeal is a flat negative. Zimbabwe will be nowhere near being fixed until Mr. Mugabe is gone — thrown out of office or dead of natural or other causes. The situation of the Zimbabwean people is certainly pathetic, but there is no point in pouring money or other aid into this bottomless pit, particularly in response to creative political theater.

And creative political theatre it certainly is.

Tsvangirai’s immediate call for aid on Monday (Thursday saw the political parties deadlocked – again – over the allocation of ministries) really makes you wonder whether he’s got his head screwed on straight. Countries waiting in the wings with their bail out packages would do best to wait a while longer.

I’ve been reminded of a song from Evita called Rolling on in, Rolling on out. With just a few little adjustments it would seem to fit our situation quite well. Donors might like to bear the lyrics in mind before they reach for their cheque books.

And the money kept rolling in from every side
Bob’s and Morgan’s hands reached out and they reached wide
Now you may feel it should have been a voluntary cause
But that’s not the point my friends
When the money keeps rolling in, you don’t ask how
Think of all the people guaranteed a good time now
They’re using the hungry to open up the doors
Never been a fund like the inclusive government

Chorus:
Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Rollin’ on in, rollin’ on in
Rollin’ on in, rollin’ on in

Would you like to try a college education?
Own your landlord’s house, take the family on vacation?
The inclusive government and their blessed fund can make your dreams come true
Here’s all you have to do my friends
Write your name and your dream on a card or a pad or a ticket
Throw it high in the air and should our big boys pick it
They will change your way of life for a week or even two
Name me anyone who cares as much as the inclusive government

(chorus)
Rollin’ on out, rollin’ on out
Rollin’ on out, rollin’ on out

And the money will keep rolling out in all directions
To the poor, to the weak, to the destitute of all complexions (well maybe not)
Now cynics claim a little of the cash will go astray
But that’s not the point my friends
When the money keeps rolling out you don’t keep books
You can tell you’ve done well by the happy grateful looks
Accountants only slow things down, figures get in the way
Never been anything loved as much as the all inclusive government

(chorus)
Rollin’ on out, rollin’ on out
Rollin’ on out, rollin’ on out

On out

From the border town of Beit Bridge, Kubatana subscribers tell us that they want the new all inclusive government to

form a truth and reconciliation committee especially to investigate the terror campaigns before run off election
lift the cash withdrawal limit

Erasmus from Harare has some other demands

provision of food
kick start industry for production
restore rule of law
provision of health care
revamp our education system
improve the workers conditions
a new constitution within 18 months

Meanwhile Munyaradzi emailed us with this opinion

The fact that MDC and ZANU (PF) are failing to come up with a cabinet spells doom to this deal. Those who have everything to lose, that is ZANU( PF), are the ones who are probably throwing in the spanners. People are fed up with politicians who still think things are normal when ordinary people are starving. It is a shame that in this day and age someone in his right mind would continue to drive around in a 10 car or more motorcade. Teachers are being awarded only $10,000 per month. The way forward for this country is for the leaders to listen to what the people are saying. A deal without the ordinary person in mind is a dud. No matter how they are going share power (whose power?) they will not succeed to bring sanity to the political landscape. For one Zimbabwe Broadcasting Holdings has to be reorientated because they continue to paint the MDC in bad light. Why do they continue to refer to Mugabe as “comrade” while Tsvangirai is called “Mr”? What are they trying to show? ZIMPAPERS is equally to blame. In general the majority of our leaders should mind their language if they want to promote national healing. They owe the whole nation an apology for failed policies and for polarising the country. They could have stopped this rot long back.