When it was reported that Zimbabwe’s HIV prevalence had dropped, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. For years our televisions and radios had been blaring HIV awareness messages ad nauseum, and apparently it had worked. The average Zimbabwean seemed very knowledgeable about HIV, how one could and couldn’t contract the virus, what one could do to protect themselves and condoms could be found in even the most remotely located bottle store. Even at Chiadzwa, before the soldiers, the dogs and the guns, I’m told you could be guaranteed to find four things: cheap alcohol, prostitutes, diamonds and condoms.

We’ve spent some time speaking with young people about HIV and sexuality and I’m beginning to think that there’s another reason why the prevalence is so low. I believe the statistics that are available do not truly reflect the Zimbabwean population. Young Zimbabweans, especially those in the highest risk groups are not getting tested and it’s because they are afraid. Attitudes about what it means to have HIV have not changed since the 80s. Back then having HIV meant it was only a matter of time before you succumbed and died horribly of an opportunistic infection. HIV was shrouded in mystery, like some sort of evil spirit, no one wanted to admit that they so much as knew it existed. This attitude has not changed over the last two decades.

Since the advent of treatments that prevent mother-to-child infections in the 90s, there is an entire generation of Zimbabweans, who are now reaching adulthood who are not addressed by HIV awareness campaigns, and there is nothing is the school curriculum that speaks to their particular set of circumstances. Now reaching young adulthood, this generation of young people has many questions about their status; life and their place in societies that have gone unanswered making life almost un-navigable. Our discussions also reveal that even amongst people living with HIV, and the families that support them, there is a general lack of knowledge about the course of the disease in complement to ARV treatments and proper nutrition.  During the discussion we were told a story about a young girl born with HIV whose father refused to let her take her ARVs because she looked healthy. ‘Hasisina chirwere.’ He said. (She’s not sick anymore)

Donor organisations are notorious for being fickle, and for funding programmes and community organisations that meet their agenda at that point in time, which then creates contradictions and gaps in information and in effect reduces the efficacy of the entire communication exercise.  There seems to be copious amounts of donor funding going towards patronising and poorly constructed awareness campaigns. How often do people actually pay attention to these? And are they even likely to create behaviour change? It is frustrating that in comparison, very little funding goes towards addressing the gaps in knowledge that have existed for twenty years, a consequence of this being found in the attitudes of health workers in the HIV field, who reportedly are creating stigma around the patients they are supposed to treat. Moreover, there is little or no funding going towards that generation of young people born with HIV that is coming of age today. The campaigns that are in the public space create the wrong impression in the public mind about HIV, that the only means of transmission is through sex, and more recently sexual networking, therefore a young child with HIV must either have had a sugar daddy or been raped.  There is no room in this for an alternative narrative, and that is victimisation.

Everyday I have a fight. Everyday I exchange words with some man. Not my own man, just some random guy I won’t remember seeing soon after I’ve finished biting his head off. It’s not my fault though they make me do it. They enrage me! In fact they enrage the entire city.

I’m talking of course about combi drivers and/or hwindis. These men have us up in arms over a few small pieces of silver. Fighting our way to and from home, EVERYDAY! They almost always act surprised when you ask them for your change. Before you get into a combi, they treat you so well; asking you if you want to go where they are going, and even helping you carry any luggage you might have. But once you’re in, they reveal their true selves, demanding payment for the trip, with change of course, even before you’ve safely taken a “seat”.

All combi users dread/loath the days when they have no coins or tickets for the journey ahead, because we all know that we will most likely  have to put up a fight for change. Often passengers are given their change, combined with someone else’s (dollar for 2 or kuchatiswa) and left to somehow split this money on their own.

We are faced with such tremendous inconveniences for what should be a purely mundane activity – taking the bus. As passengers, we have had to sometimes become excessively aggressive, even towards each other, in order to walk out of combis with change that rightfully belongs to us. In many instances, these daily battles are fruitless, leaving us frustrated.

I have now taken to praying for peaceful and uneventful trips, because I know that with my terribly short temper, I will NEVER hesitate to lock horns with any hwindi. My anger in these situations usually overrides logic, reason, fear and especially my better judgement. I don’t suffer fools easily, and why should anyone, for that matter.

I thought that the purpose of a hwindi is to collect money from passengers and then sort out the change. Now, if we have to sort out our own change, what then is the point of having a hwindi who takes up valuable space in the combis, adding to our discomfort? I hear that combi drivers in South Africa go it alone. There is no such thing as a hwindi there. Lucky them!

Something needs to be done about this change issue! Below is my personal (and I’m sure, shared) plea to hwindis, combi drivers and owners alike, all over Harare:

Dear combi-people

I’m sure that by now you are aware of the change problem in your industry. What are you doing in order to alleviate some of the stress this is causing us, your ‘valued’ customers, and even yourselves? Aren’t you tired of fighting with us all day, everyday, about the same thing? It’s now time for you all to put your hands together and come up with a convenient and lasting solution to this madness.

I would like to commend the owners and operators for Westgate, Ashdown Park, Mabelreign etc. for managing to organize an official, nearly trouble-free ticketing system for their routes. Why don’t the rest of you follow their example? In fact, why is there not an official, cashable (possibly pre-paid), acceptable ticket for the whole of Harare? Surely that is possible?

Yours truly,
Enraged Passenger

“Fidel Castro celebrated his 85th birthday outside of the public spotlight… with little fanfare around the aging revolutionary,” thus it was reported 13 August. Different strokes for different folks.

Yes, it is entitled “the accident”, and I have tried but can’t seem to bring myself to think about the detail of my husband’s accident, 4 weeks ago today, let alone put it on paper. So much for the therapeutic benefits of writing. So we shall just put it on the back burner for a while (don’t hold your breath).

I played golf yesterday afternoon with my family. Needless to say, my son and husband took me to the cleaners. I was going to say they put me to shame, but let’s not rub it in. My son is 4 and my husband played with one hand (his left).  My daughter bowed out gracefully early on, after several swipes at the ball. The poor sod has inherited my lack of ball skills and athletic talent. I don’t know whether to warn her now that she will always be in the snail race at sports day, with the overweight people, and will inevitably be selected for tug-of-war simply because everyone will feel she is being left out. I didn’t display any of my daughter’s dignity and continued to slog away for 9 holes. With age has come a certain perseverance … gritted teeth, clenched jaw … I will not be outsmarted by a damn ball @$#%!

But the sky was blue, we saw lots of birds, and I only lost 3 balls. My husband, Graham eventually suggested teeing off from the other side of the water. In my case it was a case of “see water – must make splash”. It was instinctive, I just couldn’t fight it.

This morning I find myself miraculously free of aches and pains. I’m so proud – this MUST mean I’m fitter! But watch, tomorrow I will be unable to brush my teeth!

I wonder sometimes at the choices of people in positions of power Our Dear Leader has made. It would be myopic to place the entire burden of responsibility for our economic and social quagmire on his shoulders. Yet, surely the man who answers to no one when making these appointments must bear a large portion of the blame.

Having had to assemble my own crack team for a project recently, I am beginning to understand the difficulties of placing the right person in the right position, and, trusting that person to do their job the way I wish it done. Sometimes I am disappointed, and sometimes it works out. Having a relationship with that person makes it difficult to criticise them, especially when there is always an excuse for work that is not done properly.

Today’s Newsday reports that while speaking at the funeral of Rtd. General Mujuru Our Dear Leader ‘conceded he was surrounded by wannabes and corrupt people, but admitted there was nothing he could do to stop the virus.’ The article goes on to say that he is becoming increasingly lonely following the deaths of his closest comrades.

While Our Dear Leader is only a man, and an old man at that, he cannot be everywhere to watch everyone at once, despite what the ZANU PF Women’s and Youth Leagues would have us believe. That is the purpose of organisation and bureaucracy, but even the soundest strategy can fail without adequate leadership at every level. In many respects it is a case of letting things get out of hand, and for that he is solely to blame. In the terms of his own paternal metaphor: a father is supposed to punish his children when they do wrong, not reward them with more trips abroad, more power, a continued stay in office, and protection from would-be opponents.

Our Dear Leader is in his twilight now, a time for much reflection. If gossip and rumour are to be believed, he is making plans for an exit strategy, but in whose hands will he place the burden of steering Zimbabwe and the party into the future? Who will replace him in executing his vision? Even those who are quickest to point to his failings, have themselves failed in this regard.  The leaders of organisations to whom we would entrust with safeguarding us against avaricious and power-hungry party and government officials are themselves afflicted with the very same demons. The MDCs, with their factionalism, and embarrassing public infighting, can hardly claim the moral high ground. Civil society is not blameless either, with founder-directors refusing to vacate office to make way for a renewal of ideas.

Our leaders regardless of where their spheres of influence lie are afraid of change, and ironically it is those who have the loudest voices in calling for it that are most afraid. As many have said before me, ours is a crisis of leadership. But as a society, we should look to ourselves before we point to the failings of our leaders. Our leaders reflect who we are; if they are corrupt it is because we allow them to be so. If they are avaricious it is because we allow them to take from us without raising a single voice.

The first edition of Tedx was launched in Harare under the name Tedx Harare. This independently organised event was packed with interesting speakers, music performances and Tedtalk videos. The idea of TED started 25 years ago in USA to create spaces for idea sharing and discussions. And finally it has now reached Zimbabwe.

The speakers included some of Zimbabwe’s researchers, entrepreneurs and artists and they all lived up to expectations with inspirational and stimulating performances and presentations. The presentations created an environment where everything was just free from any political and religious agenda. Zimbabwe is awash with so much talent that it begs the question how and where we are getting it wrong as a country. Among the most inspirational presentations was the one done by researcher and academic Oswald Jumira. Oswald explored and shared ideas on how we can make technology work for the next generation and us. He talked on how technology creates challenges, which can be turned into opportunities and make our country move forward and compete in the global village. In the presentation he emphasized the need for government, companies and individuals to invest in technology since it strengthens the future of the next generation.

In one of the Tedtalk videos, Chimamanda Adichie explores the Danger of a Single Story. This Tedtalk got me thinking especially on the way news is reported in Zimbabwe by different newspapers and organisations in mainstream media. A good example of the danger of a single story is how election campaigning in Zimbabwe has caused a lot of stereotyping among citizens. One lesson to learn from this presentation is not to make early judgements on a particular situation or story and not to work on assumptions. This was a wonderful way of educating people about the single story perspective.

Live music performances during the breaks from Tina Watyoka added more life to the event. The other presenters who left the audiences with questions and inspirational answers included Max Soutter and Sarah Norman.

The next edition Tedx Harare is expected to be bigger with more speakers coming to share their ideas and innovative skills with the people of Zimbabwe.