In the Mail and Guardian I read that the Gauteng High Court has ruled that South Africa must prosecute Zimbabweans, accused of torture, if they ever appear in South Africa. This according to their obligations under the Rome Statute, which they signed (and which led to the founding of the International Criminal Court).

On the same page, Minister Chinamasa made some very strong comments. It is a “sad moment”, an “Ex-Rhodie plot”, and the South African justice system was now “in disrepute”. And he explains how it will happen, the steps that must be taken, to get a Zimbabwean criminal to South Africa.

However, he never says once that no crime was committed. That no torture was conducted. That the people here are innocent. So it would seem, by neglecting to bring up this first most obvious point, (their innocence), that he is admitting to the fact that torture took place in Zimbabwe in 2007 when the Harare headquarters of the MDC were raided by Zimbabwe authorities.

I stumbled into one of Harare’s 24 hour emergency clinics early on Monday morning. I arrived clutching a hot water bottle, hair like an aged rocker. I looked like a slightly upmarket boozer tramp. I was called through fairly swiftly. Then I waited awhile until a man came in. He looked quite cheery given the early hour. He asked me how I was and I said not very well and he said I can see that. So why ask, dumbnuts, I thought. Anyway he stuck a thermometer in my ear for a quick second and yanked it out again. No cleaning or anything. We’re cool and groovy sharing earwax here in the Sunshine City. Then he took my blood pressure. In the meantime I gave him a long and involved rundown of how I was feeling and what my body was doing (be afraid). And he nodded and grimaced in all the right places. Then he said, the doctor will be with you shortly. I’d been telling my life story to the orderly.

After about ten minutes the doctor came in and we went through the whole splurb again. I got two injections and there was an attempt at a drip which didn’t work out too well. The needle wasn’t in straight apparently. I’d had to give the doctor the low down on my “stool formation” (sadly lacking any hint of shape or form) so I was a bit surprised when he gave me a tiny container in which to place a stool sample. A bit like asking an old age pensioner with bad fitting dentures out to a lunch of biltong. Nevertheless I accepted this mission impossible and went off clutching my small receptacle.

In my hour in the clinic I’d probably spent about ten minutes being attended to by a “medical professional”. All the other time was spent waiting and wondering whether someone had remembered me in my fluffy slippers in cubicle number 1.

The next morning I went off to see a homeopath who spent an hour and a half with me, and who actually spoke. I forgot to mention that the emergency clinic doctor could barely muster a mumble. She heard me out and came up with a suggestion of what I might have – a viral infection – and sent me home with some remedies. The emergency clinic is covered by my medical aid but my homeopath isn’t. Who gave me the best treatment is undisputed.

In the meantime I’d managed the impossible and the unformed stool was captured and secured. I won’t say how. For a couple of days its been smouldering like some form of biological warfare in the corner of my bedroom. Now that I’m feeling better, and with the said stool dating back to Monday, I’m wondering if its beyond testing. So now what? I’m not keen on anyone doing juju on my poo so I’ll have to return it to the loo. A sharp reminder of how levelling it is dealing with your own shit.

Too often people write analysis and commentary on Zimbabwe without ever really immersing themselves in our country, and its complicated politics. So I was very pleased to come across a blog by Craig Barnett who visited Zimbabwe and has taken the time to share his experience and reflections.

Living at Hlekweni, I gradually came to think that the reality is considerably more complex and ambiguous than this, and increasingly started to question the way our media represents Zimbabwe and other non-Western nations (especially those that are usually represented as outside the ‘international community’ of US allies).

More here

From a Kubatana member:

On my way to the Tuku concert on Sunday 6th of May, I passed by the entrance to Monomatapa. I got closer to Tuku’s car than I did to the star himself. The concert was packed. After the fireworks my friend and I were pushed up against some metal barriers as a gang of youths swept through the crowd, with either the hot intention to swipe a few cellphones or the euphoria of Ishmael and Tuku’s jamming swelling their hearts.

Hello to the Zimbabwe Republic Police (TRAFFIC Section) and the Greendale District Office.

There’s this speed trap on Coronation Road in Greendale. The speed limit is 60. There are a couple of very rusted speed limit signs on this road. None the less the limit is 60 and we shouldn’t speed.

BUT, take Kennedy Road and you wonder about the ZRP’s priorities. Kennedy is being used by Kombi drivers as a substitute for Arcturus Road. Why? Because of the potholes and traffic lights and traffic on Arcturus. These three things serve to slow Kombi’s down which is what they don’t want.

So they use Kennedy which is a 2.5km stretch of road that has one non-working traffic light (that’s meant to help school kids from Courtney Selous Junior to cross the road), no speed limit signs, and mostly not potholes.

A ZRP speed trap is most definitely needed on Kennedy where kids walk and cycle to school. Its a suburban road that should need be used as a main thoroughfare.

A Stop sign, not a Give Way sign is most definitely needed at the intersection of Alfred Road and Kennedy where Kombi’s don’t give way (nevermind the ridiculous permanent 6 – on average – policemen and women who fine people for not stopping outside OG’s in Mount Pleasant).

Do the ZRP really want to make a difference in communities, to make them safer, and more hospitable? Or do they just want to position themselves for the easy work and personal benefits?

Silence is a source of great strength.
Lao Tzu

It’s a busy day, and you’re inundated by non-stop emails, text messages, phone calls, instant message requests, notifications, interruptions of all kinds. The noise of the world is a dull roar that pervades every second of your life. It’s a rush of activity, a drain on your energy, a pull on your attention, until you no longer have the energy to pay attention or take action. It’s an illness, this noise, this rush. It can literally make us sick. We become stressed, depressed, fat, burnt out, slain by the slings and arrows of technology.
The cure is simple: it’s stillness.

More from DesignTaxi here