Last Friday I attended a post-budget (someone called it a post-mortem) meeting hosted by AMG Global at the Chapman golf club in Harare. Various stakeholders – largely private businessmen, finance directors and company MDs converged to discuss the economic implications of the budget presented by the Finance Minister, dubbed the ‘People’s Budget‘. Don’t worry about what I was doing there . . but just know I am no expert in Finance jargon and issues. Somehow, most of the budget implications escape me when they are presented first time around, till the Eric Blochs start interpreting the jargon later.

During breakfast a colleague couldn’t help but exclaim that he’d never come across a government that is so against the development of its people until he came to Zimbabwe – and this budget, with the unexplained financing of the $1,76 quadrillion deficit – was just a “way of the tomcats f-wording with us!” Frankly, it was my first time to hear the word quadrillion actually used in a sentence, let alone a national budget. A nun representing a local FBO had earlier stood up to comment on some of the government’s policies especially on import tax. That one cannot get donations of brand new things from abroad anymore, especially vehicles, or even shoes because the tax burden is so heavy you could almost ask the donor to first thoroughly use whatever they want to donate, so that it has a worn appearance when it passes through customs.

Dr Honest Zhou (UZ) who did the post-budget analysis stressed that the budget would be overtaken by inflation even before roll out and would really be lucky to survive the first six months. He also bemoaned the fact that the budget was ‘unfriendly’ as it based its hopes on the ‘rationalized’ anticipation of an unprecedented growth in agriculture and a bumper harvest.

One banker raised concerns that the budget deficit would probably be financed through just printing more money because there is no “shocking limit to what these guys are capable of doing.” With the PDL running at $23 million, the banker moaned the fact that the Finance Ministry are seemingly oblivious of other major drivers of inflation apart from declining industrial output and depreciating local currency. He suggested that “increased output calls for increased capacity utilization, and the country could do with a bit of fiscal discipline and cutting down on unnecessary government expenditure”. Speaking of which, does the president really need that long motorcade?

I was surprised to note that government also intends to place serious tax impositions on informal traders. But how do you identify who is an informal trader (and who isn’t) and tax them? I can see life slowly becoming more brutish for cross-border traders who will be easily identified in the tax net. Find a way of taxing the guys at Road Port and I will call you a genius, better yet, give you a standing ovation. Some people just wont stop ‘f- wording’ with us for sure.

I usually like the view from my office window, but not when all l can see is the human misery as people queue for hours on end for cash.

One of Harare’s most exciting and outspoken poets is Comrade Fatso. If you’re in Harare then go along to the Mannenberg Jazz Club in Fife Avenue Shopping Centre on 1st December or if you’re in Johannesburg on the 8th December give him some support at Bassline and make some noise for freedom in Zimbabwe!

Visit Comrade Fatso’s web site

Here’s a taste:

The Word Is A Bird

Some say silence is golden
But silence is shit
‘Cause words can hit
But they can heal
They can liberate us from what we feel
‘Cause mazwi acho akasimba
Anogona kutibatsira kwatirikuenda
‘Cause words are warriors
And their great gifts are glorious
But politicians wanna sell us words that are worthless
Creating a populace that’s wordless
Throwing curse upon curse on the word’s carcass
But the word is a bird and birds fly regardless
Flying above the durawalls of their so-called silence
The word still heard above their virile violence
‘Cause you can bomb the word but you can’t keep it silent

(cc) Comrade Fatso 2007

I’m sitting at work on an overcast Harare Thursday morning drinking Brazilian coffee and eating South African Marie biscuits. My breakfast in a failed state. I liked the reference that Comrade Fatso made in one of his blogs calling Zimbabwean supermarkets “hardware stores” seeing as they’re just empty shelves. I mean I’d buy Zimbabwean coffee and biscuits if I could, but I can’t. It’s either imported, or nothing.

On Tuesday I went along to my favourite cafe called St Zita in Borrowdale Village to drink a flat white and do some work. They could only offer tea on account of a power failure (aka Mugabe’s mismanagement). The tea pot came without a lid. Apparently the lid had just been broken but one wonders whether they only have one tea pot in the entire establishment.

Tomorrow is the Million Man March which is meant to illustrate Zimbabweans support for the ruling party, Zanu PF. Free transport is being laid on and The Herald suggests that our capital city will see a convergence of Mugabe fans. Let’s see what happens.

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the zeros
One currency following another
Laden with money counters and queues

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the bearers
Millions turn overnight to billions
Blossoming even as Gono gazes

. . . with apologies to Fiddler on the Roof (the musical, not Gono)

I was at Harare International Airport yesterday. With Zambia Airways deciding to withdraw their services, our description of our airport being international is largely attributed to the fact that South African Airways and Kenya Airways still find it worthwhile flying into Zimbabwe. Anyway whilst I was waiting for my partner to come through customs I noticed this long queue of people trying to get into the airport. The crowd was being marshaled by the airport police. What were they after? Cash. Imagine that the desperation to get money makes you go to the airport to use a small banking agency in the arrivals hall.

Welcome to Zimbabwe, and please join a queue.

There was a time when returning friends and family would bring home luxuries. I got an email asking me if there were any last minute basics that I needed. These days basics mean items like toilet paper and toothpaste. I thought I’d chance my arm and say a peppermint aero which I got as well as some fabulous other bits and pieces to keep my pecker up. My partner tends to load her backpack as full as possible which makes her look like she’s about to topple backwards. Over correcting means that she looks like she’s praying which might be a good idea if you’re a returning resident.