Landlords, I will be most reliable when it comes to paying rent. I promise to pay rentals on or before the 26th of every month. I am looking for a one/two bed flat in the avenues and would want to pay $250-$300. So please just text me I will call you back if you have one. I will be very reliable and smart and will make sure your flat is kept nicely. Also note that my family is too small it’s just me and my beautiful, smart wife.

Dips please help me, Eddie.

No joke, the above is an advert that appeared on Dipleague Vol 27, Issue 123 of yesterday. For those who are not on it or do not know it, it is an email based community platform, originally tailored for those in the ‘Diplomatic’ and NGO community to post adverts for goods and services offered or requested, among other things.

When I saw the advert above, I couldn’t control my laughter for at least 2 minutes. That’s because I have been at that level of desperation where you’ll say anything, including the ridiculous – to make your case stand out among the throngs of other desperate home seekers mushrooming in Zimbabwe’s capital. After moving into a beautiful flat in April this year, I was gutted when a few weeks later I discovered that the ceiling has cracks that frequently leak water onto my floor and property from the flat above. It is such a nightmare because both my neighbor upstairs and absentee landlord does not seem to give a rat’s ass about it.

I found Eddie’s email particularly fascinating because it symbolizes the desperation of the condition of those of us who are home seeking, are of no fixed abode and not yet at a stage of affording one’s own property. Trying to capture the sympathy of prospective landlords is the one thing we all have in common and many a times, I have come across things like: young married couple with no children, looking for accommodation…or, mature white lady seeks flat to rent in town or Avondale, or young single man working for NGO seeking flat.

It is that bad, and what it means is that this has astronomically pushed up rentals, which is likely to worsen the urban accommodation crisis. What also contributes significantly to the problem is that today’s young working class prefer to live in areas closer to the central business district for the convenience they offer in terms of transport and availability of utilities like water and electricity.

Although the dollarized economy has created a new caliber of noveau riche, this is also ironically a time when the young middle and working class earn the greenback but cannot build homes for themselves because just getting a stand (and in the right area) is next to impossible; the banks simply aren’t up to lending (especially without collateral outside one’s salary) or it is just too expensive to build. The only other option is to rent and this has ultimately left tenants at the mercy of landlords.

Those who have been fortunate enough to own property at a very young age I guess will just never know what it feels like to live a nomadic life.

Being among this working class, I have constantly found myself thinking about the future and wondering if, like my parents, I will ever own a place of my own. Seeking to understand what is different now from the time they were young and home seeking too reveals that if anything, they earned far less than what we earn today. I realize now that it was about systems that worked; banks that lent, with low interest rates and gave you many years to pay back and most importantly – a government preoccupied with and committed to alleviating the housing problems faced by its citizens. That is what changed.

Merit Rumema wrote to Kubatana about the constitutional process questioning why so few women are actively involved in shaping the debate and discussion. Here’s her contribution:

Are women just political cheerleaders?

To say I was shocked at the level of women’s participation in the ongoing constitutional reform process is an understatement. I was appalled, devastated and disappointed. After attending three meetings in Mashonaland West Province, I was forced to come back, sit on my desk and ask myself, “What exactly is women’s participation?”

Is it the high turn out of women at these meetings, after all, there are more women in rural areas than men? Surely how can 300 women attend a meeting, just to ululate and clap hands as four, yes, 4 men, dominate a three-hour discussion. Surely how can that happen? Is women’s participation simply cheering and ululating?

As an observer from a women’s rights organisation, I travelled hundreds of kilometres to see for myself if women were being given an opportunity to speak and make their demands known. I sat through the 26 talking points and waited for women to speak. Talking point 11 discusses empowerment of previously disadvantaged groups. At this point I became really expectant, thinking women would consider how they have been disadvantaged and make new demands in the constitution such as free adult education.

Talking point 19 discusses independent commissions. Not one woman though to talk of a gender commission. This really got me very worried. What will the draft constitution comprise of? What is going on?

Back in my office after three similar meetings I started to ask myself what a people driven constitution really is and who the people are. >From my limited experience, the people are the political parties, and it has become impossible to separate the political party influence from individual thinking, aspirations and desires.

And as usual, everything that has political connotations attached to it becomes a playing zone for men, while women are silent spectators or cheerleaders, depending which party reigns in the area. Whether it is fear, intimidation, lack of knowledge and political will, in rural Zimbabwe, the women’s role is to be used as stepping stones in the dirty game called politics.

Why are we as a nation spending time and resources on a process whose outcome will hinge only on politics party needs?

Either Morgan Tsvangirai is short on brains by saying that he won’t contest the result of Zimbabwe’s 2011 poll, or he’s got a direct line to that famous World Cup winner predicting octopus from Germany. One of Kubatana’s SMS subscribers texted us this question recently: Did octopus predict tsvangirai victory in next polls?

‘MBIRA MBIRI’ (Two Mbiras)

A concert by HOPE MASIKE featuring CHIWONISO MARAIRE.

Outdoor performance  / full cash bar.

A truly rare experience of Zimbabwe’s most electrifying mbira songstresses in a mesmerizing fusion of traditional music, jazz and unexpected delights.

Supported by award winning visual artist, MASIMBA HWATI. CC $10.

FRI 17 SEPT, 2010 @ 7PM. ALLIANCE FRANCAISE, 328 Herbert Chitepo Avenue, Harare.

I don’t usually read a book and feel compelled to write about it.

But in the case of Valerie Tagwira’s splendid novel, ‘The Uncertainty of Hope’, I simply must.

The first time I heard about this novel was in 2006 when a visiting Danish friend doing her PhD research around Zimbabwean gendered discourse presented it to me during one of our lively discussions. This friend also had Tsitsi Dangarembga’s much-anticipated second book, ‘The Book of Not’ and in my excitement to lay hands on it, I chose the latter as my reading fodder instead.

And because I’d never really heard much about ‘The Uncertainty of Hope’ – or its author – I somehow never got round to reading it.

Over the last year however, I have managed to forge a good cyber friendship with Tagwira who always encourages me on to get my first novel completed – I’ve found her to be very gentle yet incisive in everything she says.

And it somehow gnawed away at me that I had never ventured into her own literary mind by reading her book. What, I wondered, did a practising medical doctor’s prose talk about?

And so last week I bought my copy of ‘The Uncertainty of Hope’ to find out.

What an amazing piece of literature!

If ‘Nervous Conditions’ was the narrative of womanhood and its myriad challenges for our newly independent Zimbabwe, then Tagiwra’s novel is the dominant gendered text for our nation’s 2000s – a time of social, political and economic crisis.

The novel’s protagonist, Onai, is a woman who suffers many dilemmas in her roles as wife, mother, breadwinner and ordinary Zimbabwean living through the harsh times of 2005 – where hyperinflation, queues for scarce commodities and the deathly effects of the misguided Murambatsvina operations colour the hopelessness of a once prosperous nation.

Onai, is also a victim of gross domestic violence and lives out an existence that is almost admirable in its absorption of so much pain and disappointment.

And what Tagwira does so well is to mirror her main character’s life against other women whose struggles are excruciating to various extents – Melody, the third year university student who is sleeping with a married man to raise her fees as well as get a taste of the life her family can’t afford; Emily, the compassionate doctor who’s torn, like many potential Diasporans, between obeying her conscience and staying home, and departing overseas to receive second-class treatment while earning enough to live comfortably; and Sheila, the sex worker who’s contracted HIV and worries about her young child’s future without a mother because long waiting lists bar her from getting access to life-prolonging ARVs.

This novel may be set during a particular era in our history – a time when we were all once meaningless millionaires – but it still speaks to the issues that affect Zimbabwe’s women five years later.

And Tagwira definitely understands the subject matter well. Many passages in this 363-page journey had my skin swelling up in goose bumps because yes, here is a woman who speaks about the things we are not often too ready to acknowledge, and therefore address.

Here is one such passage which takes place early in the novel as Onai encounters a wave of depression due to the fact that no one understands why she cannot leave her abusive husband:

She would not be able to bear the shame of being a divorced woman. How could she possibly face a world that despised divorcees; looked down on single mothers? Marital status was everything. It did not really matter how educated or otherwise skilled a woman was. A woman’s worth was relative to one man, her husband: westernised values about women surviving outside marriage held no authenticity mumusha (in the home). In her whole extended family, nobody had ever had a divorce. She would not let herself be the first.

This book is not a patchwork of fanciful writing. It is gritty, heart-wrenching, enlightening, warming – and all carefully controlled by a credible and clever storyline that allows for the forces of life to bring together, as well as separate, its various characters.

I wonder, sadly, why Tagwira has not received the same acclaim for this breathtaking tale as have the Dangarembgas,  Gappahs and Veras of our women’s writing world.

What a massive pity.

I only hope though that by your reading this short account of my experience, which I sadly can’t provide all the finer details of (lest I begin to ramble!), you too will pick up if this amazing novel if you have not already.

So many discussion points, innumerable advocacy issues, a whiff of the pungency of a decadent and decaying Zimbabwe – and all in well-written and engaging prose.

You simply must read this book and crown a true Zimbabwean heroine.

The Union for Sustainable Democracy suggests that even if Robert Mugabe is in good health, its about time he stepped down. 30 years in power seems like a good innings:

President Robert Mugabe must step down now

President Robert Mugabe yesterday refuted rumours about his supposed ill-health. Gossip is always a dubious source of information and for that reason it was quite refreshing to hear from the horse’s mouth. Messages of his assumed deteriorating health had Zimbabwe extremely worried!

Accordingly, the Union for Sustainable Democracy wishes President Robert Mugabe continued good health and is pleased to note – as he said in his interview with Reuters yesterday – that he is, in fact, of sound body. Life is precious and must be celebrated. We wish him as many more years as God will grant him.

What better time to take a break!

The simple and plain facts are that President Mugabe has been in power for 30 years; his leadership is deplorable and he is now 86 years old.

Whether or not he continues to rule the country should not depend on the results of tests for cancer. That is not the issue. The issue in Zimbabwe is dictatorship. It has been for over two decades. Surely that is cancerous enough!

As our USD President wrote in an article recently: “The moment has come for Zimbabwe to attain its political maturity, with power changing hands and life going along. After all it is not the state of the leader that matters, but the state of the nation”.

If President Mugabe wishes to dedicate the remaining years of his life to Zimbabwean politics he is more than welcome to do so but merely in an advisory capacity. Nothing more!

We strongly call on President Robert Mugabe to pave way for the ‘resurrection’ of the country by stepping down and handing over power to an abler person within ZANU PF as the country gears up for democratic elections.

- Fiona Mudzongo, Communications Manager