I attended (as an observer since I am not a member) the Harare City Library AGM on Monday, 30 January 2012. Nice place, but in an interesting way, quite bizarre!

Founded in 1902 as the Queen Victoria Library, in 1982 it became the Harare City Library. Now in 2012, it has 3658 adult and 518 children members, about 25 000 books (I have under 4000) and it only runs because the Zimbabwe Open University rents rooms. ZOU provides about two thirds of it’s operating budget. Are there only 4000 people out of Harare’s one million who can read, or are they all, like me, in possession of sizeable personal libraries? Or do they simply not know the library exists?

It is owned by a trust. Two trustees are the Harare Mayor, and the Master of the High Court. It is run by a Management Committee. Six members are elected
(committee members, elected by the library members). Three Members are appointed by the Minister (Youth, Sport and Education). One by the City of Harare. Charles Nyatsuro – who was living and working as a gardener, and was the MDC Harare Central chairman, when I was elected to City Council. He is now elected from Ward 2, was appointed, but has never attended a Library meeting. And I know he can read because he borrowed, and never returned, several books of mine. About twenty five people came to the meeting. The outgoing chairman was Petina Gappah – the novelist.

When they took over, there was no outgoing committee. No accounts. Big debts. There had not been a grant from the City of Harare since 2006 (but plenty of bills). So they put together a strategic plan, and got accounts done (the Committee Treasurer was an accountant). Sixty nine percent of their revenue is from ZOU. Thirty one percent from membership fees. Of their bills, 81 percent went to salaries, and they actually have no librarian (as in qualified) on staff. The man in charge, ‘acting’ is not qualified! Of other bills, they owe $6000 in telephone bills, $13 000 to ZESA, and over $30 000 to the City. Annual income projected to be about $75 000 (of which about 80 percent will be staff running costs!)

They, traditionally run a lending library. To outlying suburb libraries, which are all owned by the City of Harare, not the trust that owns the Central Library. But some of them are shut, the rest are in trouble, and there is no facility (vehicle, fuel, qualifications.) to run the lending side anymore. The Hatfield Library is a building. And the Junior Chamber International (JCI) is attempting to get it up and running again (once they get the City to plough through the bureaucracy).

But it all begs the questions – Why do people read? Why do people join the library? Why do people use the library? What kind of people use the library, and for what?

On the other hand, do people no longer read? And I KNOW that is not true. Is everything we do now on computer? Through the internet? Again, I KNOW that is not true. Almost no Zimbabweans (relatively speaking) have access to computers or the internet. What are the figures, if you have those you are in the top one percent of the world’s population, a very small elite.

And who are these people that keep this very valuable resource on it’s feet. After being run down and neglected by previous regimes (no accounts, no librarian!) they have, at the very least, put it on it’s feet. While it cannot function in many ways, at the very least we (they!) now know what is wrong and can plan what to do.

These questions need to be answered. Until we know the answers to these questions, it is difficult to rehabilitate the place. Rehabilitate it for what? To what? A bit like the pool (MacDonald Park, see a previous blog). What am I doing this for? Now that I have done it (or been involved in the doing of it), I am very pleased it has happened. The people use it. Want it. But there was every danger that I was working towards nothing.

Similar thoughts with the library (although I am not involved). What are they doing it for? Are books a thing of the past? Do people just want internet access, and can it provide as much, the same, as easy, as good. information, learning, education, advancement as books can? Do they need to provide both?

The big question – what do Zimbabwean’s want? And how do we make them stand up and tell us what they want? Come on Zimbabwe. Find your voice. Not as individuals (even if that is the start point) but as a nation. Tell us how to get ahead. Tell us how to plan. Tell us what to plan for.

At 4pm I got this SMS from a co-worker. How could I refuse?

Combi from belvedere delayd by police n its drizzling in town. May I report back t work tmoro.

I went to a breakfast meeting on recycling a couple of weeks ago. Met a woman there, up from Bulawayo (working for the ZNCC I think).

She was amazed at the cosmetics freely on sale in the shops here in Harare. Hair straighteners, skin lighteners – those imported female beauty products. All banned under Zimbabwean law. All dangerous.

She remarked, if you tried to sell those openly in Bulawayo, the police would have you in jail in half an hour. But here in Harare! All sitting there, on the shelves. From opening to closing time.

So, got to wonder. Do the ZRP in Harare not know what Zimbabwe’s laws are? Or do the police in Harare (as opposed to the ZRP in Bulawayo) not actually enforce the laws of Zimbabwe? They are too busy enforcing the laws of the power. They do not handle legitimacy, they only deal with power. They do not care about health and safety in Harare, and legal implications, they only enforce the (outgoing) power of the city (which is no longer a power in Bulawayo).

Walking through town the other day, a friend and I thought twice before taking the road that goes in back of State House. You know the one – up past the Harare Sports Club and Royal Harare Golf Club on the one side, and past the camouflage-wearing, gun-toting, State House-guarding soldiers on the other. We didn’t have ID on us, and the stories of people getting harassed on that road by officious guards are countless.

But we took a deep breath, and in the interest of claiming our freedom and refusing to bow to intimidation or self-censorship we carried on.

We were nearly out of the woods when a soldier – yes complete with camouflage, helmet,  and bayonet readied gun, called to us across the road -

Armed soldier in camouflage: Hello.
Me: Hello.
Armed soldier in camouflage: How is the morning?
Me: Good thanks, how’s yours?
Armed soldier in camouflage: How is the day?
Me: Good thanks, how’s yours?
Armed soldier in camouflage: Can I have your number?
Me: [Silence]
Armed soldier in camouflage: I need to phone you.
Me: [Turns to face him with a puzzled expression]
Armed soldier in camouflage: Bahahahaha [Packs out laughing like he’s just told the best joke ever.]

Harassment, yes. But not quite the kind of harassment I’d been worried about.

No, that’s not iced tea. Or even really weak coffee. After 5 days, the water finally came back on at our office block. And this is what it looked like. Yikez.

On a walk on one of Harare’s upmarket streets in Borrowdale Wednesday, I turned a corner and was struck by this perfect square patch of tall, lush mealies planted in the verge outside a house. It reminded me of an urban gardener in London, who plants tiny gardens in sidewalks.