When there was this huge business moguls shindig east of the country [wise men eh?] a few weeks ago about constructing a billion-dollar economy in the next two decades, news copy was awash with glowing editorialising about these men and women pitching their blueprint for a fabulously rich Zimbabwe. If the country’s political gladiators set aside their differences surely the USD1 billion economy was not a psychedelic reverie. With the right political will and economic genius from the private sector, Zimbabwe would be the biggest economy south of the Sahara.

The Vee Pee Mujuru was hailed for speaking with the level headedness that appeared to have surprised many: this is the commitment the country needs from its political leaders, the business heavies heaved. All the contradictions that have emerged in this country about promoting investment on one had and threatening – and indeed going ahead with – company takeovers were set aside or conveniently forgotten, after all what was to be gained by raising those concerns when there was an economy to be [re]built, money to be made, jobs created, detractors shamed, etc. Yet the very issues that were identified as inimical to the creation of a billion-dollar economy have been revisited on the country with doubled resolve. Which investor wants to put his money where cops gas mourners, throws teargas into churches, deny political parties and law abiding citizens right to assemble, bans free thought rallies etc.

We already know that some major potential investors are from countries where liberal democracy rules the day and companies are only too aware that choosing countries that do not respect human rights risk a boycott of their business. So how do we have it both ways such that we liberally and violently suppress prayers for peace and at the same time lobby international investors who come from backgrounds that respect human rights to pour in their multi-millions to create jobs and build that billion-dollar economy? Obviously these are questions that are not of concern to the authorities who unleash such brute force on “peace-loving Zimbabweans,” but you sure feel sorry for those heavy weights who pitched this billion-dollar economic utopia that while they obviously mean well, the very folks to whom they pitch these grand plans throw spanners and gonyets into the works. But for what exactly? Such a pity, living in the city is like living in the time of Frank Nitty.

Hand made crafts on sale at a Zimbabwean market.

Since attending a SAPES Seminar last year where Jonathan Moyo presented on the topic NGOs, Donors and Zimbabwe’s Transition, I’ve harboured a deep suspicion that he is in fact an evil genius the likes which have only previously been seen in comic books as the antagonist to some super naturally inclined being, and mere mortals, like myself, don’t stand a chance against his superior intellect. Today Professor John Makumbe confirmed my suspicions:

I think he is insane. He has the capacity and the intelligence to expose the reality of ZANU PF, but he goes beyond that and makes ZANU PF more evil than it actually is. Instead of accepting ZANU PF, you are revolted by it as a result of what Jonathan Moyo has done to it. He has transformed it into a monster, literally. He is an intelligent guy, a brilliant guy…but anything he does, if he’s doing something good he will do it so well, if he’s doing something bad he will [also] do it well! When he loves, I think he loves fully, and when he hates, he hates totally. That’s Jonathan.

I never forget when he became Minister of Information and Publicity and the journalists were screaming… and he said ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet!’ and for sure, he banged them left right and centre.

If he is not managed, Jonathan Moyo will very easily ensure ZANU PFs demise … complete demise.

Obviously, I’m intrigued. If you are reading this Mr. Moyo, won’t you grant me an interview to either confirm or deny my suspicions?

We need some people like Nuhu Ribadu in Zimbabwe. Our health care system is in tatters yet Mugabe gets the best medical treatment. His children are in the best schools. His house could house a thousand homeless. Here’s an interview from Monocle magazine . . . really worth a subscription.

Clean Start

Nigeria’s first anti-corruption chief Nuhu Ribadu was so effective he was sacked and fled the country, fearing for his life. Now he’s back running for president.

When Nuhu Ribadu launched his presidential campaign at the end of last year, he took to the stage clutching a broom. This was a symbol of his pledge to clean up Nigeria, Africa’s most populous country and the continent’s biggest oil and gas producer, where vast energy revenue have mostly been diverted into the pockets of the elite.

Ribadu says he is the country’s best chance for reform in an election due on 9 April (Since delayed to 16 April). Yet just one year ago, Ribadu felt unable to set a foot in Nigeria, let alone lead it. As the first head of Nigeria’s Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, set up in 2003, Ribadu had pursued corrupt politicians, civil servants and the country’s “419″ internet scammers.

But challengers to Nigeria’s “big men” are rarely tolerated for long. He was soon forced to take a year’s leave, suffered death threats and fled to the UK. He only returned home last year after the unexpected death of President Umaru Ya’Adua. He speaks to Monocle about his political ambitions.

Monocle: Nigeria is Africa’s giant, yet it is widely considered to fall short of its potential. What is holding it back?
Nuhu Ribadu: Corruption is at the root of everything. If the money that belongs to the state ends up in a few hands and is used for negative purposes, there will certainly be no money for development. Our presidential fleet has more than 10 aircraft, but the country doesn’t have a single good hospital.

M: How would you reform Nigeria?
NR: I would be an honest leader. This is a very top-down place, where corruption happens simply because leaders are doing it. Second, I will open up the oil industry and follow the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative. Third, I will clean up the justice system and police force and create laws to protect whistleblowers.

M: Nigeria’s ruling People’s Democratic Party has won every poll since army rule ended in 1999. Is there any chance for opposition candidates like you?
NR: The PDP has never won a proper election and this year we are taking steps to ensure that you cannot steal elections easily. This is a real chance for the opposition and the country.

M: How should the international community react if the poll is rigged? After the last polls in 2007, they criticised the widespread fraud but accepted the results.
NR: The time has come for the international community to insist that things are done correctly. If the outcome is not to their standards, they should not recognise the winner.

M: How will you run a clean campaign in a political system that relies on corrupt god-fathers and sponsors? Will you probe your own backers?
NR: I’m not a policeman anymore. I’m trying to lead. So I won’t say that, if you donate a car to me, I’ll start probing and checking and saying I must know where you get your money. But that also doesn’t mean that I’ll take big money from anyone who brings it.

M: Do you still fear for your life? What security measures do you take?
NR: It’s not my nature to travel in an armed convoy. I’m not 100 percent safe but neither is anyone who lives in a country like Nigeria. My situation is only a little worse than that of others.

Source: Monocle

Corn Husk Maidens on sale at the Avondale Flea Market.

What will you be wearing the day your lover leaves you?
I will be wearing my mothers disappointed smile.

- The Door by Warsan Shire

Having spent a couple of days looking at Zimbabwe through a camera lens I’ve noticed that there are more people living in poverty than I originally thought, or perhaps it’s that I’ve been forced to take more notice. It’s easy to be distracted while a woman, or a child, weaves through waiting cars begging for some change, or to walk hurriedly past as an old grime-covered woman sits at a street corner rattling a metal bowl with coins. I’ve seen it so often it doesn’t even register anymore.

When I look through the lens, I am not distracted; I see them and feel the guilt of privilege and not knowing the appropriate action to take. I want to help, I just don’t know how. Should I write a strongly worded letter to my MP, whose name or address I don’t know? Should I take it up with Harare City Council and demand that they remove the homeless and beggars from the streets? Where would they go? After Operation Murambatsvina where the people became the ‘tsvina’, is that a humane plan of action?

I’ve had wild fantasies about opening a soup kitchen or a shelter. It would be a modest sort of dormitory large enough to sleep every homeless person I’ve seen, and more that I haven’t. It would be a safe, warm place with food to fill every hungry stomach. It would be so many things to so many people. .. my fantasies have remained just that.

They tell you not to give homeless people money, they don’t tell you what the alternative is. Young and seemingly unoccupied men have asked to be paid for their picture. They need money to buy ZED to dull their existence. I suppose they have a right to demand money, don’t celebrities demand payment for their pictures too? And in a way it does seem as though I’m taking advantage of their situations, their poverty to add to my portfolio of pictures. And again, I am wracked with guilt, how can I accuse others of profiting from suffering when I am doing the very same thing? I am paid to do what I do.

Often when I am allowed to take the photo I see the pain in someone who is barely holding on, and trying to make it through just one more day. But I also see quiet resolve, that resilience that Zimbabweans are so famous for. And I feel shame for all the times I was undignified in moments of what is comparatively mild discomfort.