ZIMBABWE: African elderly are in the streets, have no money for food

HARARE, Zimbabwe / The Herald / Opinion / December 8, 2011

Africa: Continent at Crossroads?

By Darlington N. Mahuku and Bowden B.C. Mbanje

The innocent poor African elderly citizens are in the streets, they have no money to buy food; their children also of schoolgoing age are roaming the streets, their parents cannot afford to look after them.

This arguably is a result of the inexorably law of philosophy of plunder that Africa has and continues to be subjected to.

It is a fact of life that a hungry person is an angry one and is always trying to find ways to unleash their inner turmoil.

Sierra Leone, blood diamonds, child soldiers in Sudan, Somali pirates, civil wars, military coups, diseases etc.

These are arguably all Western-induced problems, with disastrous consequences on the development of the African continent.

This is why Africa should cry, but must not be a crybaby.

We are not saying Africa does not have its own internal problems, but it must very much be troubled by the poverty and alienation that it is witnessing.


The worst type of economic violence perpetrated on the African civilian is that of going to sleep on an empty stomach when Western-sponsored guns are blazing in the name of promoting human rights and good governance.

Does this not explain why the African youths have now abandoned education to find ways of filling their bellies with something at whatever cost, be it as a vigilante, a prostitute or a criminal?

This is because Africa and its citizens have continued to be tools in the hands of the neo-imperialists; they are pawns on the neo-imperialist chessboard.

Not only have much of the African space been possessed by the "capitalist god" who thrives on sapping their existence out of them, but they have also forgotten or thrown into the historical dustbin the notion of safeguarding national sovereignty, consolidating indigenisation and economic empowerment.

Professor Shivji noted that this has become a clash of ideologies and economic interests where some African leaders have failed to defend their independence or even stand for meaningful developments for Africa and its people.

He brilliantly observed that "Limits of territorial nationalism that Nyerere and Nkrumah had predicted and feared 'have, been unambiguously driven home by the neo-liberal onslaught beginning in the 1980s with the Washington Consensus . . . the three generations of conditionalities dictated by the unholy trio of IMF-World Bank-WTO backed by imperialist powers which is a direct and blatant attack on both the economic sovereignty of African states."

Muammar Gaddafi advocated a United States of Africa, has this already lost momentum?

Have African leaders' already fallen prey and are paying homage to the "capitalist, aid god or master?"

This is why we are arguing and proposing in this installation that Africa must not be betrayed on its own soil.

African leaders must therefore not be like the chameleon but must remain steadfast and be like the leopard that will never change its spots.

They must be defenders of the African space.

We opine that Africa's point of departure should be an indigenisation drive in which Africans will be the drivers of their own economic development by being masters of their own resources, by being beneficiaries of their own material resources.

Africa must embark on policies and programmes that are Afrocentric.

The bedrock of Africa's development should be embedded in how its resources will benefit the general African populace.

It is beyond any reasonable doubt dear reader that an economic empowerment that will benefit every African citizen will right the wrongs of the past in which the ordinary African masses were systematically, politically and economically marginalised.

Africa must therefore be given the space to participate more fully in the global economy.

This will in the long run reduce the poverty and suffering that the African general populace has been subjected to even during the colonial period.

It is indisputable that this is dependent on effective and viable political leadership and this entails the ruling elite's level of grasping economic issues and their political will to discharge such reforms.

Arguably no economy can grow if it excludes any segment of its people.

Any economic programme embarked on by our African leaders and their technocratic teams must not simply replace the "old-imperial elite" but must be democratic and must focus on the historically disadvantaged.

African leaders must therefore salvage Africa and its citizens from an exploitative global economic system, if they fail to do so then " the plight of Africa and its citizens will be like that of a being trying to swallow the sea to save himself from drowning" for the asymmetric relationship between northern and southern countries continues unabated.

Many African political and economic analysts contend that Africa's struggle should be for the benefit of its own people.

Its goals and objectives must be to quench its people's desires and aspirations for a decent life that is habitable, a life that they cherish, is peaceful, advantageous and will be the bedrock of their children's future.

The African general populace can therefore be totally liberated if they have a "stake" in their own economies.

It is a struggle not only against the neo-imperialist onslaught that is firmly embedded in neo-liberal economic principles but also a struggle against 'internal enemies' who want progress for themselves.

This is why Amilcar Cabral opined that " our people 's struggle is not only against anything that might be contrary to their 'economic' liberty and independence, but also against anything that might be contrary to their progress and happiness."

This is why we are submitting that Africa must not continue being rooted on the same spot.

It is high time they must take the initiative and take advantage of the winds of change (firmly fixed in the indigenisation and empowerment drive) blowing across the Southern African region.

African leaders must know that they cannot learn how to swim in the library but in the water, it is high time that they should walk the talk and implement economic policies that will benefit Africa and the world at large.

Pragmatic attention must begin to be given to both domestic and external factors that are the cause of Africa's continuing crises.

Africa must heed Steve Bantu Biko's call that "the basic tenet of African consciousness is that the black man must reject all value systems that seek to make him a foreigner in the country of his birth, you are either alive and proud or you are simply a potent weapon of the oppressor."

What is Africa to do if it is to defend national sovereignty and consolidate indigenisation and economic empowerment?

Nyerere in 1966 advised that students and lecturers of African universities must serve the needs of their own nations; they must serve Africa and link its intellectual life together.

Darlington N. Mahuku & Bowden B.C. Mbanje are lecturers in International Relations and Peace and Governance at Bindura University of Science Education.

Copyright © 2011 The Herald.

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ZIMBABWE: I am not old, and I am not ill, declares Mugabe

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CAPE TOWN, South Africa / The Independent On Line / Africa / May 20, 2011

Zimbabwe's 87-year-old president President Mugabe has scoffed

at speculation over his health as "misplaced" and said

he and his wife are fitness enthusiasts.  Photo: Reuters

Zimbabwe's 87-year-old president scoffed at speculation over his health as “misplaced” and said Thursday he and his wife are fitness enthusiasts.

President Robert Mugabe also dismissed recent reports that his wife Grace, his former secretary who is half his age, was also ill. He told state media they were both in “sound health.”

In excerpts of an interview published Thursday by the state Herald newspaper, he said he exercised regularly and recently only had an eye cataract operation in Singapore. His wife was undergoing physiotherapy in China for a dislocated hip which may have been made worse by exercise, he said.

South Africa's ruling party reported Tuesday that health problems facing Mugabe could jeopardize efforts to resolve the political crisis in Zimbabwe.

Mugabe is seen to be increasingly frail and at a recent regional summit he was transported around the convention center in an electric golf cart.

Visitors to his offices have also reported him suffering from fatigue.

Interviewed also by Southern Times, a regional weekly that is under the Herald stable and distributed by loyalists, Mugabe said his wife was in China studying for a degree in language and cultural studies. He said doctors there told her to stop fitness exercises.

“It is not an ailment. It is a physical dislocation,” he said in excerpts of the interview Thursday. The full version is expected to be published Friday.

He told the newspaper he did not use gym equipment but used common exercises he began in a colonial-era jail cell.

“I fall sick if I don't exercise. For now I am as good as my age says I must be,” he said, adding that he also takes a calcium supplement to help strengthen his bones.

“I am not old. I am 87 but my body says the counting doesn't end at 87, at least you must get to 100,” he told the newspaper.

Mugabe's office has denied he is suffering from prostate cancer treated in Singapore and suggested his five trips there since December were to meet with his wife and daughter Bona, 21, who is studying in Hong Kong.

Mugabe is scheduled to attend a regional summit Friday in the Namibian capital of Windhoek but discussions on Zimbabwe have been postponed, possibly to June 11 and 12 on the sidelines of an African economic summit in South Africa.

South African President Jacob Zuma, the region's chief mediator on Zimbabwe, is not expected in Windhoek. At the last regional summit in Zambia in March, Mugabe and his party received a stern rebuke over the slow pace of reforms in Zimbabwe and continuing political violence.

Mugabe, who has ruled since independence from Britain in 1980, has repeatedly said despite his age, he is fit to govern. He has called for elections this year, but regional mediators say that would be too early for free and fair polling.

Sapa-AP
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WINDHOEK, Namibia / The Southern Times / May 19, 2011

PRESIDENT ROBERT MUGABE IN HIS OWN WORDS:
 

Q: There has been speculation about your health in recent months.

A: The body says what it says it is. But I have had a cataract removed. I continue to have checks every six months. The doctors say that I am okay and some are surprised with my bone structure. They say they are the bones of someone who is 40. I suppose it's the exercise… I also take calcium everyday. At this age you must take calcium and I continue to exercise. I fall sick if I don't exercise. You can see it when I don't, you will say he is down today. For now (I feel) as good as my age says I must be. My age says I am not yet old at 87. My body is saying the counting doesn't end at 87 – at least you must get to 100. How old do you want to get? (answer: 120). Okay, let's see you then. Will wait and see you then.

Q: Your friend and comrade-in-arms, Cde Nujoma, celebrated his 82nd birthday recently…

A: Ah yes, Sam. I will take him a gift. 82, he is still my youth (laughing). Sam, yes. He's still okay. Sam, Sam. He doesn't get sick Sam, does he? Rarely. But he has done one thing I thought he wouldn't have time for – to read for a degree in Geology. And he has a son also who is a geologist. I will congratulate him. Those are our best friends.

© 2009 Southern Times Africa

ZIMBABWE: Marriage - Many cooks spoil the broth

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HARARE, Zimbabwe / The Herald / April 17, 2011

Marriage: Many cooks spoil the broth
By Chemist Mafuba

Title: "Ndiko Kusasana?"
Author: Oliver P Nyika
Publisher: Mambo Press,
1983
Pages: 133
ISBN: 0 869 222 651

OLIVER P Nyika is a Zimbabwean writer with the elderly in mind. His novel "Ndiko Kusasana?" opens with a wife who is refusing to stay in the village looking after her mother-in-law who is going blind.


The question of old age has become a topical issue in this southern African republic, which has put in place a pension scheme for workers in the formal employment sector.

Human rights activists have been canvassing for the setting up of a national insurance policy for all people more than 65 years of age. This would be a bonanza for the contribution that they have been making towards the development of Zimbabwe in all spheres of life.

Children have been looking after their parents when they enter their second "youth". Those who are able would continue doing so. The growth of child-headed families shows that the extended family concept is falling by the wayside.

The scourge of the HIV and Aids pandemic is taking off young people that parents have been looking upon as security in their old age.

Radio Zimbabwe has been telling listeners that Parliament would look into the question of old age when it resumes sitting soon. Old people are waiting to hear what the House will say about issues affecting them. They have to do with food, health, housing and recreational facilities.

Most of them are taking care of children whose parents left them.

The classic case is that of the grandmother from Mount Darwin who is sharing her monthly ration of food from HelpAge Zimbabwe with 12 grandchildren.

Artists are playing their part in bringing the woes of senior citizens who have nothing to call their own to the attention of members of the public.

The novel "Ndiko Kusasana?" sets up Oliver Nyika as arguably the king of suspense on the literary plateau. His book makes reading a refreshing experience. The artist emulates Patrick Chakaipa in Garandichauya, Emile Zola in Nana and Lev Tolstoy in Anna Karenina. The journalist doesn't pull his punches when he wants to make his point of view known.

He calls a spade a spade. The following discussion is a case in point:

"When I get back to Marimba, he will ask me where I slept last night," said Sekai to her aunt.

"I had not told him that I'd be coming to Zengeza. I haven't seen a jealousy man like that one.
"He's the limit in this world. Yet there's no tribe which can conquer VaRozvi in prostitution.

"His two sisters are plying their trade, without shame, in Kwekwe and in Bulawayo. Can you believe it?

"Ha! And you too!" remarked aunt Fadza. "But these days, there's this thing which they call. . . If Irene were here, she is the one who would have told you.

"She's the one who knows it. This one which says a man and woman are equal. One can't rule the other."

"You mean equal rights, Aunt?"

"You've stabbed the baboon in the mouth!" cried Fadza. "That's the thing I meant to say.

"You shouldn't be afraid that he'll ask you where you slept. You don't ask him how he spends his day."

"Aunt," said Sekai in a conspiratorial tone, "I've come to report him. He wants me to stay in the village. He says his mother is going blind."

"Don't make me laugh," said Fadza, laughing uproariously.

"I said don't make me laugh. Phiri tried that one on me at one (point).

"He had to run away from home when I told him that he would die if he wanted to play with me.

"You've problems with your Tawanda. He wants you to go to the village.

"This year, since you're afraid to divorce, you'll end up going there, hands down!"

"A miracle would have happened, Aunt. I'd rather die than to leave him squandering all the money with his women."

"I blame you for one thing, Sekai. What will you do if he rejects you? You're still where you are. What will you do, eh?"

I don't know what to do, Aunt. I can't look for work. He doesn't want me to."

"Ha ha! I can see that you're still sitting pretty. Wake up!

"When I decided that I would chuck Phiri out, I took a year plotting. I didn't want to have problems when he left me.

"I was pinching every cent that I could get from him. When I had amassed a fortune, I called the gardener from next door.

"I brought him into our bedroom on purpose. Phiri caught us when we were wrapped up in each other's arms.

"He tried to say this and that and the other. I set tsotsis from Chikwanha on him.

"They only threatened him with knives. You know that these foreigners fear maZezuru like hell!

"He fled leaving this house to me. I haven't heard about his whereabouts since then. Don't play when you want to do something."

"What about the child?" asked Sekai. "What did Phiri say about his daughter?"

"Ah! Sekai, what child are you talking about? Is she his? I found that child for myself.

"That man was a barren log. I had this child from the bus driver.

"He works for the company in Harare. He-e! That one loves me more than the wife that he has in his house."

"I don't know how I can fix that Rozvi, Aunt. I honestly don't know how I can fix him.

"You know your house better, Sekai. As your aunt, I can't tell you what to do. I can't tell you to leave your husband before you're ready.

"I'm telling you this so that you can keep watch. There must be something he has seen if he insists on you going to stay in the village.

"He wants to find joy when you're out of the way. What will you do if you find another woman settled in your house? What will you do, eh?"

"He is saying that his mother is no longer able to see properly."

"Don't talk rubbish. Are you going to give her eyes? Doesn't she have her husband? You never! He is chasing you away because you've made him rich.

"You've become too old for him. Don't be cheated. Takabva noko, kumhunga hakuna ipwa!"

"Aunt, some of the days he doesn't come home. . ."

It is a joy reading Oliver Nyika. He controls the flow of his words admirably. His short sentences are easy to understand. He doesn't write to impress his reader.

The artist says Tawanda Mugadzi gets more than $200 a day from his business. He sells food and soft drinks to workers in industrial sites. He makes a lot more when Dynamos is playing at Rufaro Stadium. He has a car. He lives with his wife Sekai and their two children, Sarudzai and Charles, in their beautiful house in Marimba Park.

Tawanda Mugadzi is an example to young people setting out to create jobs for themselves. Nothing is impossible provided they have the will to use their talents. The vendor has a serious handicap. He is unable to take decisive action when the situation demands. He wants to react instead of acting.

His wife Sekai is a scatterbrain. She relies on her eccentric aunt Fadza for advice. Fadza is intoxicated with her own self-importance when she can't even control her difficult daughter.

"Where have you been, Irene? You can't come home at this hour."

"But I told you that I'm going to watch soccer. It's difficult to find buses when there are many people."

"I'm going to stop giving you money to go and watch soccer. Schools are opening next week. You haven't been reading your books."

"How can I read when there is a shebeen in this house? The place sounds like a beerhall all the time?"

"Go into that room and greet Mai Sarudzai. She has come from Marimba. Now that it is you! Come back and cook."Irene shrugs her shoulders and shuffles off in a huff.

Mai Gatsi of Marondera is too honest to cheat Lillian, a mere schoolgirl.

Yes, she is cast in the same role with Fadza. The air of decency she displays is not deceptive enough.

Lillian brings sunshine into the story. Her parents brought her up well.

Her contender in the honours list is Masimba. The young man is honest to a fault.

He takes the children of his employers to watch films when he should be off-duty.

Oliver Nyika doesn't crumple action with detailed description.

The sound of music and dancing feet denote the presence of a shebeen.

The artist taxes the reader's imagination in some instances. Mugadzi can't want to be intimate with Lillian in one sentence.

The reader is left wondering where, when and how she became pregnant.

"Ndiko Kusasana?" shows why there should be a central translation agency for great works of art to reach all book lovers, starting in Zimbabwe.

Nyika can be a rich man from the love of his labour. His masterpiece should reach a wider audience. He won't bore his reader.

Meanwhile, the gossip-loving natives of Harare found something to wag about when Lillian came from Marondera to see Tawanda Mugadzi at his house in Marimba Park.


"Friend," said Sekai to her neighbour, "let me go and prepare food for my children.

"They are about to come back from school for lunch. I'll see what I'll do to cool my heart."

"If you fight," said Mai Chipunza, "don't say I told you, please. You'd hear that Chipunza has killed me."

"Ha ha! Why should I ask my husband about what happened?" said Sekai, laughing gaily.

"I know what I'll do. People like Mugadzi can't put on airs. I haven't grown old myself.

"It's up to him to see what he does with the children that I gave him. He isn't God to control my life. These days we've equal rights!" Out of that comes the title of the book - Joy.

"My mother is old," said Mugadzi to a confidante. "There is nobody who is cooking for her. She is no longer able to see properly.

"I told Sekai to stay with her. She refused. I had built a store for her in the village. It is standing idle. I had to do something."
Oliver Nyika was born in Buhera in 1961. He started his schooling in that district and moved to Gwetsanga School in Gokwe.He did Form Four at Empandeni Mission in 1978 and took a course in journalism and creative writing.

E-Mail: cmafuba@yahoo.comC

Copyright © 2011 The Herald

ZIMBABWE: After five decades away, going home to Zimbabwe

. LONG ISLAND, New York / Newsday / Business / September 24, 2009 By Michelle Faul, Associated Press Writer EMBAKWE MISSION, Zimbabwe - The imposing cross atop the brick church looms out of the bush like a beacon. The bells sing out with impatience, urging the faithful to hurry along, and one small bellringer is swept right off his feet. A peremptory roll from a handmade wooden drum topped with goat skin is followed by a call from a cow horn. The choir breaks into an a capella hymn. It's a far cry from the stately Gregorian chant of my youth, all in Latin, which I could recite from memory with no idea what it meant. Everyone stands as a dozen altar boys, one carrying a large cross, escort the Rev. Johannes Maseko and two seminarians up the aisle. It's the first time I've seen altar boys in robes of brilliant African fabric — orange and green. Those in the congregation tap their feet, clap their hands and sway to the music. My face is wet with tears. And I tear up again at the end, when the priest introduces me to the congregation as "baby Michelle" who was born here and is coming back after nearly five decades away. "You have returned to your home," he says. "We are your family. We are happy to have you with us." On closer inspection, many collars in the pews are frayed, jerseys darned, Sunday-best shoes worn down at the heels. And at the offertory, only coins are placed in the basket along with offerings of tea biscuits, a packet of sugar, some tea leaves. These are precious commodities: Someone is doing without to make this gift. Embakwe Mission once was an example of progress and success. But now it is suffering along with the rest of the country, and in particular the province of Matabeleland — land of the Ndebele people. Many people here are worn down by back-to-back wars and crises that keep this southwestern corner, on the brink of the Kalahari Desert, the poorest in a deprived nation. I find a place where no textbooks have been purchased in nearly a decade, where children come to school faint from hunger, where life savings have been wiped out. Embakwe Mission School..Oh.. The Memories. Courtesy: William Bezuidenhuit/Facebook EMBAKWE MISSION was founded in 1902 by the spirit medium Njemhlophe, who gave up throwing the bones after he converted to Christianity. He came at the behest of Catholic missionaries who soon followed, a Jesuit priest on horseback and three intrepid nuns fresh from England in an ox wagon loaded with provisions, including a hen, a cock and a cat. First they turned back because of a thunderstorm with forked lightning. On the second attempt, the wagon got bogged down in mud. So the nuns, from the Belgian-based Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, trudged through the sludge to their new home, a loaf of bread under one arm and a bottle of altar wine tucked under the other. I think of them as I follow a rusting sign off the road onto a dirt track. I slow to cross the dry bed of Embakwe River. Some women are digging holes in the loose sand to collect water. A barefoot child waves hello. "Salibonani," I yell back out the window. A grey lourie responds with its fish-wifely "go-away" squawk — hunters hate it because it warns their prey. The familiar song of cicadas hums through the bushes and the blue, blue sky is painted with clouds drifting lazily and so low you want to reach out and fluff them up. "Embakwe Mission," announces the same old carved stone, once whitewashed but now weathered grey. The mission's signature red-brick buildings are also weathered, including a church, clinic, a primary day school, a high school, hostels for boarders, a pigsty, playing fields. Outside the mission, the air has a homely whiff of woodfire and cattle dung. The bush is thinned out because trees are used for fuel; the grass appears shaved from overgrazing. There's no running water, no electricity, no telephones. And we're out of reach of cellular phone service unless you climb a certain tree on the mission. Villages are also strangely bereft of young people. James Mapegani Macebo Ncube, 78, taught at Embakwe for 45 years. His elder son went to neighboring South Africa and has not been heard from in 15 years. But his younger son graduated from Embakwe two years ago, got a job working with computers in South Africa and hopes to visit at Christmas. "Because of this government, I cannot enjoy my children around me. They could not tolerate staying, like all the young people: There are no jobs, nothing for them." Macebo is caring for a 13-year-old orphan, the son of his wife's sister, who died in 2004 followed by her husband in 2006, presumably of AIDS. Like all aging Zimbabweans, his pension was wiped out by dizzying inflation as the government recklessly printed money to mask the collapse of the economy. Zimbabwe's dollar was on a par with the U.S. dollar at independence in 1980. The goverment abandoned the local currency in January, shortly after printing a 100 trillion-dollar note. In their old age, Macebo and his wife, Lilliam, are forced to survive off the land, much as the missionaries found their great-grandparents. They have two cows, a handful of goats and some chickens, and they grow corn, sorghum, millet and a variety of other crops. They live in a brick home topped by a grass thatched roof. If they need the toilet at night, they walk outside to a small brick building. Bedtime is when it gets dark, because there is no money to buy paraffin for the lamp gathering dust in a corner. If there's a medical emergency, Macebo is lucky. He has two donkeys and a scotch cart that could carry them to the mission clinic. ___ The clinic is surprisingly well-equipped and squeaky clean. On this day it's filled with the cries of children getting vaccinated. Nurse Barbara Moyo says the drugs come from a European doctor who works at a nearby mission and gets donations from Germany. When AIDS antiretrovirals are handed out, scores of people line up, winding their way around the clinic. Moyo says as much as 75 percent of the working population is infected with AIDS — those aged from about 20 to 49. That astonishing figure — five times the national average — she attributes to migration for work, including prostitution, and the booming cross-border trade with nearby Botswana. Men get infected there and bring the disease home to their wives. The mission's schools also reflect crisis. Halfway through the term, the primary school has only one box of chalk and no money. Frederick Chikwane, a Cuban-trained chemist who is headmaster of the high school, says parents would not agree to pay more than $250 for a 13-week term for a boarder. His student body has shrunk from about 700 to 420 this year, with some parents putting students into cheaper day schools, some sending their children to South Africa. Less than two-thirds of school fees have been paid. In June, Chikwane was forced to send home some students whose parents had not paid. "Some of our students are dropping their schooling altogether, going to Botswana or South Africa to do manual labor, or just turning delinquent," Chikwane says. "It's a sad story." Worse off is the primary school. Deputy headmaster Mongameli Phakathi says he cannot even look at the account books without getting a headache. The government announced this year that children in rural areas must not pay school fees. Children come to school too weak to play sports. Some come only for the mid-morning bowl of high-nutrition porridge provided by a Catholic charity. "For some, that's the only food they are getting," Phakathi says. Still, Chikwane says, things are better since the government abandoned the Zimbabwe dollar. "Costs rose so much, there was no money to buy food and, even if you had the money, you couldn't get it from the bank," Chikwane says. "We had to ask the parents to pay school fees in groceries." Most people in rural areas, with no access to any kind of currency, have turned to primitive barter. A friend told me about an elderly woman who offered a bus driver at Lion's Den her live, trussed-up chicken for a four-hour ride. The driver agreed, but passengers argued the woman was owed change — at least three eggs. ___ In the dining hall at Embakwe, boys and young men gather for dinner. They're hungry and there's some pushing. Each holds an enamel plate onto which one server ladles sadza, the stiff maize meal porridge that is a staple, another some grey, watery cabbage. Sister Mary Anthony Madanga, who runs the kitchen, complains the boys are not getting a balanced diet: They have had greens only three times in six months, there is no fruit, meat is served three times a week if a cow is slaughtered. Most days it's a soup of whatever vegetables are available, often the cabbage, which "the boys hate." I remember Embakwe as a land of plenty, providing for more than 1,000 students, missionaries and lay teachers. The mission became near self-sufficient after 1953, when the biggest private dam in the country was built. Canals channeled water to a vegetable farm and orchard. Wildlife was plentiful and we ate so much venison I can't stomach it today. But now most mission fields are overgrown by knee-high grass. There is bush where I remember hundreds of orange, nectarine and banana trees. Maseko, the youthful mission director at 29 years old, says he hired an experienced farm manager in 2006. But the crops failed, tomatoes rotted in the fields, a lot of money was lost. There apparently was corruption, greed and mismanagement — the same evils that have helped destroy the entire country. The headmaster was fired for theft and took off with one of the two tractors. Maseko turned to the sole remaining white farmer in the area, who now uses part of the mission land and provides the school with some vegetables. The fields are constantly pillaged. A few days before my visit, thieves were caught with more than 200 pounds of tomatoes. Much of the countryside looks like the road from Bulawayo to Embakwe — mile after mile of destroyed farm fences and land left fallow. Land was once the bedrock of my country. Some 5,000 white farmers owned two-thirds of Zimbabwe's richest land at independence, employed the largest workforce and produced enough food to feed the country and export. Zimbabwean beef was famous, its steak considered on a par with Argentina's. But millions of black peasant farmers were crowded onto overworked marginal land. So Britain, the former colonial ruler, funded a land resettlement program at independence and made annual payments for President Robert Mugabe's government to buy white farms. It only stopped in 1997 when it became clear that the land was being given to Mugabe's generals and cronies. After Mugabe lost a referendum to entrench his powers, he ordered violent seizures of commercial farms in 2000, accusing the farmers of ordering their black workers to vote against him. Banks suffered since many of their assets were in farm mortgages. The land itself became worthless. ___ In the years after 1980, thousands of schools, clinics, dams and roads were built. But not in Matabeleland, where the minority Ndebele people had voted overwhelmingly for Joshua Nkomo's party, not the winning party dominated by Mugabe's Shona people. A handful of Nkomo's guerrillas attacked white farmers and killed some white tourists near the Victoria Falls. This led to a full-fledged battle in Bulawayo, the Matabeleland capital a two-hour drive from Embakwe. Mugabe got North Korean instructors to "train" the Fifth Brigade, which swept through the province like its nickname "Gukurahundi" — Shona for "the first rains that wash away the chaff." Under Perence Shiri, now commander of the Zimbabwe Air Force, those troops attacked and killed up to 40,000 civilians in a five-year purge that some human rights activists liken to genocide. Some were buried in mass graves. Others were thrown down mine shafts. Limestone was thrown on some bodies to disintegrate the bones. Entire sections of Matabeleland were blocked from access to medicine and food during a drought. With some 3 million people facing death by starvation, a defeated Nkomo signed a unity accord with Mugabe in 1987, effectively making Zimbabwe a one-party state. Many wonder if the same fate does not await the latest unity government — formed in February between Mugabe and opposition leader Morgan Tsvangirai, the man many believe won elections last year. People still talk about "Gukurahundi" in whispers. Some watched siblings, sons and daughters tortured and gunned down. Others were forced to dig their own graves before being shot or bayonetted. Entire families were locked into their thatch-roofed huts and burned to death. Mugabe — who once taught at a mission neighboring Embakwe in the 1940s — denied anything was happening. Local and international human rights groups say Mugabe and Shiri should be tried at the International Court of Justice for crimes against humanity. Some say fear of prosecution is the main reason Mugabe and his cabal cling to power. ___ At a village near Embakwe, Mtabisi George Ndlovu wonders why he ever bothered to fight for independence. "Look at us," he orders, pointing to a wife with one baby in her lap and two others hiding in her skirts while other children chase fowls around the dusty compound. In her pantry are a couple handfuls of dried beans and a cupful of cornmeal — not enough to feed the family. How many children do you have? I ask Ndlovu. For an answer, he turns to his wife, who says there are seven. Ndlovu gets a war veteran's pension of $40 a month, but it costs him nearly $10 to travel to Bulawayo for the money. "We eat poorly, once a day," he complains. "When we were in the struggle, they promised us land, good houses with water and electricity, free education for our children, free health care. What did I get? Nothing." As I drive away from the mission, I'm filled with a sense of trepidation. I stop at the untended cemetery where thigh-high grass prevents me finding the grave of that first Catholic convert, Njemhlophe. In a cleared patch, mounds of three new graves are a reminder of the high death rate in a country devastated by AIDS and the diseases of poverty. These days the graveyard is so full that people must be laid to rest elsewhere. [rc] Copyright 2009 The Associated Press. Copyright © 2009 Newsday.

ZIMBABWE: You can't buy a loaf of bread for Z$50,000

. HARARE / Reuters / November 3, 2008 Zimbabwe will soon introduce higher denomination banknotes, of up to one million Zimbabwean dollars, in a bid to ease the effects of hyperinflation, the country's central bank said on Monday. The southern African country lopped 10 zeros off the currency on August 1, but it continues to lose value as inflation surges. The government put inflation at 230 million percent for July, the world's highest, although the Washington-based Cato Institute foundation estimates it now at 10,2 quadrillion percent. Currently, the highest denomination banknote is Z$50 000, not enough to buy a loaf of bread, and the central bank plans to introduce Z$100 000, Z$500 000 and Z$1-million (about $8) banknotes in a bid to help consumers battling to make simple purchases. © 2008 Independent Online

ZIMBABWE: Trust Gives $150 Trillion to Helpage

Older people above 60 currently represent over 700,000 Zimbabweans, according to HelpAge. The majority of them continue to work beyond retirement age, with 78% of men and 66% of women still economically active. Photo: Karen Peachey/HelpAge HARARE (The Herald), July 21, 2008: THE Presidential Republic Cup Trust last week donated $150 trillion to HelpAge Zimbabwe to help improve the living conditions of elderly people in the country. Mrs Jocylene Chiwenga, wife of Defence Forces Commander General Constantine Chiwenga, handed over the cheque to HelpAge Zimbabwe chairman Mr Edwin Murwira at the HelpAge headquarters in Harare. Mrs Chiwenga expressed concern on the neglect of the elderly saying it was everyone's duty to look after the aged as they took care of today's adults when we were still young. "We all should help the aged for they are the ones who raised us to be who we are today," she said. Mr Murwira said every dollar of the donation would be committed to helping the elderly. "This donation will go a long way in helping the aged we are looking after and every cent of this money will benefit this very important generation," he said. The donation was part of the funds raised during the Presidential Republic Cup, a horse race staged at Borrowdale Race Course last Sunday. Mrs Chiwenga contributed towards the trust. HelpAge Zimbabwe has since 1989 been working with and for old persons throughout the country by identifying their needs and supporting community-based initiatives through various fundraising initiatives. Source: http://www.herald.co.zw

ZIMBABWE: Social facility for the elderly unveiled

BULAWAYO (Zimbabwe Guardian),
June 24, 2008:

By Dyke Sithole

THE Bulawayo City Council has unveiled a social facility for the elderly in the city which will cushion all pensioners over the age of 80 from the current harsh economic conditions in the country.

Photo Courtesy: GAA

This noble facility among other benefits will see the elderly paying 50 percent less in supplementary charges and tax rebates on specified services.

The City Fathers have also gone an extra mile by reserving a paying point for the pensioners in all its service halls.

The scheme is being implemented by both the city’s Treasury Department and the Housing and Community Service Department.

Under the scheme social workers from the Community Services Department screens beneficiaries of the facility.

“The section from the city’s Treasury Department has created billing codes for the pensioners and this ensures efficiency. Since the scheme started, it has received overwhelming response with more than 300 pensioners having benefited,” said spokesperson for the council.

The pensioners rebate scheme is the most outstanding scheme, although it is not the only case where the City Fathers have prioritized the elderly.

In August last year, the council resolved to charge sewerage charges below normal for old people’s homes in the city. The decision was made by the council when one of the old People’s homes pleaded with the local authority to pay low rates.

2005-2008 The Zimbabwe Guardian

ZIMBABWE: Elderly Make Up 10 Per cent of Country's 12 Million Population

HARARE, Zimbabwe (IRIN), July 2, 2007:

Zimbabwe's seven-year economic crisis has made the elderly, who make up 10 percent of the country's 12 million people, even more vulnerable.

"The situation for older persons, who, by definition, are people over the age of 60, and because of their mental, physical and poor financial status are considered vulnerable, is sad, owing to the hyperinflationary environment that is affecting the country," Priscilla Gavi, director of Help Age, a national voluntary organisation promoting the welfare of the aged, told IRIN.

The decline is evident in institutions for the elderly, which are mainly funded by independent donors, but whose contributions were "too little and a token considering what is required on the ground", Gavi said.

Most homes have been hit hard by an annual inflation rate of around 4,000 percent, and unable to cope with the steep increase in the cost of essential services such as health, water and electricity.

Daily living in Zimbabwe has been characterised by widespread shortages of basic commodities and foreign currency. Since the start of the crisis in 2000, donors have either scaled down operations, citing a harsh operating environment, or pulled out.

Unaffordable cost of living: But even when donors were willing to help, Gavi said they tended to insist on income-generating projects for the old, a requirement that "took a lot of convincing" because the process of drawing up proposals was long and took time.

Irene Gwindi, a who has worked since the late 1990s as caregiver at Chinyaradzo, an old-age home in the populous southwestern suburb of Highfields in Harare, the capital, recalled the days when looking after the elderly was easy because funds and donations were never a problem.

"The speed at which things have deteriorated is unbelievable," Gwindi told IRIN. "In the winter season, like now, our inmates would be guaranteed of at least five blankets each from donors, the business community and other well-wishers, but now we have to struggle to keep the old people warm because donations are not forthcoming."

Chinyaradzo's occupants include people abandoned by their families or thrown out of their houses after ownership wrangles; others were picked up off the streets and there are even some of foreign origin, with no known relatives to look after them in Zimbabwe.

Although the Harare municipality subsidises the city's old age homes by meeting a percentage of their water and power expenses, the institutions are struggling to foot their bills.

"Old people's homes use a lot of water because there is much washing that takes place, while the consumption of electricity is high, and on many occasions the authorities have threatened to cut us off due to non-payment," said Gwindi.

Elderly often face higher risks : Water cuts are frequent, exposing the occupants to greater risk of communicable diseases, while power cuts often force them to spend cold nights in the dark. A severe shortage of foreign currency means service providers cannot maintain or replace the ageing water purification and distribution equipment, or import enough power from neighbouring countries.

In the old days there used to be enough food to guarantee a balanced diet, now the old people at the home where Gwindi works survive on plain tea and two slices of bread in the morning, and thick maizemeal porridge and beans or dried kapenta [dried fish] for lunch and supper.

"That means they easily fall sick because of poor nutritional standards; worse still, we have to struggle to meet their medical expenses, considering the high cost of ensuring treatment for them, that is if there is any help available at health centres," said Gwindi.

Like all other sectors, the health-delivery system has been affected by the plummeting economy: drugs are in short supply in hospitals and clinics, thousands of doctors and nurses have fled to other countries in search of better working conditions, strikes are frequent, medication costs and consultation fees have shot through the roof.

In the winter season, like now, our inmates would be guaranteed of at least five blankets each from donors, the business community and other well-wishers, but now we have to struggle to keep the old people warm because donations are not forthcoming

Bumhudzo Old People's Home, in the dormitory city of Chitungwiza, about 35km south of Harare, is in a state of disrepair: the roof leaks when it rains and the broken windows cannot keep the cold winds out.

The institution's 40 residents sleep on dilapidated beds and despite repeated calls for well-wishers to replace the old furniture, no help has been forthcoming for the last three years, said a caregiver, who added that their work had been made more strenuous by the flight of assistants to other countries in search of better jobs.

"Our wages are poor because of the poor financial position of the institution and, as a result, caregivers are shunning the home, choosing instead to become cross-border traders or migrate to other countries, where they get better salaries as housemaids or nurse aides," she said.

It has also been difficult to obtain wheelchairs for residents who needed them, and there were often no ambulances available to ferry the sick to hospital, even in emergency cases, which forced the home to hire expensive private transporters.

Life outside the homes: Life can be even harder for the elderly living outside of institutions. "Older persons' institutions are limited and only cater for a fraction of this needy section of the population. Many of them are either living by themselves or are looked after by relatives, and their plight is more disturbing in cases where, because of the AIDS pandemic, they are forced to provide care for children left behind by their parents," Gavi said.

Most of those who lived outside institutions would have been informally employed and therefore had no pensions to fall back on, she said, but even those who had retired from formal employment barely scraped by because their pensions were too small.

Old and hapless. Photo: IRIN

Maharagwe Munongwa, 70, a retired driver in Harare, received only Z$10,000 (about US0.83 at the parallel market exchange rate of about Z$120,000 to US$1) as a monthly pension. He never collects it because it would cost him more than that to fetch it from the payout point. Last year his only son, who is divorced, moved to Canada to take up menial jobs, leaving him to look after three schoolgoing grandchildren, the eldest of which is 14 years old.

Zimbabwe closed all legal money transfer agencies last year, so even though his son regularly remits money to the family via an informal cash-transfer service, Munongwa is often at the mercy of the agent who runs it.

"Sometimes we go for two months without receiving anything from that young man [the agent] who misinforms my son that he is giving us the money. I am diabetic, and when the money is delayed I suffer a lot, while my grandchildren sometimes go hungry," he told IRIN.

"While I appreciate that things are tough in this country, and my son is toiling to make ends meet abroad, I now burden my children because I frequently fall ill, while, given my advanced age, I cannot give them enough attention."

Little state support: The government's social welfare fund provides little financial support to the elderly, disbursing a paltry US$2 annually to each identified beneficiary.


Food is unaffordable for most Zimbabweans: For years Help Age had advocated the enactment of legislation that would link pensions to the cost of living, Gavi said. The bill has remained at draft stage, even though President Robert Mugabe had pledged full support, but there were fears that it could take a long time to be passed because the government was now broke.

At Dandaro, a retirement home for the wealthy elderly in the northern suburb of Borrowdale, Harare, the picture is very different.

Tim Staunton, 73, a former commercial white farmer, lives a comfortable life, thanks to money he had saved before his farm was taken over by the government during the compulsory acquisition of farmland that began in 2000, in which around 4,000 farmers were displaced to make way for land-hungry black settlers.

The wheelchair-bound Staunton owns a garden flat and is looked after by an experienced nurse, while his children, now living in South Africa and Australia, send him enough money to ensure his welfare; they visit him at least twice a year and take him on holiday.

"Things could have been better had it not been for the economic crisis in this country," he told IRIN, "but I would not say I am suffering that much."

Copyright © IRIN 2007

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