Robert Mugabe’s marriage to his former secretary has changed the face of Zimbabwe’s political hierarchy forever, reports Iden Wetherell
WHEN President Robert Mugabe returned to Harare last weekend from his brief honeymoon in Cape Town and an even briefer South African Development Community summit stopover in Maseru, it was immediately clear that things would never be quite the same again.
Instead of the solitary figure of the president proceeding down the red carpet on the airport tarmac to receive the greetings of his ministers and armed services chiefs, there was now a first family basking in the glow of the television lights. As Mugabe moved crisply down the line — a mandatory rollcall for those with any hope of advancement — – he was followed not only by his new wife, Grace, but also by his son, Robert Jr (6), who was offering his hand to the bowing courtiers. An older boy — unfamiliar to Zimbabwean viewers but almost certainly part of a yet-to-be- screened episode of this ongoing soap opera — then whisked young Robert off to a waiting car. This rather endearing picture was one of several images — scenes from a wedding if you like — that have captivated Zimbabweans over the past fortnight.
Starved of information other than sanitised puff pieces appearing in the official media, the chattering classes are devouring every new detail they can find concerning the president and his 31-year- old bride with unprecedented enthusiasm.
What a hagiographical press calls “the wedding of the century” on August 17 itself spawned a multitude of eye-witness accounts. Twelve thousand people were invited and nearly 40 000 turned up, placing a severe strain on amenities. Many invited guests were unable to find seats in the little church at Kutama Mission which had been occupied by well-wishers.
Mugabe was not amused, observers said, at being kept waiting in the hot sun outside the church by Catholic archbishop Patrick Chakaipa who conducted the service. His mood was not helped by the huge cheer for Nelson Mandela that went up when the South African president arrived.
The bride, former presidential secretary Grace Marufu, arrived in an elderly white Rolls Royce with the sticker “Eastlea Panelbeaters” clearly visible. Fortunately, a more recent model was available for the couple’s departure.
Following the service, diplomats and other VIPs went hungry in the huge bridal tent because much of the food prepared and frozen by State House chefs weeks before had gone off. Beef stew and rice was available to guests robust enough to face the mlee around the buffet tables while visiting heads of state on a raised dais tucked into sauteed prawn cocktails in peri-peri sauce — in honour of the best man, president Joachim Chissano of Mozambique.
Meanwhile, security officers had difficulty preventing gatecrashers from removing the cutlery.
While much of the wine served in the bridal tent was imported from the Cape, Zimbabwean wine producers rose to the occasion by manufacturing a little vintage of their own. It was called Bliss! Bottles are now collectors’ items.
Perhaps the most significant revelation on the president’s wedding day were the official photographs showing two bright and lively children — little Bona (8) and Robert (6), hitherto only referred to in media speculation. An older boy also appears to be part of the first family, clearly pre-dating Mugabe’s relationship with Marufu which started in the mid- 1980s. He is said to be a boarder at a smart private school south of Harare.
Given the secrecy surrounding the relationship it is hardly surprising that it should generate speculation. The honeymoon in Cape Town was only disclosed after the independent press was alerted by South African sources, and the official media still refuse to refer to it at all. The cost of a suite at the Cape Sun, not to mention the use of an Air Zimbabwe aircraft, have not yet been added to the estimated Z$6,5-million (nearly R3- million) spent on the wedding, at least a third of which will be charged to the taxpayer.
A similar media blackout has been ordered on the current wave of public service pay strikes — the biggest mass action in the country’s history — which greeted Mugabe on his return from the honeymoon. Asked to comment, the rather bewildered president said he had no idea what the public servants were striking about.
Observers suggest Mugabe is increasingly out of touch with events on the ground and has yet to accept the connection between the misdirection of state resources and the hardship that afflicts ordinary Zimbabweans.
Happy at least in his private life and cosseted by media that block out unpalatable truths, the president, it would seem, is not about to allow reality to intrude just yet.
Meanwhile many of the old guard lined up on the airport tarmac are probably reflecting upon an uncertain future. In a society with few democratic constraints upon the exercise of power, newcomers with direct access to the president are likely to enjoy unlimited opportunity to influence the course of events. That is bound to shake things up among Zimbabwe’s ossified hierarchy and means the new first family, whatever its inclination to secrecy, will continue to be the subject of legitimate curiosity.
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