Businessman Strive Masiyiwa was all set to introduce Zimbabwe’s first cellphone network when the government stepped in. Jan Raath reports from Harare
STRIVE MASIYIWA says it is fair comment that his conversion to born-again Christianity coincided roughly with an offer he could not refuse from two political heavyweights in Zimbabwe’s ruling Zanu party.
A Cabinet minister and a member of the party politburo, they fetched him in a Mercedes from his office in August 1994 and took him to their suite in the Avenues, central Harare. They wrote US$400 000 on a scrap of paper and said he would have to pay them that if he wanted to set up Zimbabwe’s first cellular telephone network.
They also wanted a large chunk of the equity of his company, Econet, for which they did not propose to pay anything. Agree, and “we can have this sorted out inside a week”, they said.
If he opposed them, he was told, he would never be allowed to operate. He was given a detailed account of how they would block him, even if he had the full might of the law behind him. “You don’t know how much power we’ve got,” they said. “If you want to run a business in this country, you have to talk to us.”
Masiyiwa did refuse. “I remember leaving and thinking, `wow’,” he said this week. “I was overwhelmed. And everything that has happened since then, they said would happen.”
There is not a scrap of evidence for any of this. There were no witnesses, and you have only his word for it. He would be sued for his last cent if he named the pair.
But this report is the only clue to understanding the breathtaking web of deceit and the formidable barrage of resistance laid in his way by President Robert Mugabe’s government to prevent him from switching on his cellphone network.
One is also inclined to believe him. Educated at an exclusive public school outside Edinburgh and degreed in electrical engineering at the University of Wales in Cardiff, he is the opposite of the other figures in Zimbabwe’s “indigenous” business circles – like white-hating tycoon Roger Boka, or Phillip Chiyangwa, self-styled “chief strategist” of the radical Affirmative Action Group, who threatens “extreme measures” against the press.
In a continent where business is dirtier and rougher than anywhere else, Masiyiwa (36) manages to radiate fresh, good cheer and enthusiasm that he doesn’t owe to his religion.
He is articulate, approachable, talks a lot, but listens. His staff likes him. “He’s the first black boss I have had,” said one of the five whites in his 50- strong company. “He’s demanding, but fair. It’s been a pleasure.”
The most recent attempted deterrent to his enterprise was at 4pm on April 4 when CID detectives turned up at his offices with an order for his arrest, falsely claiming he had illegally offered public shares in his company. Faced with a wall of lawyers, they retreated.
Masiyiwa and Econet have become the inspiration for the wave of angry indignation against Mugabe’s government and the disdain it shows for the rule of law and transparency as it dispenses huge business contracts to members of the coterie of politicians and businessmen that have become known as “the Mugabe royal family”.
An indication of the deep support Econet has is its access to information. “This is not a very open government,” Masiyiwa said. “You don’t get minutes of meetings. But I don’t have to do a thing. It all comes to us. It comes from messengers, it comes from every possible source. If there is a meeting, or any development, we are told about it.”
There is no suggestion that the government has been touched by the embarrassing disclosures of political manipulation of contracts last year, with the Zim $1- billion new Harare airport terminal and the Zim $6-billion sale of the country’s largest power station to a Malaysian company.
A month ago it awarded a licence to operate a cellphone network to Telecell, a Virgin Islands-registered company with a local directorship peppered with relatives of senior politicians, including Mugabe’s nephew, Leo. It appears to have failed every set of criteria required by the tender board, but got it on the strength of a directive from the president’s office.
Econet’s bid failed. The company has been ready since February last year to provide a service to 20 000 subscribers. “It’s up and running, it’s fully operational. But we cannot offer a service to the public because I will be arrested if we do,” Masiyiwa said.
He began his enterprise in 1992 and immediately ran into resistance. In December 1994, he won the celebrated high court ruling that described the state- controlled Posts and Telecommunications Corporation telephone system as being so bad that it violated the constitutional right to freedom of expression.
There have been four other high court battles and another is on the roll. The ninth high court challenge is also pending. Legal expenses have not damaged him because he keeps winning and being awarded costs.
But still no operating licence. Instead, the government gave one to its corporation with a severely overloaded subscriber capacity of 5 000. Now Telecell has one too, and says it may be ready to run in six months.
Running a highly technical company with Zim $100-million worth of infrastructure under an official bar on earning income would have finished off others long ago. He sold his house and his 4X4 and now drives a Toyota Venture.
“Sometimes it gets scary. One of my colleagues is permanently negotiating money. He got everybody paid for the month. Now he’s started all over again.”
All the money is local, he says, and none has come from South African-based MTN, which late last year took a 30% share in the company. “That’s where the faith is. There are guys, bankers, black businessmen, who tell me, we won’t let you down.”
For how long can he keep going? “As long as God remains in it, I’m in it,” he responds.
Yes, but God doesn’t issue cellphone licences.