There’s not much to laugh about in Zimbabwe at the moment, but there is plenty of material for comedians who are pushing the limits of free expression, writes Mercedes Sayagues
I want to be a Zimbabwean policeman
I want to join the riot squad
I wanna kill a couple of workers
I know I’ll get away with it It’s part of my job.
When they are down on Second Street I’m gonna let the tear gas fly.
And when the foreign press ain’t watching a couple are going to die.
The audience claps wildly. The singer wears black sunglasses and a kind of decadent Elvis Presley look. The Book Caf, bordering Harare’s business district, is small and shabby. Bare bulbs, a basic stage. But the beers are cold and the ambience is cool.
Welcome to Zimbabwe’s political satire, where a generation of young comedians flay the regime with deadly aim.
Just as United States President Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky are a godsend for US comedians, so Robert and Grace Mugabe are central to the humour. The first couple provides great material. “They are so bizarre they are surrealistic,” says journalist Andy Meldrum.
A memorable skit by the theatre group Over the Edge last Christmas had Grace – played by a bearded, balding actor in drag – pushing Bob in a shopping trolley and waving from a Scottish castle (reference to a rumour last year that the couple had bought one). Grace, wearing a Carmen Miranda-style wide-brimmed hat, towered over Bob, sporting a kilt and matching beret.
In another skit by Edgar Langeveldt, the first lady whines: “I want the Congo, Bobby. I want diamonds. Mandela got Lesotho for his Grace. If you don’t get me the Congo, I’m going to say Nelson is taller than you. Get me the Congo, Bobby.”
In Zimbabwe’s racially strained climate, race relations are a profitable minefield for comedians. Many comedians are coloured and guiltlessly poke fun at black, white and coloured accents and prejudice. “We coloureds are definitively outsiders, but the distance enables me to see,” says Langeveldt.
Langeveldt’s show features Robbie the Rhodie, clad in khaki shorts and camouflage fatigue, swearing “fucking ‘ell” every five words. In drag, he portrays Evanthea, a coloured supermodel, lashing out at frivolous chicks.
His skit on an aging socialite and social climber with bouffant hair, a former fund- raiser for Ian Smith who now cuddles up to Grace Mugabe, is hilarious. Langeveldt captures how she massacres her basic Shona while hosting beauty contests.
That stand-up comedy and cabaret acts exist in Harare signals the city’s budding urban sophistication. But what is said on the stage mirrors deeper changes. “It is part of the opening of civil society, a civic refusal to be prescribed by politicians what to think,” says Iden Wetherell, an editor at The Independent weekly.
“It’s political protest,” says Langeveldt.
He joined the recent march for a new Constitution in Harare, wearing his trademark T-shirt, printed with a trendy Shona expression, Zvakapresser (We are under pressure). On the back, Laugh at life!
Like the independent press, comedians push the limits of free expression. Given Zimbabwe’s hardening climate, some fear reprisals. Over the Edge declined to be interviewed.
“We shouldn’t apologise for the spaces we conquer,” says human rights lawyer Tendai Biti. The courts have endorsed cartoons, comedy and satire as speech protected by Zimbabwe’s Bill of Rights, he adds.
However, last year, a drunk man was fined Z$1 000 for throwing darts at the president’s portrait in a bar. But Biti notes the man pleaded guilty without a lawyer arguing his case on grounds of freedom of expression.
The CIO, Zimbabwe’s feared secret service, appears so ubiquitous that opposition politicians and comedians often begin by greeting its members in the audience.
“There are CIO people all over the place but people don’t fear the CIO anymore,” says Zimbabwean writer Chenjerai Hove.
“Go into any pub, and it’s like a theatre, patrons ridiculing the government left, right and centre.The CIO cannot pick up people just for laughing, or the cells would be full.”
Langeveldt as Michael Jackson:
I came to Africa to see the sights
and it’s quite developed, there’s even lights.
I was talking to your president to see if everything is all right.
He said, if you are investing in Zim
it don’t matter if you are black or white.
Good, because I don’t know if I’m black or white.
Singing about the Zimbabwean police at the Book Caf is Tim Leach, a freelance cameraman who was raised in Zimbabwe but now lives in London. He regularly reports on Southern Africa.
“Things have changed, although not the authorities,” says Leach. “There is an unstoppable tide towards a future Zimbabwe, and hopefully it will grow so strong the government will drown in it.”
Meanwhile, people laugh. In December, Over the Edge sold out all five performances at Harare’s Seven Arts theatre, which seats 700.
Political comedy sold out in mainstream theatres is new, but critical theatre and music is not. When Zim Rights stages plays in townships and rural areas, its actors mock corrupt government officials. Thomas Mapfumo’s lyrics are packed with social criticism, decrying poverty and corruption. Plays by Bulawayo-based Cont Mhlanga denounce abuse of power and discrimination.
“On stage, we are given a licence to say what everybody thinks,” says Langeveldt.
Kurova bembera is a Shona tradition. When a woman is pounding grain, she may complain freely about her problems. She can criticise her mother-in-law or her husband and not be held accountable.
“Not the husband nor the chief nor the king can take action against her. If her husband beats her for saying this, she can take him to the chief to be fined,” says Hove.
A whole village can use kurova bembera to air its grievances, while trashing together. “It’s not a far-fetched link to political satire,” says Hove.
The roots may be in the past but the bite is very much today’s Zimbabwe: Zvakapresser!
I wanna kill a couple of students
down on Second Street and Unity Square
I’m gonna load my gun with live
I know it ain’t really fair.
And when they are down on Second Street
I’m gonna let the tear gas fly.
And when the foreign press ain’t watching I’m gonna kill Morgan Tsvangirai.