Fuel shortages, roadblocks, hijackings and intimidation are all part of daily life in Harare. Mercedes Sayagues reports
I returned to Harare after two weeks in Latin America and found a city that lives in fear. Many – I am one – fear when the needle on the fuel indicator drops below half a tank. Grief, horror, anguish: the horoscope predicts a fuel queue in your near future. That is, if you can find a station selling petrol.
Other motorists fear hijackings by armed gangs. The Insurance Council estimates an average of 20 hijackings a month, a sharp increase from last year. The rise runs parallel to farm invasions. Criminals piggyback on government-sanctioned lawlessness. “There are more gangs operating … increasingly ruthless, and well-armed with guns,” reports the council.
Motorists dread the three-week-old ubiquitous police roadblocks around Harare. Today, going to the post office, the gym and the supermarket, I went through five roadblocks within a 3km radius. Given the statistics, these roadblocks don’t seem to be catching many carjackers. They are cosmetic, for the benefit of observers and for the intimidation of locals.
Police do not mount roadblocks in Mberengwa or Murehwa, where militia are on the rampage, unless there is a rally. But war veterans do. On Monday, the owner of Poltimore farm in Wedza, 100km from Harare, reversed in front of a roadblock. His motorbike stalled and a dozen militia attacked him. Hit on the back of the neck with a chain, the farmer needed stitches. Two attackers were arrested.
Bicycle riders fear the municipal police blitz to catch bikers who have not paid the annual licence fee of Z$50. This amounts to one day of work or three loaves of bread. Biking into town are workers who cannot afford public transport. They pedal in rain and cold on their old, heavy bikes, patched for the hundredth time. Those whose bikes are impounded (the city charges a Z$10 daily parking fee) walk back home – three hours is not uncommon. The city is taxing the impoverished working class, not Robert Mugabe’s petrol-wasting 15-vehicle motorcade.
Pedestrians fear sudden attacks. These are not frequent but do happen. Downtown a gang pounced on a black man, asked who he would vote for. He hesitated. They roughed him up. Similar attacks targeted white teenagers walking home from school in broad daylight in the leafy suburbs of Avenues and Borrowdale.
On Monday I went to get accredited to report on the election and cough up the required $100 for the privilege. In the February referendum and in previous elections, accreditation was a quick and painless exercise conducted by friendly Ministry of Information staff. Today, the media centre has a really bad vibe. The guys seem to be Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) operatives in ill- fitting suits, scowling at you, double- checking every piece of information. It takes two days to process the card. Why, one wonders. Does the CIO check our particulars overnight?
On Sunday I attended rallies for the candidates vying for Harare East, comprising the affluent northern suburbs of Borrowdale, Chisipite and Highlands.
The Zanu-PF candidate, Stalin Mau-Mau, spared no expense. Big banners across the roads leading to Lewisam school announced the rally. The kwasa-kwasa band Lumumbashi Stars played. People got a free cap, T- shirt, badges, oranges, food and a voucher for a drink. Some 3 000 were bused in, a rather dispiri-ted crowd. They sat quietly on neat rows of white plastic chairs laid out on the manicured lawn. Not even kwasa- kwasa livened it up.
An electoral observer saw 10 trucks loaded with people arrive around 10am. She knew where they were coming from. On Saturday the observer met with 70 farmers from Enterprise Road, near Harare East, who complained they were forced to provide transport and farm workers for the rally.
I ask Mau-Mau about his programme for the constituency. He fumbles a bit, then answers it is land. Land is the economy and the economy is land, the Zanu-PF slogan. Mau-Mau wants to take over peri-urban farms and carve out residential stands for people from crowded townships.
Since the city is broke, how will the stands be serviced with sanitation and electricity, or is he planning on building a shantytown? “You foreigners don’t understand,” he replies cheerfully. “We will do it the African way. First we get the land. Then we get aid for the servicing. Anyway, you Western media are obsessed with infrastructure.”
I ask about his name. He will not explain whether it is his Chimurenga (liberation war) name or a given name. Asked about the meaning, he says: “I am not a Russian reincarnate. I am not a Kenyan reincarnate. I am an African Stalin.”
We both agree the moniker commands strong name recognition.
Asked about his qualifications, he mentions an MA in international organisations from London City University, and adds: “Write this: I have been a terrorist.”
Mau-Mau (46) is a plump, smooth, affable man, dressed in vaguely Mao-military style. He made his money and reputation as a boxing promoter, cellphone provider and, earlier, supplier of condom dispensaries in bars and hotels. Old-timers call him Mr Condom Mau-Mau.
Next to Mau-Mau is Border Gezi, the bearded, corpulent, sinister governor for Mashonaland Central. His province has suffered the worst violence and Gezi has been reported behind it. Militia run freely in Mash Central.
I ask if Mau-Mau would allow local monitors to sleep with the ballot boxes, as they did during the referendum: “You foreigners have an alarming paranoia about rigging, you are obsessed with it,” he says.
Given the tension between the government and the whites, does he think the affluent white residents of Harare East will vote for him? “They would if they were not racists,” he answers. Gezi adds: “Never mind, there are only 7 000 whites in this constituency among 42 000 voters!” Really? And how does he know? Who has counted them, one by one? Or has the registrar general given the election results for Harare East in advance?
All the hacks want to interview a white person attending the rally; so do the observers. So both observers and hacks keep asking white people if they are Zanu-PF supporters but they all turn out to be either hacks or observers.
In the afternoon, the candidate with the opposition Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) holds his rally. Some 3 000 supporters sit on the ground on a dusty open field past the racetrack. Mostly black, some coloured and whites, old and young. There are no chairs, no free drinks or food or caps. People have paid for their own transport or walked. The few trucks that brought people belong to MDC supporters.
The candidate is Tendai Biti (33), a prominent human rights lawyer. Biti has taken the government to court defending freedom of expression and challenging repressive laws. He is wearing an indigo- blue African outfit.
Next to him are women activists Grace Kwinjeh and Priscilla Misharabaiwi, lawyer Brian Kagoro and human rights activist Mike Auret – an impressive line- up.
There is no kwasa-kwasa band but there is spontaneous dancing, heartfelt clapping and laughter.
One speaker has everybody in stitches. “I ask President Mugabe why he has his clenched fist in the air. He says, to show we can hit you! I ask President Mugabe why Zanu uses red, and he answers: because we like to kill and we like to remind you we like to kill! I ask Morgan Tsvangirai why he salutes with an open hand. He says: because we welcome you with an open, tolerant heart! I ask Tsvangirai why MDC uses green and white. He says: green is for reviving Zimbabwe, white for the purity of our intentions.” The crowd loves it.
I ask Biti about his programme. First, he describes the constituency: middle class with a strong working-class element, a typical social- democratic balance. “Fix the economy,” he says. “Reduce the budget deficit. Bring the troops back from the [Democratic Republic of Congo]. Renegotiate the debt. It is unacceptable that half of every dollar of revenue goes to service debt. If you bring down the budget deficit, you bring down interest rates. That frees money to invest on the industrial base and create jobs. Attack fiscal discipline and wastage. Reduce Cabinet. A leaner government will generate savings that can be ploughed back into social services. Go for rural electrification. Abolish the dual economy.”
I would add, fix the potholes in Harare. We drive in slalom, like drunken drivers.
More in my wish list: police should watch closely over the 46 war vets and Zanu supporters arrested in a police raid three weeks ago in connection with kidnappings and torture at Dr Chenjerai Hitler Hunzvi’s surgery in Budiriro. They were freed on Z$500 bail on Monday. Three times a judge had refused them bail, on grounds they would interfere with witnesses.
The Anglican bishop in Manicaland, Sebastian Bakare, has publicly offered all Anglican churches in his diocese as places of sanctuary or safe ground “for those whose lives are in danger, who no longer feel safe at home”. He asked the clergy and church wardens to help those “who are in need of refuge due to political intimidation”.
One who badly needs sanctuary is the MDC supporter from Kambudzuma who was allegedly tortured by CIO officers (Mail & Guardian, May 19 to 25). They drove a bicycle spoke up his anus and through his penis. In early June, a suspected CIO agent tried to kidnap him at gunpoint from a Harare hospital. The nurse was alerted by other patients and the agent fled.
Over the weekend, yet another MDC supporter was killed in Mberengwa, a hot spot that does not calm down. Finos Zhou died after being tortured with sticks and iron bars for two days by war vets at the occupied Texas farm.
The story was on page two of the Daily News. Murder is becoming commonplace; the sanctity of life, worthless.
The small flyer handed out at the MDC rally said: “The [Zanu-PF] party is terrified of losing power. After 20 years it has much to hide and it knows it is no longer popular. Therefore, it believes only sticks and stones and clubs and guns can frighten us … Take courage, Zimbabwe. Your vote is your secret. If you vote MDC, you will never have to live in fear of your own government again.”