/ 22 February 2002

If it wasn’t for journalists, Africa would be paradise

loose cannon

Robert Kirby

Dear Minister Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, Here, as instructed, is the second totally independent interim report of the Special South African Election Observer Mission to Zimbabwe.

As our mission leader, Dr Sam Motsuenyane, confirmed last Sunday on SABC-TV, our election observer mission was most cordially welcomed on our arrival in Harare by members of the Zimbabwe government. We were indeed treated like valued guests, which immediately put the lie to what certain South African and European media had been reporting about other election observers being rudely “thrown out of the country”. Indeed, that very evening, at the luxury banquet specially mounted for our mission, we were amazed at the lengths to which our Zanu-PF party hosts would go in order to make foreign observer missions feel at home. One or two religiously inhibited members of our mission thought the topless lap-dancers and the rather delicious teenage waiters (their tiny ethno-traditional loin cloths were an absolute delight) were going a bit far, but generally we didn’t complain much.

The next morning we were in for more treats. No less than Mr Inf Min himself, Jonathan Moyo, had agreed to guide our group on a tour of some so-called election “trouble spots”. Here we were privileged to meet some of the intrepid “war veterans” who had sacrificed limb and life while ejecting millions of despicable white colonialists all those years ago. Talking to these warriors was a revelation and we came away very impressed at the mature and humanist manner in which they conducted themselves. More remarkable considering some of them were only 13 years old. Unfortunately a couple of their number took strong exception to two white members accompanying our group and before you could say “targeted sanctions” these two unfortunates had been relieved of their cellphones, wrist watches, wallets and, in one case, shoes, socks and asthma puffer. Both also received a few playful strokes with some [black] rhino-hide quirts, but we managed to get them to our waiting limousines before this quite understandable display of righteous indignation at arrogant colonialist interference got too intense.

The next day we were scheduled to meet members of the opposition Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) but this had to be put off because they couldn’t find any. Apparently most of them are under house arrest or have simply vanished. Others were in prison awaiting trial for treasonous criticism of the far-sighted policies of President Mugabe. Many were dead from mysterious tropical diseases.

We did get to interview one stray MDC supporter who defiantly showed us what he claimed were whip marks from an assault by Zanu-PF democratic soldiers. Mr Moyo said this was nonsense and that the numerous still-bleeding trenches across the man’s shoulders and back had been inflicted as part of a traditional Shona initiation ceremony. At the age of 43 all tribal males get lacerated with barbed wire whips to test their manliness. We were distressed to see that similar wounds covered both the man’s wives and his 17 children, including several babies, and to hear of the vicious rape of all females and the burning of the entire village in which the MDC supporter lived. Jonathan said the MDC supporters often did this to themselves just to make Zanu-PF look bad.

That evening we were honoured to meet the grand old master of African revolutionary politics, The Truly Eminent and Honourable President-for-Life, Robert Mugabe. What an experience for us, even as shell-shocked as we still were after the bomb that went off that afternoon in the newsroom of the tawdry little opposition tabloid rag while we were grilling its editor in his office.

Listening to the fantastic Mugabe speak to us was like drinking treacle from some giant nipple. He was exactly the way our own Aziz Pahad had described him and much more. There were the gentle eyes, bright red from weeping at the gross misrepresentation of his country by the filthy Blair-led scoundrels of Europe. How wonderful to touch the palsied hands that once so firmly led Zimbabwe from the colonially governed disaster to the economic miracle it is today; the same hands that calmly directed the Fifth Brigade in its onerous task of cleansing Matabeleland of 800000 squalid political infighters. But oh to see the sorrow inscribed upon that care-worn face in the knowledge that some vile European bastards are threatening to freeze the long-accumulated financial reserves being held in trust for Zimbabweans by Mr Mugabe and 19 of his close colleagues in the government.

These first 10 days have been a real eye-opener. The talk of petrol shortages is rubbish. Our motorcade has had full tanks from start to finish. The same for the cheap rumour of countrywide famine. Every merry little orange-haired child we saw boasted a large taut belly.

It put us in mind of something our own wise president has said on more than one occasion: if it wasn’t for journalists, Africa would be one long paradise, just like Zimbabwe.

cc: Marthinus van Schalkwyk NNP-ANC Alliance