A year after Operation Murambatsvina, the government’s campaign to purge informal settlements, the lives of thousands of affected Zimbabweans have not changed.
Uprooted last year from their homes in the capital, Harare, families have been squeezed into tiny living spaces authorised by the government on the outskirts of the city. They have no source of employment and, in some cases, no access to medical facilities.
At night, families of six or seven often share the mud floor of a temporary shelter or one of the few new government-constructed brick houses — both about 12m2 — smaller than an average garage. Those who failed to make it to the camps have chosen either to reconstruct their demolished dwellings or to return to their rural homes.
The government claimed that the operation was aimed at clearing slums and flushing out criminals. More than 700 000 people were left homeless or without a livelihood. As yet another winter sets in, living conditions in the open fields around Harare that are serving as resettlement camps could not be harsher.
Residents protect themselves from the biting winds and rain by using plastic sheets in doorways and windows; the brick houses or self-erected wood and corrugated iron shacks are incomplete.
Most do not have enough to feed their families. Ethel Goche (60) used to sell vegetables and firewood in the streets of Harare to support her seven orphaned grandchildren; now she struggles to make R3 a day. Goche has set up shop in front of the permanent house allocated to her by the government in the resettlement camp in Hatfield, 15km north of Harare. But there are few customers.
”I grow vegetables, which helps feed the children, but I have no money for their [school] fees, which have gone up to $2,5million [about R84] a term. I have not seen that kind of money, so there will be no school for them this time. I managed to sell a few things and raise enough money last term.”
With inflation at 913%, schools have hiked their fees by more than 1 000% for the new term.
According to the Consumer Council of Zimbabwe, a family of four now needs at least R2 100 a month for essentials, but average monthly incomes are less than R600.
Local NGOs provide monthly rations of maize meal and vegetable oil — made available by the United Nations’s World Food Programme — to about 3 000 households identified as vulnerable in the resettlement camps. The rest, which constituted the majority, have to find their own food. The government does not allow general food distribution in the camps.
In the Hopley Farm resettlement site, 10km south of the city, vulnerable families can find it much harder to access food aid. An omnipresent security apparatus runs the camp. ”The security authorities, who guard the camp, decide who gets on the list of vulnerable families eligible for food or non-food aid. Each list is checked by the authority,” claimed a resident.
Others claimed the security personnel had planted ”spies” in the camp to counter any rebellion and demanded sexual favours from residents.
Last year the controversial camp made headlines when Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights claimed that the government was preventing aid from reaching displaced families. The lawyers alleged that people had gone for a week or more without food, clean water, sanitary facilities and shelter.
Minister of Local Government, Public Works and Urban Development Ignatius Chombo said the security personnel in Hopley were needed to protect the construction material lying in the area. He also justified the need to ”vet” families for food aid, as ”we have a lot of outsiders, like Zambians and Mozambicans, making their way to these areas, so we have to verify and ensure that those who receive assistance are deserving Zimbabweans”.
The government has started building and allocating permanent houses in Hopley under its urban renewal housing project. Chombo said the government had already constructed 7 000 houses across the country and intended constructing another 15 000 by next year.
The affected residents argue that the government’s response is slow and inadequate.
Addressing queries on the affected families’ inability to earn a livelihood, Chombo maintained that informal traders affected by the operation, which had ”helped to sanitise the streets of Harare”, had the right to operate in designated areas.
But dispossessed informal traders complained that they had to wait in queues for days at local authority offices, attempting to get a licence. ”We have just given up, I am trying to see what else I can do,” said one such trader.
In areas like Epworth, one of Harare’s poorest suburbs, people have chosen to resist Murambatsvina by reconstructing their demolished homes. Others have sought refuge in the unique rock formations outside Harare, away from the eyes of officials. ”We feel safe here,” said a resident, even though the authorities were aware of their presence. ”We have left our fates to God,” said another. ”Otherwise I don’t know what will become of my family and my life in the next few months.”