A large white house on the road in the township of Luveve, on the outskirts of Bulawayo, is a striking sight with its yellow double-thick wall, three metres in height.
Locals call it the ‘Nigerian house” because, well, it looks a lot like houses in Nigerian films and sits impressively against a backdrop of tiny homes with small fences and makeshift gates.
A light bulb perched on the wall is what usually draws my attention as I pass by on my way home. It is always on, day or night. But recent power cuts have meant that it is frequently off.
Farther down the road, clouds of smoke from fires where sadza (pap) is being prepared hang over houses, a further indication that there is no electricity.
‘It’s like this every day for the whole week, cooking lunch and supper by fire or primus stove and then going to sleep early because there is nothing else to do,” Candy Khumalo tells me in her kitchen, in flickering candlelight.
‘Sometimes the power cuts can last for the whole night and morning of the next day and it’s when kids playing on the street start shouting hysterically that you know electricity is back.” She presses her cellphone to check the time and sighs.
‘What’s most frustrating is that I can’t watch Generations and I terribly miss it.” Power cuts have increased in Zimbabwe recently, lasting between 10 and 12 hours a day.
A desperate situation is unfolding with the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (Zesa) struggling to meet monthly domestic demands of 2 200MW of electricity against the current average production of 900MW, which is generated from the Kariba hydro plant and imports.
Hampered further by the inability of Hwange power station to operate at peak (the power station is ‘under stress and leveraging between one to two units”, according to a Zesa official) the country’s power supply is in a critical state.
Hwange, a key power source in the country, has witnessed a slump in electricity generation over the past decade due to the breakdown of aged equipment and inadequate funding to buy spares to revamp units. This, despite a power purchase agreement drafted in February 2007 between Zimbabwe and Namibia, through which NamPower paid US$40-million to Zesa for the refurbishment of Hwange.
Under the ‘win-win agreement” Zesa delivers 150MW of electricity to NamPower for five years — regardless of the situation at Hwange. But even though electricity generation at Hwange is at just 45% of operating capacity, Zesa officials have rejected reports that they are considering decommissioning the station. And a recent US$10-million cash injection from the government earlier this month to refurbish Hwange seems to back that up.
Besides, says Zesa spokesperson Fullard Gwasira, ‘even if Hwange was working at full capacity, power cuts would still continue because the demand for power is so dynamic and we are importing at least 35% of our electricity demands”.
Economic analysts have warned that the erratic power supplies in the country are a threat to the full recovery of the economy, despite the 4.7% growth last year. As a measure against the long hours without electricity, many businesses — from supermarkets and fast-food outlets to banks and butcheries — are now using generators.
At a pricy US$160 for a petrol-powered 10hp generator that provides basic lighting, to the industrial-size generators costing upwards of US$1 000, alternative power sources are too expensive for most in Zimbabwe.
Members of Women of Zimbabwe Arise (Woza) and residents recently issued the power utility with yellow cards demanding that Zesa ‘shape up or ship out”. They are demanding that the power utility reduces its monthly electricity charges to US$5 as residents are without electricity for extended periods.
On average, current monthly electricity bills range between US$30 and US$60, with ratepayers parting with 20% to 40% of their salaries on electricity alone.
Zesa is adamant that its service delivery problems are linked to the accruing debt owed by residents in unpaid bills, which they claim is now at more than US$380-million. They estimate that 21% of consumers in Bulawayo have not paid a single cent since January 2009 towards their electricity bills, funds that could be channelled towards improving Zesa’s service delivery.
Back at home the light bulb at the Nigerian house is off again. Clutching my laptop and HTC smartphone, I silently pray that they see me through to the next day — or until there is electricity again.
My laptop is the only means of accessing the internet via dial-up and informing friends and family on Facebook and Twitter about my lack-of- power-induced prolonged silence and to complete my unfinished work and meet the boss’s deadline.
A weak battery makes my laptop less useful, so it’s the cellphone that I use mostly nowadays. I SMS friends and type work assignments on my phone. It’s the last resort against falling idle and gazing at the time futilely, waiting for the unknown.