The grandeur of the Victoria Falls is in stark contrast to the rest of Zimbabwe.



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It is eight days before Christmas. We take the
1,300-kilometer drive from Johannesburg to Victoria Falls for a short vacation.
As we arrive in Beitbridge, the border connecting South Africa and Zimbabwe,
the sun is shining its warm golden light over the bridge. There are no birds
chirping over the Limpopo River. It seems like a peaceful morning, until you
get closer.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 



There is pandemonium as hundreds of cars line up to be stripped and searched before proceeding into Zimbabwe. Most here are Zimbabwean nationals working in South Africa traveling home for the holidays.  



They are bringing with them many supplies like cooking oil, fuel, stationery, furniture, clothing, drinks, building material and even Christmas trees. These items are scarce and overpriced in Zimbabwe. 



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Some want to sell them to hurried customers and others want to use them at home. The problem is, most of them require as much as 40% duty and others can’t be imported. 



“Is your friend here today? I would like him to help me
cross with my goods,” I overhear a man in the autumn of his life say over the
phone. 



He isn’t the only one trying to smuggle goods into Zimbabwe. According to local reports, the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority (ZIMRA) loses over $1 billion due to smuggling each year. With hundreds trying to make their way across, a journey to Victoria Falls is delayed by at least five hours. 



As we drive into Beitbridge, we can see and almost smell
struggle. This place is seized by an oppressive gloom. Our first stop is an
Engine Garage that now operates almost like a tuckshop. Here, fuel tanks are
dry and the shop inside has only bread, water, cold drinks, biscuits and chips.



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Outside, it is filled by a crowd of people pushing, shoving,
shouting, buying and selling. There is dirty water flowing down the street and
litter fills the potholes. Yet, this grubby place is seeing more trade than
Zimbabwe’s biggest banks. Here, the black market is king and the bond notes are
pawns.



In 2016, the government introduced bond notes in hopes to
ease the cash crisis that saw the US dollar become scarce. The Reserve Bank may
say bond notes are 1:1 to the US dollar; the free market says no.&nbsp; The black market traders are selling 1 US
dollar for three bond notes.&nbsp; 



“I used to be an accountant with a good job but our company closed down and now I am jobless. I have to make a living somehow so I rather sell cash on the streets to put food on the table,” says Bongani Moyo.



&nbsp;As we drive further
into Zimbabwe, the situation gets worse. Stores are packed with imported goods;
roads and buildings are dilapidated. One of the biggest problems is fuel. 



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“I just came out of a two-day fuel queue.&nbsp; The situation is bad. People can’t go to work
and sometimes people hire [other] people to spend the day queueing for them,”
says Given Mwale, as he directs us to a garage that sells fuel in foreign
currency so we can continue our journey to Victoria Falls.



“That is the only garage that doesn’t get many queues and
doesn’t run out of fuel. It is a private garage. They import their fuel from
Botswana and they only sell in forex,” he says. 



Shocked by the scarcity of cash, we drive towards Victoria
Falls. On the way, many businesses are boarded up, their paint peeling and
doors closed. As we arrive in Victoria Falls, there are jaw-dropping scenes. 



The place looks nothing like the rest of Zimbabwe. Fueled by
the tourist economy, the streets are clean and the business district&nbsp; buzzing. People are relaxed in summer
clothing and look like they have no worry. It is a true holiday destination. 



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At Victoria Falls, the Zambezi River plummets over a cliff and into the boiling pot before flowing through a series of gorges. It has a width of 1,708 meters and a height of 108 meters, making it the world’s largest sheet of falling water.



 As nature lovers, we experience the falls while walking through a rainforest and playing with monkeys. We also get to watch the sunset while drinking champagne in an open boat. 



For a few hours, we forgot the troubles that belie Zimbabwe;
until we drove out of Victoria Falls, back to Bulawayo. There may be laughter
and foreign currency near the smoke that thunders but the rest of the country
continues to cry for an economic breakthrough.&nbsp;

Aerial view of Zambezi River and Victoria Falls. Livingstone. Zambia

Zimbabwe: Two Realities In One Country

When an elephant charges, all you can do is pray and try and get out of its way; especially when you are stuck in a two-man canoe riding the powerful current on the Zambezi River.
It is a far cry from sipping a pina colada on a deckchair under a tree. It’s the last thing you would expect, but staring into the eyes of a two-ton beast that is only 10 meters away from you, will change the way you look at the world. This is the Lower Zambezi National Park, in Zambia, where the idea of a good time is getting as close as you can to nature without being trampled.
Most tourists would find Zambia difficult to point out on the map. It’s quite easy to overlook. It is hemmed in by Africa’s best known wildlife tourist destinations: Botswana; Mozambique; the Democratic Republic of Congo; Malawi; Tanzania and Zimbabwe. Up until 1991, the country was a socialist state, which prized copper over tourism. Now, the country has flung open its doors and is hoping to double tourism from 300,000 to 600,000 visits by 2015 and increase GDP from 2% to 7%, in line with Zimbabwe. It is arguably the freest economy in sub-Saharan Africa.
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What it means is more people are likely to be drawn to the thundering Victoria Falls, millions of fruit bats migrating, tiger fish jumping out of the water, and running away from elephants on the banks of the Zambezi River; or in some cases rowing furiously.
My introduction to Zambia came from game ranger, Wallace Kabompa, who works in the national park where he grew up, for Chiawa Camp; the only bush camp in the big five reserve, which lies on the Zimbabwe border.
For Kabompa, hippos and elephants walking in your backyard is just another day. He grew up fishing along the Zambezi, he has chased leopards from his patio and he has run from so many elephants in the bush he could do it professionally.
“The dangers are very real. I have seen it first-hand. When I was very young, I went swimming in a pool close to the river with my friend. My friend went down, underwater, and then he went for good. I never saw him again. His parents came to me and said ‘where is your friend?’. I said I didn’t know. He had been eaten by a crocodile. I tell you, I have been beaten by my parents not to swim in the Zambezi. My parents would say don’t you know there are crocodiles, it’s dangerous,&#8221; he says.
Standing by the river he warns tourists of the dangers of canoes.
“I just need to point out that the Zambezi River is dangerous. When you are in the canoe please do not dip your hands into the river. Crocodiles are advantageous predators, and we don’t want them to take advantage of your hands. Elephants will give you a toot when they think you are getting too close. But it’s nothing to be scared of, they are just saying hi. If we encounter a mother with her baby they are more aggressive. All you can do is try not to get in their way. So… who wants to go in front?” he says.
A Dutch family, red of nose and sweating profusely in the 40 degree heat, watch skeptically as he speaks. Their sunburned faces turn white at the mention of being in front. With Kabompa’s cautious speech over, we board our canoes and enter the Zambezi. Kabompa boards the two-man canoe with me, the eager photographer, in front.
As the sun sets, the water glistens in golden light. In the still of the evening, Kabompa’s warning came to life like a snake in a bed. It started so sedately. In the distance, a herd of elephants crossed the river. The only problem was at the end of the line were two females with a baby.
“Let’s get close, I really need a good photo,” I say.
Kabompa obliges and we drift closer, hugging the shoreline. It was as quiet as the grave. The elephants begin to cross the river, but as they reach our side of the shore there is a problem. They get stuck. In their panic, their bodies crash against one another. Their ears flap madly. They then turn and come straight for us.
You may think an elephant charging in water is slow. Think again. An elephant slices through water like it is going through a field of grass. White water churns at their feet. Their trumpeting gets louder with every step. Their trunks smash the water. It is terrifying.
When it is 50 meters away you think it can never reach you. When it is 35 meters away you worry that it will. When it is just 15 meters you realize one stamp of the foot could turn your body to dog meat.
It is at this time that Kabompa saves us from the butcher shop. He slams his paddle in the water violently, sending us in reverse. Ten meters from us, where our canoe was a few moments before, the beasts take a sharp right turn and scramble up the bank. I thank the heavens.
Our canoe rocks in the elephants’ wash. I turn to Kabompa, too stunned to speak. He looks back with a smile as wide as the Zambezi.
“Was that close enough?” he asks.
All I could do is nod in agreement as the canoe drifts away to live another day.
“Do you need to change your pants?” Michelle, one of the Dutch tourists, asks.
No change needed after a moment deep in the Zambian bush that will live with me for the rest of my life.
&nbsp;
With gratitude to the Zambian Tourism Board and Proflight Zambia for accommodation and flights.

Tag: Zambezi River

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Zimbabwe: Two Realities In One Country

When The Elephant Says Hi… Run!