Nobody is safe from the rages of Zimbabwe’s First Lady, “<a href="https://www.thestandard.co.zw/2014/09/21/grace-mugabes-doctorate-uz-remains-mum/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dr</a>. Amai” Grace Mugabe. There was the young <a href="https://www.iol.co.za/news/special-features/zimbabwe/grace-mugabe-split-my-head-open-claims-joburg-woman-10788605" target="_blank" rel="noopener">South African model</a> Grace lashed with extension cords. Ninety-three-year-old President Robert Mugabe’s longtime and usually trusted ally <a href="https://www.africa-confidential.com/article/id/12164/Mugabe_drops_the_crocodile" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Emmerson Mnangagwa</a>, was next in the firing line: he was sacked because his supporters allegedly <a href="https://www.news24.com/Africa/Zimbabwe/an-ordinary-man-after-all-mugabe-fires-right-hand-man-mnangagwa-20171106" target="_blank" rel="noopener">booed</a> her at a rally.
The consequences of her vengeance may have <a href="http://nehandaradio.com/2017/11/14/live-updates-situation-zimbabwe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">led to a coup</a> headed by Zimbabwe’s army chief General Constantino Chiwenga, who is commonly perceived to be Mnangagwa’s protégé. But <a href="https://www.voanews.com/a/who-is-emmerson-mnangagwa/4115612.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ex-freedom fighter Mnangagwa</a> has his own presidential aspirations.
Mnangagwa has been exiled from the party in which he has served since he was a teenager. But he is not just skulking in the political wilderness. On arrival in South Africa he issued a statement calling those who wanted him out <a href="https://www.news24.com/Africa/Zimbabwe/full-statement-im-not-going-anywhere-zanu-pf-is-not-your-personal-property-mnangagwa-tells-mugabe-20171108" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“minnows”</a>. He promised to control his party “very soon” and urged his supporters to register to vote in the national elections next July.
As if to back Mnangagwa, on November 13 General Chiwenga announced that he and his officers could not allow the “counter-revolutionary infiltrators”, implied to be behind Grace Mugabe, to <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/11/13/zimbabwe-army-chief-warns-mugabes-party-military-may-intervene/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">continue their purges</a>.
<h2>Factions and purges</h2>
Chiwenga <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-41992351" target="_blank" rel="noopener">declared</a> that the armed forces must ensure all party members attend the extraordinary Zanu-PF congress next month with “equal opportunity to exercise their democratic rights”. He flashed back through Zanu-PF’s history of factionalism, reminding his listeners that although the military “will not hesitate to step in” it has never “usurped power”. Chiwenga promised to defuse all the differences “amicably and in the ruling party’s closet”.
Although this airbrushed more than it <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/02589001.2014.956499" target="_blank" rel="noopener">revealed</a> about the party’s rough patches when leadership vacuums appeared, the statement appeared more as a cautionary note than a clarion call to arms. It’s not often a coup is announced before it starts; but once in motion direction – and history – can change. Grace Mugabe may have unleashed a perfect storm and her own undoing.
All the “shenanigans” that have inspired the generals to consider a coup have set the stage for an extraordinary Zanu-PF congress this December instead of in the expected 2019: that is, before rather than after the July 2018 national elections.
This suggests some people were in a hurry to settle the succession issues for the president, who is now showing every one of his 93 years. Maybe Robert Mugabe won’t rule until he is <a href="http://www.hsrcpress.ac.za/product.php?productid=2114&amp;freedownload=1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">100-years-old</a>. If not, and <a href="https://beta.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/mugabes-zimbabwe-has-an-angry-population-and-a-potentially-violentfuture/article36934238/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">members of his family</a> or party wanted to keep their dynasties alive, they had to work quickly lest some similarly inclined contenders are in their way.
These contenders include Mnangagwa and a slew of his <a href="http://www.pindula.co.zw/Lacoste,_Zanu-PF_Faction" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“Lacoste” faction</a> consisting of war veterans and the odd financial liberal. The best-known of these is Patrick Chinamasa. This former finance minister tried to convince the world’s bankers he could pull Zimbabwe <a href="https://theconversation.com/zimbabwes-financial-system-is-living-on-borrowed-time-and-borrowed-money-86159" target="_blank" rel="noopener">out of the fire</a>. He was demoted to control cyberspace and then fired. Perhaps he may make a comeback in the wake of the semi-coup.
The pro-Grace faction includes the members of <a href="https://www.theindependent.co.zw/2016/03/18/what-does-g40-want/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Generation 40, or “G-40”</a>. Many are well over 40. But in Robert Mugabe’s shadow they appear young, as does the 52-year-old First Lady. Without a base in the liberation-war cohort, they resorted to working with the Mugabe couple: sometimes their ideology appears radical, espousing indigenous economics and more land to the tillers.
If the history of their best-known member – the current Minister of Higher Education <a href="https://www.pindula.co.zw/Jonathan_Moyo" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Jonathan Moyo</a> – is indicative, however, they are pragmatic; or less politely put, opportunist.
But with Grace Mugabe sans Robert, they would have to muster inordinate amounts of patience and manipulation to steer the sinking ship to the shores of stable statehood and incorporate yet <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Search-Elusive-Zimbabwean-Dream-Autobiography/dp/0994707924" target="_blank" rel="noopener">younger generations</a> who cut their political teeth as Robert Mugabe’s rule faltered.
<h2>Perfidious ‘saviours’</h2>
Yet the possible plan for the upcoming congress – to create a third vice-president – appears not to move far beyond the cold hands of the old. <a href="https://www.news24.com/Tags/People/phelekezela_mphoko" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Phelekezela Mphoko</a> would be pushed to third vice-president status. Grace would be the second vice-president.
The current defence minister, <a href="https://www.theindependent.co.zw/2017/11/10/mnangagwas-great-escape-details/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sydney Sekeramayi</a> would be first vice-president and so, next in line for the presidential palace. He is a quiet but no less tarnished member of the Zanu-PF old guard; especially when one remembers the massacre of thousands of Ndebele people during the <a href="https://books.google.co.za/books?id=zi-tWekXbD8C&amp;pg=PA19&amp;lpg=PA19&amp;dq=%22the+early+rain+which+washes+away+the+chaff+before+the+spring+rains%22&amp;source=bl&amp;ots=dWX2SIUj7r&amp;sig=0aDLpmmQfN93e_RNJuKcBmGGEYI&amp;hl=en&amp;sa=X&amp;ved=0ahUKEwioi-joj6LWAhWE7hoKHRF_C7wQ6AEIOTAD#v=onepage&amp;q=%22the%20early%20rain%20which%20washes%20away%20the%20chaff%20before%20the%20spring%20rains%22&amp;f=false" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gukurahundi</a>.
When performing the calculus necessary to rectify Zimbabwe’s graceless imbalances, remember that Mnangagwa was perhaps the key architect of the nearly genocidal Gukurahundi, now chronicled in archival detail in historian Stuart Doran’s <a href="https://www.sithatha.com/books" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kingdom, Power, Glory: Mugabe, Zanu, and the Quest for Supremacy</a>. Among the scores implicated therein are the British, condemned by Hazel Cameron, another meticulous archivist, as exercising <a href="https://www.st-andrews.ac.uk/news/archive/2017/zimbabwe-cameron/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“wilful blindness”</a> during what Robert Mugabe has dismissed as a “moment of madness”.
Perhaps it’s no surprise, then, that many are suspicious of Mnangagwa’s <a href="http://africanarguments.org/2017/11/08/zimbabwe-the-uks-misguided-role-in-the-rise-and-fall-of-mnangagwa/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">relationship</a> with the UK. Many suspect he has been swimming with perfidious Albion for a very, very long time.
Those waters, in the shadow of Mugabe’s heritage, will take a few more generations of hard political work to clear. It hardly seems propitious that a coup, and the same generation that has ruled since 1980, starts it off.
&#8211; Written by <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/david-b-moore-285501" target="_blank" rel="author noopener">David B. Moore</a>, Professor of Development Studies, University of Johannesburg and originally published in <a href="https://theconversation.com/africa" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>
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What’s next for embattled Zimbabwe?

Zimbabwe&#8217;s Pastor Evan Mawarire, the Founder of the #ThisFlag movement in 2016, has been arrested for supporting a protest by medical students.
Mawarire was arrested on Monday at the University of Zimbabwe while praying with medical students engaged in a protest over academic fees.
Amnesty International has labelled the arrest of Zimbabwean Pastor Evan Mawarire as history repeating itself.
Mawarire was arrested on Monday at the University of Zimbabwe while praying with medical students engaged in a protest over academic fees.
&#8220;His arrest unfortunately shows that he continues to be targeted by a government hell-bent on criminalizing him for exercising his rights to freedom of expression and peaceful assembly,&#8221; says <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/en/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Amnesty International</a>’s Deputy Regional Director for Southern Africa, Belinda Moses.
“Pastor Evan Mawarire is a prisoner of conscience held solely for the peaceful exercise of his rights. He must be immediately and unconditionally released.”
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/focus/2016/08/01/say-loud-proud-risk-ending-baghdad/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Say It Loud, Proud And At The Risk Of Ending Up In Baghdad</a>
In 2016, Mawarire led several anti-government protests against corruption, human rights violations and the declining economy in the country.
He was previously arrested on 12 July 2016 and charged with incitement to commit public violence after leading a national strike on 6 July. He was then released after a magistrate found his arrest to be unconstitutional and dismissed the charge against him.
In an interview with FORBES AFRICA in July 2016, Mawarire admitted that he fears for his life and suspected he would be rearrested.
“I’m definitely worried of re-arrest and I know they are trying to take me. I see danger and I fear for my life but I am more afraid of failing to explain to my children for having done nothing. Recently somebody called me and threatened to strangle me with the flag. Two government ministers have attacked me personally on social media. They are not used to citizens rising up and speaking to them.”
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/sometime-in-africa/2016/08/01/helped-us-not-afraid-anymore/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">&#8220;He Has Helped Us Not To Be Afraid Anymore&#8221;</a>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/evan.mawarire/videos/10154679340967043/">https://www.facebook.com/evan.mawarire/videos/10154679340967043/</a>
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Photo by Motlabana Monnakgotla

#ThisFlag Pastor Mawarire Arrested For Praying With Students

The toughest day in her entrepreneurial journey – inspired by the large number of travelers passing through the numerous police roadblocks she manned in and around Kariba, Zimbabwe – is the day Patricia Mazvidza’s guest lodge opened its doors.
A veteran of Zimbabwe’s liberation war, Mazvidza shrugged off the comfort of government employment as a police officer. She had risen to the commissioned rank of inspector and later on to superintendent.
“The idea to start a guest lodge initially came in 2002 while I was working at the roadblocks as a police officer here in Kariba,” says Mazvidza at her business, Dzimbabwe Lodge, in Kariba. “Most of the cars you would stop at the police roadblocks were carrying tourists and other travelers to Kariba.”
She always wondered where these people would sleep and if they were comfortable during their visit.
Roadblocks are a topical issue in Zimbabwe, but the police deny that it sets targets for each team manning the numerous blockades in Harare. On the day of the interview with Mazvidza, there were nine police roadblocks between Harare and Kariba.
At each roadblock, police officers flag you down, ask for your driver’s licence and check for front and back reflectors, vehicle licence and ask you to open your trunk to check the spare wheel, breakdown triangles and serviceable fire extinguisher.
If you don’t have any of the required equipment, they book you and ask you to pay on-the-spot fines, which range between $10 and $20. If you don’t pay the fine, your vehicle is impounded.
In addition to burning a hole in tourists’ pockets, the roadblocks are hurting Mazvidza’s business. She thinks they deter tourists from traveling to Zimbabwe. She tells FORBES AFRICA that the roadblocks are being handled differently to when she was a police officer.
“When we did our training for law and policing, we were always told and we always observed the importance of warning – you don’t just rush to book and fine just for the sake of collecting a fine,” she says.
Apart from the guest lodge, which has 16 rooms and which is in the process of expanding to 35 rooms, Mazvidza also runs a thriving petrol and diesel filling station under a franchise agreement with Zuva Petroleum.
At the filling station, which opened in 2014, and where profit margins are 6 cents per liter, Mazvidza has opened the Zuva Restaurant and is working on adding a vehicle servicing station.
“I saw that if I put all my eggs in one basket, you will be left with nothing if the basket breaks up. We did not have the experience to run a fueling station and at first I hesitated but it is doing fairly well, but you have to supplement it with other businesses such as the restaurant and servicing garage that we are setting up,” she says.
Mazvidza’s husband is a civil engineer working for the Zambezi River Authority which oversees the Lake Kariba. He encouraged her to soldier on with the business and he also did the design for the guest lodge.
“My best day in the office is actually the day we started the guest lodge business. I was hesitant and thinking ‘what if people do not come and it becomes idle’. Yet, when we opened doors in 2002, there was so much demand and now we are not afraid of even the big lodges and hotels here in Kariba because I believe in the services we offer and the smartness and relaxed nature of our services,” she said
She has no worst day in her entrepreneurial journey but she wishes she had started the hospitality business earlier. The guest lodge – which has presidential, executive, family and single rooms – is complemented by two boathouses on Lake Kariba.
Her business is a world away from where the 53-year-old Mazvidza started. She was born in Mutoko, in eastern Zimbabwe, and crossed over into Mozambique for liberation war training while she was still in primary school. She returned to Zimbabwe in 1980 and later enrolled for the police force.
“I joined the police force in 1983 after undergoing police training at Tomlinson Depot in Harare and was stationed at Mbizo in Kwekwe. I was then posted to Kariba in 1989 which saw me promoted from constable to sergeant and then to inspector in 2000,” says Mazvidza.
“I was then further promoted, in 2002, to the rank of superintendent. We had bought a piece of land here in Kariba and we thought of using it as a guest lodge after carefully thinking about the potential opportunities in the hospitality industry here.”
If starting her business was tough; deciding to retire from the police force was more difficult.
“I retired on October 21, 2002 after making one of the toughest decisions of my life. But I had to decide after considering that if you run your own business full time, it is always better. Frankly speaking, I never thought I would be able to run a business as I always thought it was good just to be employed but today I now know that it can be done because I have done it.”
It was one of many tough decisions along a hard road but Mazvidza is not looking back.

Patricia-2-

No Roadblock Can Stop This Business

As a fellow human being, I hated watching President Robert Mugabe shuffle to the umpteenth world stage for his umpteenth appearance in his 94th year. It seemed to take an age for the ruler of Zimbabwe, for more than 37 years, to struggle to his seat; it looked painful.
In my mind was the President Mugabe, then 72, who bristled physically and verbally in a tough interview I held him to at State House, in Harare, in 1994, when Zimbabwe had a thriving  economy. On that long sunny autumn day he had the clipped eloquence and mental agility of a university professor. Even as an open-minded new arrival, it was clear he was spinning his answers to questions about the economy and opposition, but at least he did it with polish and a dash of mischief.
“Who told you that?” he asked professorially whenever I caught him out.
<div id="attachment_31381" style="width: 1034px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31381" class="wp-image-31381 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/GettyImages-631829258-1024x683.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="683" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/GettyImages-631829258.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/GettyImages-631829258-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/GettyImages-631829258-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/GettyImages-631829258-768x512.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />US actor Forest Whitaker (R) delivers a speech, flanked by Chairperson of the Schwab Foundation Hilde Schwab, during the Crystal Award ceremony on the eve of the opening day of the World Economic Forum, on January 16, 2017 in Davos.</div>
For a moment forget the criticism surrounding Mugabe; here was an elder of Africa, who spent 10 years in prison, dropping off now and again, before a thin crowd at WEF Africa on an early panel on fragile states.
First question: did he consider troubled Zimbabwe a fragile state? Mugabe mentioned his country’s vast resources, 14 universities and a 90% literacy rate.
“Zimbabwe is one of the most highly developed countries in Africa… We are not a poor country, you can’t call us fragile, I can call America a fragile state,” says Mugabe to chuckles from the audience.
“And yet my people back home are crying!” says one of the hundreds of Zimbabweans working in Johannesburg’s petrol stations when we discussed the story a few days later.
Mugabe blamed rival political groups for conflict in his country and had sharp words for Islamic states.
“If you look into the Islamic world and talk about Isis and various other groups, it will appear the belief is the more violence you inflict on the population the greater the people will listen to you and join your side. That is a dangerous one and I do not know how it is still to be remedied.”
At the other end of the age spectrum was idealistic fellow panellist 35-year-old Victor Ochen, the youngest African nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. The former cobbler and charcoal burner grew up amid war in Lira, in northern Uganda, a fiefdom of the rebel Lord’s Resistance Army.  In FORBES AFRICA, in April 2015, the year he was nominated, Ochen told us how he wept and threw stones at soldiers as they tore up charcoal beds that he hoped were going to pay for his education. The shocked guerrillas let him live to speak truth to power at WEF Africa 2017.
“When young people complain it is called a protest; when leaders speak it is called an excuse,” he says.
<div id="attachment_31380" style="width: 1034px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31380" class="wp-image-31380 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HMcClintock_VU0D13181-1024x682.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="682" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HMcClintock_VU0D13181.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HMcClintock_VU0D13181-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HMcClintock_VU0D13181-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HMcClintock_VU0D13181-768x512.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />Victor Ochen</div>
“Every year, hundreds of Africans die in the Mediterranean Sea trying to escape Africa. Why do they leave, what is wrong? It is because of the lack of integrity of power.”
Sharing the stage was Hollywood star Forest Whitaker, a UNESCO Special Envoy for Peace and Reconciliation,  who played former Uganda President Idi Amin in the 2006 film The Last King of Scotland. Unlike other Hollywood stars, he helps African children on the ground, rather than adopt them.
“The people of South Sudan are resilient, they want to stay in their country, they don’t want to leave but they are forced to leave their crops because of the conflict.”
Whitaker, born in Texas and bred in California, has been working quietly in the dust of warring South Sudan where 50,000 have been killed and more than half the people have no food. No one knows him there, he says, which helps in his work. This includes helping child soldiers lay down their weapons, giving them a sense of purpose, by teaching them how to deal with conflict instead of perpetuating it.
“The youth are now negotiating conflicts in their communities. They are dealing with everything from negotiating with the army to stolen cattle,” says Whitaker.
Many African leaders could do well to listen to the passionate voices of Ochen and Whitaker.

Robert Gabriel Mugabe

The Pain Of Mugabe

It is a hot, windy summer’s day in Road Port, Harare. A Coca-Cola can blows merrily down the street. The can has freedom many others here envy. This place is seized by an oppressive gloom. 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 new bond notes are pawns that can be sacrificed.
“The bond notes came recently and we are business people so we have already seen an opportunity to make a bit of money. We don’t see bond notes as having any sort of value, if you have 100 bond notes, I will give you US$70,” says Tapiwa Makoni, an informal money trader.
The Reserve Bank may say bond notes are 1:1 to the US dollar; the free market says no.
“People are already getting desperate for US dollars, especially when they are traveling out of the country. They are happy to get any real currency from us at whatever rate,” he says.
It all began in May, when the Reserve Bank Governor, John Mangudya, announced the bond note. Mangudya argued the notes would ease the cash crisis that saw the US dollar become scarce. It was going to come in gradually.
“The Reserve Bank has established a US$200 million foreign exchange and export incentive facility which is supported by the African Export-Import Bank to provide cushion on the high demand for foreign exchange and to provide an incentive facility of 5 percent on all foreign exchange receipts, including tobacco and gold sale proceeds,” says Mangudya.
The bond notes don’t seem to be helping much; as they too are restricted. The withdrawal limit of bond notes is $50 per day and a $150 per week.
Despite the introduction of the bond notes – that were touted by authorities as a solution to the liquidity crisis – there seems to be little improvement.
“There is a shortage of bond notes and there seems to be less US dollars on the streets. We used to get US$100 a day, but now my bank gave me only US$50 and 25 bond notes. The money is not enough because I need cash for my buying and selling business,” says a Harare trader who refused to be named.
Neville Mandimika, Africa Strategist at Rand Merchant Bank, says the bond notes are non-convertible.
“It is by decree that it is 1:1. The problem we are facing now is that because of the misunderstanding, fear and mistrust currently circulating in the economy, the US dollar is beginning to trade against itself because actual cash is more valuable than money in the bank because of the cash shortages. So [1:1] is of theoretical value but on the street, the market is saying otherwise,” says Mandimika.
According to Mandimika, the panic and kneejerk reaction has seen people holding on to their US dollars and moving it out of the country, which mitigates against the cash crisis being eased.
“That’s why the campaign by the authorities has been to reassure the market that this is not a fully-fledged return of the Zimbabwe dollar… The bond notes will spur inflation but not hyperinflation; at least we are not there yet… Everyone is trying to adjust.”
People have to adjust to it. If you have banked money in US dollars, you may get it in bond notes. This is not a currency and can’t be traded for another currency. Mandimika says Zimbabwe is likely to continue decelerating on a multi-quarter basis because of the debilitating liquidity crisis that continues to grip it.
“The continuation of the liquidity crunch has fueled the rise of the parallel market (US dollars are trading at a premium to the bond notes) which will likely add to the inflationary pressures. Although the latest inflation prints (November 2016), shows the year-on-year figure is still negative but month-on-month numbers suggests renewed inflationary pressure. This will likely be the trend for this year in the absence of a more permanent solution to the liquidity crisis,” he says.
It means the bond notes have been met with mounting anger and questions of legality. The city is full of protest banners mounted on brick walls, advertising billboards have #NoToBondNotes plastered all over them. Peaceful protesters are thrown into jail. One of them was Fadzayi Mahere, an advocate of the High Court and Supreme Court of Zimbabwe.
“Peaceful demonstrations are a constitutional right under Section 59. A demonstration had been organized by another entity, we believed in the cause. Unfortunately the organizers got abducted so the demonstration couldn’t happen,” says Mahere.
Once Mahere and her friends got news of the abduction, they decided to sit peacefully in the park. A handful of police came and ordered her and seven others into police vehicles.
“[Our rights weren’t read to us] in fact, we weren’t informed of the charges we were facing at that time. As citizens we are required by the law not to resist arrest so we went with them to the police station&#8230; We weren’t told about what charges we were facing until later on in the evening. We were asked to pay an admission of guilt fine and as a matter of principle, I was not prepared to admit guilt… the charges we were faced with were unfounded and trumped up,” says Mahere.
This meant spending the night in a filthy cell at the Harare Central Police Station. The tiny cell is cold and dark. There are no mattresses and blankets are infested with insects. The toilet is broken and water and urine floods the floor where some have to sleep, and no sanitary towels available.
“This is degrading to anyone. No one should be subjected to such conditions, even if you are held in cells pending trial. It was a long night. I am grateful I was in a group so there were moments of humour,” she says.
Mahere says, as unlawful as their arrest was, so are the bond notes. She says the term “bond note” is not defined anywhere in the Reserve Bank Act or the Banking Act.
“Bond note is not a term of conventional economics but an invention on the part of the Governor. It is clear that the law does not empower the Governor to create this, with respect, fictitious money,” says Mahere.
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However, Patrick Chinamasa, Minister of Finance and Economic Development, argues, in a statement, that under existing legislation, the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe has the power to issue bond notes.
“I need to highlight that under existing legislation the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe has power to issue Bond Notes in terms of the provisions of Section 7 of the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe Act Chapter (22:15). The Export Incentive Scheme could also have been introduced through Section 2 of the Exchange Control Act (Chapter 22:05) which empowers the President to make regulations relating directly or indirectly to exchange transactions and the control of imports into and exports from Zimbabwe, and payments,” says Chinamasa.
Mahere, however, argues that the Reserve Bank Act authorizes issuing Reserve Bank vouchers, not bond notes, when there is a shortage of currency of any denomination to pay civil servants or employees of the state.
“The shortage must be shown to require urgent action in the interests of public order or the economic interests of the state. The justification given by the Governor for the creation of bond notes is, therefore, inconsistent with section 42B of the Reserve Bank Act. The Governor’s justification for the curious move relates to foreign exchange stabilization and an unsatisfactory attempt to ease the cash crisis.”
“Within a few months, because we are such an import driven economy, when people are trying to replenish their stock, we will see what happens, we will see what our government does when it has the scope of printing money. We have seen that in 2008,” she says.
Mahere adds that her problem is not the bond note itself but the refusal by government to address issues at their root and attend to the fundamental causes to economic problems in Zimbabwe.
According to the Reserve Bank, the Retailers Association of Zimbabwe, fuel companies, representatives of the various business associations and the Consumer Council of Zimbabwe agreed on the use of bond notes as a medium of exchange in the country. Most traders are accepting the bond notes but worry about their future.
“I hope this will not be a repeat of 2008 where government will start printing money that is actually worthless. I have to buy my stock in South Africa because no company makes the hardware I sell here. I heard some petrol stations are already rejecting it,” says Clive Moyo, a cabinet and coffin handle trader.
The argument goes on. What is clear is people are buying and selling pieces of paper they aren’t sure about.

It Is Bond Belief

Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, “I am not interested in picking up crumbs of compassion thrown from the table of someone who considers himself my master. I want the full menu of rights.”
This sentiment might not be far off for 2010 Tutu Fellow, Zimbabwe-born Jacqueline Chimhanzi.
She did her PhD in Strategic Marketing at the Cardiff Business School in the United Kingdom, and now, added on her work portfolio, Chimhanzi has recently been appointed the Chief Executive Officer of the African Leadership Institute (AFLI), after being on the institute’s board of directors for six years.
“Every day feels like I am waking up to my calling,” says Chimhanzi, describing what it’s been like settling in her job.
Formerly the Senior Strategist at Industrial Development Corporation (IDC), Chimhanzi was recognized by FORBES as one of the 20 Youngest Power Women in Africa, who are shaping the narrative for the continent’s growth, in 2012.
It was when she was part of the Tutu Fellowship Program that her career started to focus more on Africa and she decided to play a role in making the continent a better place.
“The program helps you notice the difference you can make,” she says.
Making a difference became her mandate wherever she worked after the fellowship. The budding photographer worked as Lead: Africa Desk at Deloitte South Africa.
“I raised my hand with the Africa Desk venture and part of [any] career progression, especially for women, is to raise your hand in any given opportunity,” she says.
Part of her vision is to see the infrastructure gap on the continent closed and Africans investing in Africa, especially in women, who she says benefit the least when it comes to business and funding opportunities.
To see this materialize, Chimhanzi, with the support of Graça Machel, founded New Faces New Voices in 2010. It is a pan-African platform which focuses on expanding the role and influence of women in the financial sector.
Chimhanzi says some of the challenges unsettling investors are policies in various African countries and the slow pace of implementing concepts.
“We need an app that connects funders and projects because there is an information asymmetry in the market gap in our continent. Another challenge in the rest of the continent is that capital markets are very shallow, most banks lend in the short-term and interest rates are very high,” she says.
However, it is not all doom and gloom. Chimhanzi is optimistic about young Africans making their mark on the continent. She says leaders need to “draw on the talents and experiences from the youth in order to co-create solutions”.
Chimhanzi also wishes to see Africa transform into the self-sustainable continent she believes it can be.
With someone like Chimhanzi steering the wheel, Africa has a bright future.

Jack-023

A New Voice  For A New Africa

South African cricket legend Makhaya Ntini believes racial quotas in the country’s cricket are “long overdue” and hopes to play the mentor’s role for up-and-coming black players to ease their transition into the international game.
Known as ‘The Mdingi Express’, Ntini was one of the finest fast bowlers of his generation, taking 390 test wickets in 101 matches, behind only Shaun Pollock (421) and Dale Steyn (416 and counting) on South Africa’s all-time list.
But now in a new phase of his life post-retirement, he is searching for ways to give back to the game and feels he has an almost unique role that he can play in the complex South African fold.
“I have always seen cricket as a fun game, something to be enjoyed before anything else,” Ntini tells FORBES AFRICA from Harare, where he has been helping Zimbabwe Cricket as acting coach of their senior national team.
“But it has also become an opportunity for young rural boys like myself to build a career and create opportunities for themselves that they might not find elsewhere. That is something we must take very seriously.”
<div id="attachment_5442" style="width: 213px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-5442" class="size-medium wp-image-5442" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/000_Par3701327-203x300.jpg" alt="" width="203" height="300" />South African cricketer Makhaya Ntini gestures after the Twenty20 match between India and South Africa at the Moses Mabhida Stadium in Durban on January 9, 2011. The match marked the last international appearance of South African fast bowler Ntini, who got a rousing reception from a crowd of about 47,000 but conceded 46 runs off four overs without taking a wicket. AFP PHOTO / ALEXANDER JOE / AFP PHOTO / ALEXANDER JOE</div>
“I used to play Baker’s Mini-Cricket as a boy because it was something new, we never knew the game before it was introduced into the rural areas by [former Cricket South Africa president] Ali Bacher and [administrator] Khaya Majola.”
“The sport was not played in school; we had no television to see it. It was not a game that was part of us. But when given the opportunity to play, it was new, it was exciting.
“There were a few role-models that we could really look up to though. Omar Henry was there when we returned to international cricket in 1991, and he was a wonderful player. Obviously there were wonderful cricketers out there playing, but we did not get to see them.”
Ntini says he feels that had official quotas been introduced at the time he was starting out with the national team, the Proteas would have had a wider pool of players to choose from and been stronger for it.
Cricket South Africa (CSA) has recently announced that an average minimum of six black players, of which two must be black African, will be selected for matches across all three formats of the game over a season.
This is in keeping with a decision years ago to enforce the same quotas at provincial level.
“From my take, it has been long overdue,” says Ntini. “If it had happened at the time of myself, Monde Zondeki, Victor Mpitsang, Garnett Kruger, Geoffrey Toyana, our cricket would have never have gone through the troubles it has.”
“The talent was there, but the quotas were only in the schools and provincial sides.”
“The likes of myself, Herschelle Gibbs, Ashwell Prince and Paul Adams – we had to work harder than anybody else to get recognized. We had to perform in every game to stick around [in the team].”
“We could not have a ‘bad day in the office’ like many other players or suddenly we would be under big pressure. We were looked at in a very different way.”
“I had to wait four years to play in England. I kept being told by [former captain] Hansie Cronje and [ex-coach] Bob Woolmer, ‘you are on a learning curve, you must wait for your chance’.”
“It seemed impossible that I could take the place of an Allan Donald, Jacques Kallis, Brian McMillan, Shaun Pollock or Lance Klusener. These were great players, but I think if I was born seven years later I would have achieved a lot more in the game.”
“Because of that I think we had a responsibility to perform. We had a responsibility in how we trained, how we played, how we gathered ourselves off the field. We needed to make sure that when we went on that field, we had the tools to give our best.”
No-one in their right mind would suggest that new young firebrand fast bowler Kagiso Rabada has benefitted from the recently introduced quota system, he has let his prodigious talent do the talking. The son of a doctor and schooled at the prestigious St Stithians College, Rabada did not have any of the early disadvantages that Ntini endured as a young boy.
But the latter insists he still needs to be mentored and guided along the way.
“He has chosen a narrow road as a career, but he has a wonderful family around him to ensure he does not get big-headed and to offer guidance. He keeps himself grounded,” says Ntini.
“But I can see he is hungry to achieve more than what I did and is not satisfied with what he has done already. He looks as though he is challenging himself all the time.”
But Ntini cautions that international sport is an unforgiving place and says he will always be a sympathetic shoulder for Rabada or any other cricketers making their way in the game, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds.
“Sometimes they need people to sit them down and talk to them as brothers,” Ntini says. “I have realized that we lack that in our coaches. They can teach everything about cricket, but our brothers do not have someone that they can easily open up to with their struggles off the pitch.”
“I feel like I can offer advice, because these things can have a major impact on your career. We have coaches to teach cricket, but when the player is off the pitch and in his hotel room, they don’t have people to knock on the door to see how they are doing.”
“Can I open up to an [captain] AB de Villiers as a black cricketer and say, ‘I am struggling with this or that, my girlfriend has just left me, I am going through a divorce’, things like that which have a huge impact on a person?”
“AB will not be able to guide them, I don’t think, but I feel like I can be that person with all that I have been through. If I had the opportunity to be involved on that level, I would jump at it because I see it as a way of giving back to the game and to South African cricket.”
Ntini says he has enjoyed his stint with Zimbabwe Cricket, even if the side did receive some criticism during his tenure for crushing losses to India and New Zealand.
It is, perhaps, unfair to lay the blame for those defeats at the door of Ntini given how little cricket the Zimbabwe national teams plays. Whatever the result, he continues to flash his trademark smile.
“Enjoyment is an understatement, I am loving it [coaching],” he says. “I put my whole heart into it. Look at Zimbabwe cricket and cricketers, how much they have changed from where they were since I got here.”
“They tend to enjoy themselves now, they open up to us, they have the freedom of being able to be you, not the restriction of trying to impress me.”
But he says his heart remains in South Africa and if the right opportunity came to return home, he would jump at it.
“South Africa is my country, I will never run away,” he says.

The Role Model Waiting For A Role

There are times in this wonderful, wearying, job when you have to pinch yourself to check whether you are dreaming. That was how I felt on a sweaty and violent summer afternoon in Zimbabwe, in 1997, when people fought with police, threw up barricades across the streets of Harare, smashed shops and set fire to anything they could get their hands on. Not too dissimilar from the protests rocking the capital in 2016; different times, same complaints.
I was standing in the middle of it all doing my so called piece-to-camera for the television camera – without which the viewers will never believe you were actually there. In the corner of my eye I noticed a tall man with a thick black beard; he looked at me, raised his right fist to his mouth in the manner of a nervous cough and stood, almost to attention, patiently as if he were waiting to see the doctor. This man, I learned moments later, was Joseph Chinotimba, one of the leaders of the country’s war veterans and latterly a Member of Parliament. Now, the war veterans were those who carried guns and threw grenades in the struggle to create a majority-ruled Zimbabwe.
“Mr Bishop, the war veterans are holding a protest at State House on Tuesday, would you like to come?” as if it were an invitation for tea and cucumber sandwiches. I pinched myself twice.
There was no china cups and gentle chat on that Tuesday. To say the least, the war veterans were a tough and fearsome crowd that could turn medicine sick. Many emerged from the bush stronger and fitter; I met scores of them in the bars of Harare, in government and business, who enjoyed the fruits of their hard-won freedom. Many others were scarred for life by the war; others scarred, more deeply, in the soul through years of callous killing and random dying.
So it was a rough crowd that laid siege to State House demanding to speak to President Robert Mugabe. There were about two dozen former guerrilla fighters gathered; you could tell most didn’t have two cents to rub together. The angry chant of liberation songs were now directed at those they had fought to put in power. President Mugabe wasn’t in; he was away on a foreign trip so the war veterans demanded to see the next most senior leader of Zanu-PF.
Out of the gate came the portly figure of the then Minister of Justice Emmerson Mnangagwa resplendent in an expensive grey suit, looking confident like he was walking up to the podium at a political rally.
“Pamberi ne Zanu (forward with Zanu),” says Mnangagwa, raising his right clenched fist above his head, with his chin up, waiting for the loyal response. Back came vitriol.
“Ah, voetsek iwe (go away, you),” was one of the more polite responses.
Mnangagwa’s face was a picture; a mixture of shock and disbelief that the party faithful could show such anger and disdain to their beloved leaders. It was as if he had heard a dog reciting poetry. He shuffled back into State House without a word.
It didn’t take long for the penny to drop, literally. Days later the news filtered out of State House that 50,000 war veterans were to be given compensation payments of about $4,000 each. The payments contributed to the famous currency plunge leading to the death of the Zimbabwean dollar; many of the taxpayers, who footed the bill, were bitter.
I met a former teacher at a gathering days later who told me a story how one of the guerrilla fighters waylaid him on the way home from a country school in the 1970s. The fighter asked him to buy 30 pairs of training shoes for his platoon in the bush. The teacher, who supported the struggle, spent every penny of his monthly pay buying the shoes.
“After I gave him the shoes he took my watch too!” said the outraged former pedagogue.
“I was fed up, I had spent every penny of my pay and now they want four thousand dollars as well.”
Overnight the war veterans became the faithful, snarling, dogs of Zanu-PF. It was they who led the bloody takeover of the farms of Zimbabwe and acted as brutal enforcers against anyone who stepped out of line.
The word from Harare, in 2016, is that these hardened war veterans have now turned against the ruling party again. Post-liberation politics can often make for uneasy, if not dangerous, bedfellows.

The Sharp Teeth Of The Dogs Of Wrath

As if Zimbabwe doesn’t have enough problems, in October the government will try what could be an ill-fated experiment of printing so-called bond notes.
It’s a reaction to the shortage of US dollars that have been legal tender in Zimbabwe since the Zimbabwean dollar disappeared. The shortage is so bad the banks are trying to ration dollars.
“I can only withdraw US$100 a day and that’s if I’m lucky. I have to wake up very early in the morning to queue, otherwise there will be no money in the ATM. If I come late I can find even 60 or so people queuing,” says Tukudzwa Mutasa, who lives in Harare.
The southern African country has been unlucky, to say the least, when it comes to currency. It printed its way into hyperinflation and even introduced bearer cheques that carried and outlived their expiry date. In 2008, it suffered catastrophic hyperinflation and even had a one hundred trillion dollar bill which could be exchanged for US$0.40. Almost 10 years later, it is worth more as a souvenir on eBay, where you can buy it for US$70.
This all led to the Zimbabwean dollar being ditched and the country adopting up to nine currencies from other countries.
The US dollar is king in Zimbabwe. In 2009, 49% of people used the US dollar, 49% used the rand and 2% used other currencies. In 2016, 95% of people use the US dollar.
The Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe (RBZ) says the stronger US dollar is encouraging traders to take the currency out of the country.
“I can’t take the rand because it is weak. I buy the things I sell in South Africa and have to factor in costs, so I would rather sell in US dollars so that I make a little bit of profit otherwise I would be wasting my time,” says informal trader Chipo Dungare, in Harare.
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Into the mix, in October, come piles upon piles of what many see as worthless paper. Zimbabwe will use the gold standard, which is a monetary system where a country’s currency or paper money has a value directly backed by gold, to print its own version of the US dollar, called bond notes. There is a guarantee of US$200 million by the African Export-Import Bank (Afreximbank) to back the bond notes. The scheme will also reward people bringing foreign currency to the country with a 5% incentive on all foreign exchange receipts.
Reserve Bank Governor, John Mangudya, says the bond notes, like the US dollar, will come in $2, $5, $10 and $20 dominations. This is unlikely to convince people to use it.
“This is a shakedown; casino economy presided over by dangerous clowns who don’t see beyond today. How can you explain repeating a failed experiment of 2008 of printing dollar signs and figures on bond paper and declare that as currency? Really? Do these people learn at all?” asks political economist, Maxwell Saungweme.
“This is the return of the Zimbabwean dollar by another name. It won’t work. It will crash on day one,” says a Harare-based analyst who chose to remain anonymous for fear of victimization.
Former Finance Minister, Tendai Biti, called citizens to anger.
“The return of the Zimbabwean dollar marks the gross admission by this regime that it has failed, and failed in absolute terms, and that it will drag everyone along in the plunge to abyss that now awaits this economy. It is a cynical, disrespectful and contemptuous move that has absolutely no logic, sense or justification on any rational ground whatsoever,” writes Biti on his Facebook page.
“Zimbabwe is effectively a supermarket economy consuming goods produced in other countries. In 2014, its exports were US$3.7 billion against imports of US$6.3 billion. 2015 was no better; exports were $3.2 billion against imports of US$6.03 billion.”
Promise Mkwananzi, Director of Zimbabwe Informal Sector’s Organisation, says this policy reveals confusion.
“The tragic result is that there is already panic and despondency in the country. This will cause an unprecedented decline in FDIs already at its all-time low. This will see the Zimbabwean economy continuing to suffer,” he says.
But the people running Zimbabwe believe there is no problem.
“The bond notes are coming no matter what because we are trying to solve a problem here. The media exaggerates what is going on here in Zimbabwe. They talk about protests but I don’t even know what they are talking about. It’s always business as usual here and often I have to see in the news that there was a protest,” says spokesperson of the office of the president, George Charamba.
Along with the RBZ and the government, the Employers’ Confederation of Zimbabwe (EMCOZ) is behind the bond notes, but it has reservations.
“The consultations before the announcement, if any, were less than inclusive and the confusion and fear that was created could have been anticipated and, to a large degree, reduced if not avoided. It would have given business the necessary confidence if it had also been announced whether this is a short, medium-term or long-term measure and the fate of the bond notes once they have served their purpose,” says EMCOZ president Josephat Kahwema.
What is certain is that in October the banks will be full of freshly printed paper. You’ll know for sure whether it’s worthless when you go to spend it.

Starting a  bon(d)fire

Trust Matsilele says writing for FORBES AFRICA changed his life. The most remarkable and harrowing story of the lot is his own.
His crisp declamatory picturesque articles, told with conviction over the last two years, were born of years of struggle, pain and disappointment from birth.
At just eight months old, his mother abandoned Matsilele and his twin brother at the door of Harare Central Police Station in Zimbabwe with nothing but a tiny bag of clothing. Luckily, within 24 hours, they were adopted by their aunt, who had just moved back to Zimbabwe, after years studying in the United States.
“My aunt had no kids, but all of a sudden, she had this heavy burden to carry,” says Matsilele.
The twins moved to their new home, a mission school in Mwenezi, a small district in southern Zimbabwe, with their new parent. They lived a middle-class life and almost forgot they had been abandoned. In 1992, their guardian moved to South Africa to work. The twins moved in with their grandmother in the village. This meant goodbye to bread and butter for lunch at school.
“My grandmother tried to make sure we had good lunchboxes when we went away for sports at school but on a day-to-day basis we struggled to carry lunch to school. We walked 10 kilometers barefoot to school and herded cattle after school,” he says.
It was a struggle until their aunt started making a bit of money in South Africa. In 1996, she sent the boys to boarding school where Matsilele traveled in a bus for the first time.
“I was in the drama club and we went in a bus to Masvingo and I was so happy. School was OK but I couldn’t afford somethings like freezit (sweet ice) so I washed clothes for kids from urban areas, who came from better backgrounds, to make money. It was hard. I could see my poverty clearly. I remember my brother and I at some point wishing we went to a poorer high school, with kids like us, but my aunt had done the best she could so we were grateful.”
Matsilele left high school to set foot in his capital, Harare, a bustling city, for the first time. It was a painful reminder of a place where his mother abandoned him, but also a chance to study journalism; paid for by his brother.
Here, 19-year-old Matsilele saw a traffic light for the first time.
“As much as I was aware of their existence, I had never seen them. It was all shocking for me. My brother struggled to pay my fees so I had to work during the day and take classes at night. It was hard to make ends meet. Even money for a taxi to work was hard to get. I remember one of my classmates religiously brought a pie for me. Sometimes even if I was struggling to go to school, I would remember the pie I would get and I would make my way there.”
Hard work, on a pie a day, earned Matsilele a diploma in journalism. He moved to South Africa thinking it would be easy to get a job. It wasn’t.  South Africa has a 25.5% unemployment rate and with 2.2 million immigrants looking for work.
No job, no money, no food and no roof, Matsilele hit rock bottom in a country he thought was paved with gold; to find home was a dumpsite. He lived there for four months picking up scrap metal and bricks to sell.
“We used some rags and plastics to cover ourselves if it was raining or cold. Police came to harass us at any time of the day. I remember it rained one night and my passport was in my pocket and it got defaced,” he says.
Life on the harsh streets of South Africa was dangerous, so Matsilele moved to a squatter camp to live with his cousin.
“We would walk for about two hours to look for jobs on the streets. Any jobs, like cutting lawns or general work. I did that for two years just to have a bit of money.”
Matsilele’s nephew, who worked for The Zimbabwean newspaper, based in Johannesburg, showed him a glimmer of hope and invited him to his office to talk about a job.
“When I got there he had gone for a conference and the people at the office refused me entry. I think I was too scruffy or dirty and looked like a street kid,” he says.
A week later, he went back and the nephew employed him.
“To get meaningful money for someone staying in a squatter camp, about R1,000 ($70) a month, was hard but I was writing about 40 articles a month at R40 (less than $3) a story.”
This resilience marked his entry to the world of journalism.
“I moved to a small place with a friend of mine and together we bought our first bed. This was a huge adjustment coming out of a squatter camp. We had never owned a bed,” he says.
Another friend offered to help pay for Matsilele’s honours degree in journalism, at the University of the Witwatersrand, to better his chances in life.
His honours supervisor recruited him for a job at CNBC Africa, the sister company to FORBES AFRICA, as an online journalist. Here, he met Chris Bishop, Managing Editor of FORBES AFRICA, and he says this changed his life.
“Bishop is one of the best people I have ever met. He has stayed a bit in Zimbabwe so when he heard I was Zimbabwean, we immediately connected… I asked if I could write for FORBES AFRICA and he said ‘yes’… I couldn’t believe it. A man like me who was abandoned by his mother and stayed on the streets being allowed to write for such a publication? Who would have ever thought? It was even beyond my wildest dreams.”
Working here opened doors for Matsilele, one of them— speaking at a conference at the University of Southern California in the United States in 2015.
Three years later, Matsilele walks upright, looks people in the eye and debates with conviction. He says working for this publication has helped him shake off his terrible feeling of being a nobody in a rural village who became a street kid in a foreign land.
Just over a decade after he slept under the stars in the rubbish tip, Matsilele is now studying classics in Vancouver, Canada, for the next three years.
A few months after leaving South Africa, Matsilele has been invited to give talks about his work for FORBES AFRICA.
“My presentations are based on my work at FORBES AFRICA and with Chris Bishop. It was like learning journalism from scratch even though I had written more than 300 stories. If there is anything FORBES AFRICA should be grateful for its having changed the life of a journalist,” he says.
Matsilele is living proof that hard work in Africa, sprinkled with a bit of FORBES AFRICA, can change your life.

‘It Was Beyond  My Wildest Dreams’

It’s a story as ripe and rare as vintage wine, also an unlikely story of an entrepreneur who spent most of his life without laying eyes on a vineyard, but now he owns one.
He grew up among poor farmers in Zimbabwe’s dry province of Masvingo. This is the life and times of Tongai Joseph Dhafana, a Zimbabwean winemaker.
“My parents farmed to pay my school fees. After I completed my ordinary levels I moved to Gweru to work at Sino-Zimbabwe Cement Company,” says Dhafana.
“My first salary in Zimbabwe was 1,099 Zimbabwean dollars but by the time I left in 2009, it was in millions,” he says of his country’s decline.
His rise was difficult and often he felt as crushed as his grapes.
“I relocated to South Africa in 2009. I stayed at Musina refugee camp for two weeks looking for documents that would ease my travel. In Johannesburg I stayed at the Central Methodist Church.”
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The Central Methodist Church in central Johannesburg is famous for sheltering refugees. The church opened its doors under the leadership of Bishop Paul Verryn during the xenophobic violence of 2010. It was one of the few refuges from violent mobs roaming the streets looking for Africans from other countries.
Like many in the church, he came up with a quick idea to get out. His destiny lay in Cape Town, a place that would teach him the trade and thrust him into the global stage on his way to becoming a millionaire and a bon viveur.
“In Cape Town I worked as a gardener and was promoted to washing dishes and soon became a bartender. It is in the bar that I would taste my first glass of wine on my birthday.”
This sip of wine was the foretaste of a new life.
“Seeing smiling faces sharing a bottle of wine triggered my curiosity and interest to explore the miracle of wine,” he says.
“Other than smiling faces, I was also fascinated by the vine and the journey the grapes travelled from the winelands to some of the most expensive hotels across the world.”
In 2015, he entered a wine competition that would transform the unknown Zimbabwean into a wine ambassador of Africa’s most industrialized economy.
Dhafana was part of Team SA, which won the 2015 South African Wine Tasting Championships, and travelled to France to compete in the World Blind Tasting Challenge.
“I competed in the blind wine tasting competition with 200 others and booked a spot in the top 20 at Taj hotel in Cape Town. In the finals, I was in top three which secured my ticket to France for the world blind wine tasting championships. We came 12th out of 20, the best result South Africa has ever scored,” he says.
Now he has his own company, Mosi, which make the Mosi Rouge and Fraternity. His wines are sold in Sweden and the United Kingdom. The name Mosi is derived from his home country’s Mosi-oa-Tunya waterfalls – meaning the smoke that thunders – the original name of Victoria Falls.
He has also gone to school to improve his knowledge of winemaking.
“I am balancing my studies with my business. I thought I had found wine when I started the business of wines and with each day I am realizing that wine found me.”
The optimism that took him from his home of Chirumhanzu, one of Zimbabwe’s forgotten districts, is still with him as he looks to a future of wine and millions.
“Our prospects are very positive, and for the 2017 vintage, we are estimating numbers in the region of 10,000 bottles.”
A single google search for his name will take you to a number of wine websites demonstrating his growing influence.
His success has not alienated him from his countrymen who are also seeking fortune in South Africa. The Zimbabwean community in South Africa recently honored his toil with an upcoming entrepreneurship award.
His passion stretches to his closing signature of his email: “In water you see your own reflection; in wine you see the heart of another”.
In an industry dominated by white males and household names, this means a lot for a former refugee who once looked into water and saw only despair.

The Refugee Turned Winemaker

It’s easy to momentarily forget about the company closures, job losses and business failures that have become all too common in Zimbabwe in the past few years when you look at the entrepreneurial success of Zimbabwean pastor, Shingi Munyeza.
Gifted with a passion for the services industry, Munyeza has shuttled from being the biggest investor in African Sun – the largest hospitality group in the country – to a new franchised restaurant venture that is thriving.
His choice to sell his stake in African Sun may appear to lack logic, especially considering that he was chief executive officer of the hotels venture for 13 years.
“There are three reasons why I exited African Sun, namely to allow for a new anchor shareholder who had deeper pockets to both invest in the company and expand the business – I did not have such deep pockets – and to allow a new management team to bring fresh ideas,” says Munyeza.
But it is the third reason that really compelled him to exit the business that runs hotels including Crowne Plaza, Holiday Inn and the iconic Elephant Hills Resort in Victoria Falls.
“I wanted to pursue other entrepreneurial opportunities without the limitations of a corporate office, hence why I started the current ventures and more to come.”
The idea to move into the franchised restaurant industry sprouted in Munyeza’s mind in 2008 “after seeing a niche market in this sector of hospitality” when he was still CEO of African Sun. This led to the creation in 2013 of franchised restaurant units under regional and international brands such as Mugg &amp; Bean and News Cafe.
“I funded the initial stores from personal equity and then brought in two regional banks to co-fund this through debt instruments. In total, we now have nine outlets and are working on another three over the next 12 months,” says Munyeza.
This area represents a niche market for Munyeza and he says this is for the high-end market that has been exposed to these brands in other countries, such as South Africa. The approach is to have “regional and global standards and to ensure that these are maintained at all costs”.
Munyeza appears to have done his homework and many reckon that his efforts have been aided by his vast experience in the industry.
“My worst day was my best day since I started these ventures in food franchises. It was on November 3, 2013, when we opened our first franchised store, Mugg &amp; Bean. We had such an overwhelming response from the market that we ended up closing the shop because we could not cope.”
“The worst part was we failed to deliver to customer expectation because we underestimated the demand from the market on both our service and product. It was the best day because without any above-the-line advertising the shop was continuously busy from morning ‘til we had to close at 4PM, when we should have closed at 10PM,” he says.
But being a Christian businessman, whose ventures count alcohol among the products offered, has led to critics saying his business goes against Christian principles. He, however, shrugs off the criticism, saying the business is for the greater good of the community as it employs people and offers services that are required by society.
Since he is a man of the cloth, he must know the passage in the Bible where Jesus admonishes a rich young ruler, telling his disciples: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.”
“It is very possible for a rich man to enter heaven. The point is always the love of money which hinders people to heaven. Money must always resource the purpose that God gave you and in itself must never be the purpose that God gave you,” says Munyeza.
He gives examples of some of the richest men in the bible, including Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, David, Solomon, Joseph of Arimathea, as well as some the disciples during Jesus’ time. He believes that he has been predestined to be both an entrepreneur and an evangelist.
But he has not been spared the struggles of any other entrepreneur and this includes the economic hardships in Zimbabwe. But, he believes that entrepreneurs are born to emerge out of difficult situations and he explains that he has failed more than he has been successful in his entrepreneurial life.
“I have failed seven times out of the 10 times I have tried to get into ventures. I’ve always had the faith and hope to get up and try again,” says Munyeza.
At the start of each day, Munyeza reads from the Bible and prays before reviewing the previous day’s sales reports. He then moves on to digest and watch news headlines before sitting in meetings. “From there on it becomes a fight in the jungle,” he says.
It’s a fight he seems to be winning.

It Is Easy For A Rich Man To Enter Heaven After All

During the week, if you drive around what was once Zimbabwe’s industrial hub, Bulawayo, the factories are dead; on Sundays, they come alive with the sounds of worship.
According to reports, in the last 10 years, around 100 factories have shut their doors and laid off staff. They are being rented by churches as it appears religion is the only boom in town.
“Most of the factories here don’t operate anymore. You will find that the only thing the company has left here is the building itself and they need to make a bit of money. Our factory, for example, was vacant for a very long time. It only made sense to rent it out to someone who needed it and there is nothing we can do about it until the industries can be revived,” says the former buildings manager who asked not to be named.
The list is long.
The charismatic prophet Emmanuel Makandiwa’s United Family International (UFI) Ministries rents the city’s biggest textile factory, Textile Mills, along Josiah Chinamano Road in Belmont. Not too far away, Revelation Church of God rents a large warehouse in Kelvin, formerly the home of wholesaler Goveya Enterprises; Higher Grace International Ministries occupies a dilapidated building which used to be a motor repair shop. In the same building is one of the few survivors, a small-scale detergents manufacturer who displays his products on a slab outside and Universal Church of the Kingdom of God (UCKG) rents a building which was once an exhaust repair shop in the heart of Bulawayo.
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There are plenty of other places that have closed – Rusglen Fashions, True Value, Belmor Fashions, Lancaster, Harren Manufacturing, Cinderella, and Label Fashion.
Amid economic carnage is a company trying to pull itself up by its bootstraps. The company must be one of the few in Zimbabwe that has never retrenched people. It employs 15 people, making handmade boots for export between $299 and $999.
“We need a minimum of nine working days to make a pair of boots so each day the 30 pairs being cut are not the same 30 pairs being boxed,” says Courteney Boot Company co-founder Gale Rice.
When Rice helped form the company in 1989, selling in Zimbabwe was easy. Half their production was sold locally.
“We had a strong commercial farming sector which hosted a strong hunting community, a vibrant tourist industry and a varied local economy. Every single town had at least one stockist, whether it was the farming co-op, seed company, hardware shop or even the gardening center. Courteney was available throughout the country. Nowadays 99 percent of our production leaves the country,” says Rice.
Making boots by hand is a slow, painstaking but worthy process that makes them last longer.
“Our customers send their boots back to us from all over the world for repairs, re-soling, full refurbish. Mailing can be expensive but we pride ourselves on returning a pair of boots that look as good as new and will last for many more years. We’re old fashioned and happy to be so,” she says.
What’s the secret to keeping this small company alive when so many others are dying?
“I don’t know,” she laughs. “We’re a team that believes that no individual or enterprise escapes the bad stuff. Nobody gets off scot-free – we all have to deal with death, tragedy, business or financial reversals and so on during our journey on earth. Just crack on,” she says.
It’s not easy, but there is a reason she hangs on – family.
Her late husband, John Rice, won a worldwide design competition, at the age of 17, with his favorite design for a stitch-down shoe. Shortly after they met, in 1989, John had a dream, Gale was sold on the idea and they built a company before they were even married.
“It was a terrific adventure. Everything from buying the machinery to developing the marketing was exciting and terrifying. John once pulled out all our Christmas cards to each other and was going through them. He said to me, ‘Do you know that in every single card you’ve described the past year as difficult?’” recalls Gale.
By that time, John had already been in the footwear industry for 37 years as a designer and manufacturer. The business, in the early days, relied on the hunting and safari industries.
“John always said that men admire what other men have, whether it’s a knife or a watch or a pair of boots,” says Gale.
They slowly established a strong American following; then after a few years, they got a strong British link. Westley Richards, a 204-year-old leading gun and rifle manufacturer based in Birmingham, England, asked if they could stock and distribute for Courteney.
John and Gale were delighted.
“Courteney was the biggest part of our marriage and working together was deeply fulfilling. We never, ever ran out of conversation – we’d sit in the bath nattering away and we’d have sore throats after a long journey in the car. I look back now and see even more clearly how incredibly lucky I was to have such an adventurous husband, and how fortunate I am now to have my life still filled with Courteney and all its joys and challenges.”
Despite the success, it was difficult to keep the doors open as Zimbabwe’s economy struggled. It was difficult to export from Zimbabwe.
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“[Goods] were backed up at Harare airport waiting for a plane, but almost no carriers were flying in at that time. John and I went to South Africa to the shoemaking industry centered in Durban and Pinetown and visited several stitch-down manufacturers to find a temporary home for our production.”
When things settled a bit, they came back to Bulawayo. Also known as the City of Kings, it is no longer fit for kings.
“The profit margins have gone down significantly because of the high costs of production – electricity, labor, raws – and just the business of doing business in Zimbabwe. There is little consistency in pricing in the country at present,” she says.
Rice says because they manufacture only in legally obtained game-skin leathers, Courteney may be directly affected if Zimbabwe loses its hunting industry. They are also in danger of losing the company altogether under the intense scrutiny of foreign countries, spurred on by the anti-hunting organizations.
“The Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Authority needs to be squeaky clean and in full control of our wildlife and hunting quotas. It’s worth noting that it’s the hunting industry that funds anti-poaching operations in our conservancies. About a decade ago, the Authority had its budget rescinded leaving them to source their own income. One tiny result of this is that parks demand two percent of the value of every invoice to provide a CITES permit for every export. It’s an unnecessary duty to impose on our customers, and very annoying,” she says.
Rice is in Bulawayo to stay and she is not about to turn the factory over to Sunday worship.

Boots And Praises

Three thousand people camped outside a courthouse for a man they didn’t know until the day before.
He arrived at court at 11:20AM in a white Toyota Corolla with tinted windows. At 1PM, the investigating officer said he forgot to bring the affidavit for the case and had to fetch it. This delayed arguments.
Crowds covered all three exits of the court, vowing to stop their man from being taken away. They even stopped police, who appeared unusually tame, to search cars to check whether their man was inside.
Inside the court, was Evan Mawarire, a pastor first charged with incitement of violence and then for trying to overthrow the government. This, after months of posting social media videos criticizing the Zimbabwean government. The videos tapped into mounting anger over high unemployment and corruption which sparked rare peaceful protests against President Robert Mugabe.
Mawarire appeared in a packed Harare Magistrates’ Court, also known as Rotten Row, draped in the Zimbabwean flag after spending the night in police cells as officers searched his house, church and office. Scores of lawyers in court waved their qualifications in the air when Mawarire was asked who would be representing him.
Outside, it was like church. Pastors from different dominations led the crowd in prayer every 30 minutes as the judge heard arguments.
“All we want is Mawarire back with no scratch. Zimbabwe shall never be a colony again. He has helped us not to be afraid anymore,” says one of Mawarire’s supporters, Kenneth Handina.
People sang and danced to gospel songs, even likening Mawarire to Jesus on the cross. They also sang struggle songs such as “Senzeni na?” –“What have we done?” in isiNdebele – an anti-apartheid song.
“This is what this government does and has been known to do. They always want to make sure we live in fear and when they say jump we follow,” says jobless graduate, Vimbai Moyo.
As the sun went down, the crowd grew. Some brought food and candles.
“We have been here since morning. Even if they delay, we won’t go. If we have to sleep here we will. We are all in this together,” says another Mawarire supporter, Allan Hunter.
The lawyers argued, successfully, that the charge of subversion had been added at the last minute, denying him a fair trial.
At about 7PM, Magistrate Vakai Chikwekwe ruled that the state had broken its own law and Mawarire was free to go. The crowd erupted. There was a surge towards the main entrance of the court with the crowd singing “Ichokwadi Mwari Varipo”— “It is true, God is there” in chiShona, the tongue of Harare.
As the pastor emerged, people waved their hands in the air and jumped in celebration. They hugged, ululated and pushed towards him. Many sat around him as a sign of respect as he addressed the crowd amid flickering camera flashes. A handful climbed trees for a clearer view.
“I want to thank you, all Zimbabweans, because we are now united. May the Lord bless you all because the country you are building is for your children; let’s continue building, don’t stop. God bless you all,” says Mawarire.
As he left, people danced on the street, hooted car horns and sang. Many cursed the police for the arrest and vowed to speak up against Mugabe’s regime.
“We don’t want politicians trying to capitalize on this. It is up to us as citizens to reclaim our country from this government so we can have a better life. If the government of Zimbabwe was not threatened before, maybe now it’s time to be,” says Tinashe Gambuza.
Zimbabwe had not seen anything like this in over a decade. As we left, a group of guys danced on top of a car singing yet another struggle song, – “Get ready mama and prepare for your freedom; freedom is coming tomorrow”. With that, everybody disappeared into the cold night.

“He Has Helped Us  Not To Be Afraid Anymore”

A few months ago, he was a lone voice in the wilderness, now he is an international figure. Days after his acquittal in court, he has a campaign manager and his personal assistant tells me that for now he is not taking any calls. I speak to him in Johannesburg days later.
“I have not spoken to my parents yet due to security concerns for them. But, I know they have been praying for me. My wife was there throughout the whole court proceedings from morning to evening, fully pregnant. She is an amazing woman, I tell you,” he tells me from Johannesburg, in a visit that might last longer than his supporters want.
Evan Mawarire shot to international recognition on July 12, the day he presented himself to the police with a bible in hand and his flag around his neck. The country’s police had summoned him over a missing police helmet, a baton and suspicion of possessing subversive material.
“As we entered the cold, dark and smelly cell popularly known as ‘Baghdad’, I couldn’t help notice the brotherliness amongst the group inmates. They laughed, hit high fives and exchanged stories on what had landed them in for the first time or yet again. Nearly all the young men in the cell with me that night told me truth of their offenses. The one guy said to me ‘I deserve this and my desire is to stop stealing but I can’t boss, I don’t have a job’. Later that evening we shared some of my food that had been brought to me and he took it upon himself to ask anyone in the cell who had more than two blankets to give me one. I’ll be honest I’ve made a lot of friends in my lifetime, but that day in that cell I made some truly special friends. I met some real genuine Zimbabwean men,” says Mawarire.
The man of the cloth, who now had a blanket, was to also face charges of trying to topple his government. It all ended in acquittal and cheers at the Rotten Row magistrate’s court in Harare.
He is not the first to face such charges: Morgan Tsvangirai, Dumiso Dabengwa, Lookout Masuku and Ndabaningi Sithole, all opposition politicians, have been similarly accused down the years.
Mawarire’s crime: filming himself, using his mobile phone, complaining about his country’s malaise. The government’s only evidence, as they dragged him to court, was his posts on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. This is the story of Mawarire and his hashtag campaign #ThisFlag. In Zimbabwe, it’s risky to say the least.
Mawarire rallies hundreds of thousands of demonstrating ex-patriate Zimbabweans from Harare to London, Washington, Johannesburg and Melbourne. His words appear powerful enough to persuade citizens to shut down the country; on July 6, this turned Bulawayo and Harare into ghost towns.
On Sundays, he preaches to a congregation of 70, outside church, his sermons about politics, economy and corruption reach tens of thousands over the internet. His campaign is so powerful that the government is contemplating banning social media.
“This campaign is unique as it’s not led by politicians; it’s a campaign by ordinary citizens. We are calling for citizens to act now and act urgently, we are not going to be silenced and intimidated by the government. The call is for our government to account for and address corruption, injustice and poverty,” he says.
Mawarire, married with two children, grew up in Mazowe, 40 kilometers north of Harare, in a family of six. He studied at one of the country’s top schools, Prince Edward in Harare, before his father brought him back to the village. At 16, he was chosen as Zimbabwe’s first child president from the country’s schools.
Twenty three years later, Mawarire’s country is mired in poverty while the elite earn vast salaries; he claims billions have been lost to corruption. His campaign emerged out of frustration over scraping together school fees.
“We are completely unhappy with the situation, we have graduates who are vendors, our pensioners struggle to get their $80 out of their banks, and our best hospital goes for days without water that patients are now being asked to bring their own water,” he says.
Speaking out carries a heavy price.
“I’m definitely worried of re-arrest and I know they are trying to take me. I see danger and I fear for my life but I am more afraid of failing to explain to my children for having done nothing. Recently somebody called me and threatened to strangle me with the flag. Two government ministers have attacked me personally on social media. They are not used to citizens rising up and speaking to them.”
Jonathan Moyo, an opponent and minister in President Robert Mugabe’s cabinet, tweeted that US ambassador, Harry K. Thomas Jr, launched #ThisFlag at his residency. Mawarire and the US embassy deny this.
“The gap between real politics and cyber politics in Zimbabwe is so huge that one does not influence the other. Local politics remains the paradigm,” tweeted Moyo.
After Mawarire shut down the country Moyo had more to say.
“The notion that anyone can build Zimbabwe by shutting it down is an oxymoron,” Moyo tweeted.
“Moyo is trying to discredit the campaign by likening it to the Arab Spring. In all of my posts I made a call against violence; I know our government is well equipped to dealing with such kinds of resistance. They have accused us of being funded by the Americans, which is laughable and an indication of desperation,” says Mawarire.
#ThisFlag has shades of Baba Jukwa, the anonymous social media dissident that gave Mugabe and Zanu-PF headaches, so much so that a $300,000-reward was put on his or her head.
“I am not hiding like Baba Jukwa, I am not outside the country, people know where I live, and they know my salary.”
Editor of the Zimbabwe Independent and Chief Content Officer of Alpha Media Holdings, Dumisani Muleya, says Mawarire has rattled Mugabe’s government.
“It’s a defiance or anti-Mugabe regime campaign to rally people to fight the damaging leadership and policy failures of this government which have reduced Zimbabwe to ruins, hence panic by Zanu-PF ideologues to launch a counter. The regime is very afraid, anything can spark off an Arab Spring-like spontaneous uprising due to the explosive conditions on the ground,” says Muleya.
Bruce Mutsvairo, a social media researcher based at Northumbria University in Newcastle, England, says Africa has seen many campaigns of this nature.
“The problem is, in spite of their good intentions, most of these campaigns fall victim to clicktivism, that is to say, many people think by clicking a page, signing an online petition or producing a video on YouTube, they will achieve political change. Mawarire is encouraging a new generation of activists and citizens to speak up and that’s a good thing. But then you need someone to listen, otherwise it’s like fighting a losing battle.”
Mawarire’s campaign has seen him engaging officials, such as reserve bank governor, John Mangudya, in a bid to stop the introduction of bond notes, the first step to giving Zimbabwe back its currency. Mutsvairo believes more of that is needed if the clergyman’s campaign is to be successful.
“The real challenge is to transform remarkable online initiatives such his into offline political engagements,” he says. “No one had expected the reserve bank governor to listen to Mawarire and crew so that was quite an achievement but will he listen to Mawarire at all? Also, is anyone in Zanu-PF willing to engage Mawarire? Zanu-PF officials know the majority of people commenting online do not vote. They focus on the rural folk, most of whom have no idea who Mawarire is.”
That won’t stop Mawarire who wants to continue saying it loud and proud even if he risks going back to Bagdhad.

Tag: Zimbabwe

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