So, Hillary Clinton deems it the best political move to sack her campaign manager and replace her with a black one after losing some caucuses and primaries. Don’t know if that’s gonna help her muscle her way through to landing her the majority of the black vote, but how crude.

Speaking of muscling one’s way – have you ever noticed how most experienced drivers are extremely unkind to ‘newbies’. It’s really hard to be a learner driver on Harare’s streets. Yesterday while driving in a clearly marked learner’s vehicle together with my instructor beside me, I found myself the target for a loud honk from a silver Toyota Hilux behind us. Ok, so I had suddenly stepped on the brakes to avoid hitting the vehicle in front of me. But, like he hadn’t had to learn to drive as well as make mistakes himself? As if that wasn’t enough, no sooner had the robot turned green than the silver Hilux overtook us in such an intimidating way, almost blowing me off the road. I was quite shaken afterward. It felt almost like I had no right to be on the road, like the car I was driving was so inferior as to be a nuisance.

These days you notice similar behavior on the Zimbabwean political playing field – how ‘newbies’ are being treated. It is almost like they have no right to contest longstanding authority. They face intimidation, threats and the like. Sometimes, they are even disowned, more like discarded from their affiliated parties. I kind of feel sorry for the way Dr Makoni is being treated, simply for wanting to take a shot at leadership.

Call me a pessimist or whatever you may, but the government never ceases to amaze me each time it rolls out newer, albeit ill-thought-through measures to ease the prevailing economic crunch. As March 29th quickly approaches, it figures that the government should suddenly be so concerned about “disadvantaged, low income earners” who are failing to access basic commodities whose prices are ever escalating in shops now mostly selling imported goods.

The Minister of Industry and International trade, Mr Obert Mpofu was quoted in the Herald of 29 January, 2008 saying that the people’s shops will provide basic commodities aimed at low income earners for “it is our belief that the disadvantaged and less privileged community should access basic commodities. The shops will be useful in beating rampant price increases, shortages and monopolistic tendencies in the market.” So the government is under the illusion that everyone else who falls outside their bracket of the ‘underprivileged’ is somehow easily accessing basic goods and commodities.

From the little economics I understand, there is a shortage of basic commodities because local manufacturers are failing to produce for obvious policy and economic reasons, albeit the government would like to believe and make believe it is simple sabotage. Wouldn’t it be more practical for government to first seek to resuscitate and stimulate production that will see the locally manufactured goods come back onto the market, as well as find ways to mend the dent in foreign investor confidence? As a matter of interest, I am anxious to know where the ‘cheap’ goods that will stock up the people’s shops will come from.

Does the government honestly think the so-called pauper’s – er – people’s shops will make life any easier? You know what’s most likely to happen? More queues and more hoarding for resale (especially if the goods will be cheaper) by those with the time, ability and energy to spend a whole day in shop queues. I’ll tell you what’s more, civil servants will probably get first preference, just like what was/is happening at most bank queues. Just come in your uniform, or take out your pay slip or whatever it is they present in order to jump the queue.

Lastly, the government substantiates its new idea by conveniently mentioning the fact that the concept was taken from Angola, whose government set aside US$1,5 billion and ” has been successful in implementing the project.” People, I hate to burst your bubble but, take a look at this picture taken outside one such people’s shop then you know all is not rosy in Angola. While the long queues that have become a common sight, if not an eyesore seem to be disappearing from most banks, it seems our government really loves seeing them and cannot wait to introduce something else that will make queues re-appear.

People’s shops? What a laugh. There are some people’s shops already in this country – zhing-zhongs – which are supposed to sell the cheapest quality products but still expensive as hell. And people of all walks of life, no matter what they earn, converge there. For God’s sake, let market forces control the prices of goods. Unusually or exceptionally cheap products will only be hoarded, quickly disappearing from the shelves to reappear on the black market at inflated prices.

Last year December I had the opportunity to observe all the proceedings of the ANC’s annual conference in Polokwane, South Africa on television. Though personally not a huge fan of Mbeki, I witnessed a sad but humiliating rebellion against a president who took South Africa through a decade of solid economic growth in support of one who sincerely believes that taking a bath after having unprotected sex with an infected partner minimizes risk of infection. I’m sorry but I am one of those who will never forgive, nor forget such ignorance especially coming from one who wants to rule a people someday.

Anyway, that was not my major concern. Watching the Polokwane proceedings got me really thinking about our own upcoming March harmonized elections. I long for the day opposition/dissent or whatever else ZANU- PF calls anyone that’s not for it, will not be demonized and brutalized for having a different opinion on things or for merely existing. I long for freedom of speech and expression. I long for accountability from campaigning political candidates like what’s happening in the USA. A chance to grill would be leaders on how, why and when they plan to deal with crucial aspects bedeviling this country, ranging from an economy in chaos to the collapse of the public service delivery system.

Above all, I worry what course of action each fellow citizen will take come March. I know most bone- weary, depressed and hungry Zimbabweans occupy one of three spheres: those who are apathetic, almost to the point of indifference and will not vote in the upcoming election. Those who would rather the MDC boycott the election and let ZANU- PF go it alone because they feel the latter should not be allowed to steal another election but concede to a transitional constitution and election postponement. The last group is of individuals who, no matter how impossible any effort on their part may seem, will still play their part.

March is not so far off and it is time we each start thinking which group we are joining come March. Understandably, a majority of us are really rather preoccupied with matters of survival alone but a decision still has to be made.

Though I know that most people intend to boycott the election, I feel one should not willingly neglect one’s duty to vote, no matter how hopeless it all seems. If not just for the hell of it, I wouldn’t grant any party such an easy victory, but give them a run for it.

At the risk of almost sounding crass, I ask, why deprive ourselves of hope? We have to believe there is a way out of this mess otherwise, what’s the point? Why study, why work, why do anything if it’s all going to hell? I recall vividly the words of a mentor who said, “No matter how badly any football team performs, have you ever seen them giving up mid match and sitting down on the pitch because there is no point in continuing? No. They play to the last whistle, even if they come out with nil.”

Vaclav Havel describes Hope as not ‘the willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but, rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed . . . Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.’

I am currently reading The Impossible Will Take a Little While, a compilation of short, inspirational, anecdotal stories by Paul Rogat Loeb. In one of the stories: The Optimism of Uncertainty the author points out the deliberate metaphor; Life is a gamble. Not to play is to foreclose any chance of winning. To play, to act, is to create at least a possibility of changing the world.

He goes on to chronicle historical victories that were so unpredictable to be almost impossible:

“Who foresaw the revolution to overthrow the Tsar of Russia? Who would have predicted the bizarre shifts of World War II – the defeat of the German army with Hitler huddled in his Berlin bunker, waiting to die? And then the post war world, taking a shape no-one could have drawn in advance: the Chinese Communist revolution which Stalin himself had given little chance. In other places, deeply entrenched dictatorships seemed suddenly to disintegrate from Portugal to Iran and Iraq. The end of World War II left two super powers with their respective spheres of influence and control, vying for military and political power. The United States and the Soviet Union soon each had enough thermonuclear bombs to devastate the earth several times over. The international scene was dominated by their rivalry, and it was supposed that all affairs, in every nation, were affected by their looming presence. Yet the most striking fact about these super powers was that, despite their size, their wealth, their overwhelming accumulation of nuclear weapons, they were unable to control events, even in those parts of the world considered to be their respective spheres of influence.”

Looking at this catalog of huge surprises, it is clear that the struggle for justice should never be abandoned because of the apparent overwhelming power of those who have the guns and the money and seem invincible in their determination to hold on to it. That apparent power has again and again, proven vulnerable to human qualities less measurable than bombs and dollars: moral fervor, determination, unity, organisation, sacrifice, wit, ingenuity, courage, patience.

There is a tendency to think that what we see in the present moment will continue. We forget how often in this century we have been astonished by the sudden crumbling of institutions by extraordinary changes in people’s thoughts, by unexpected eruptions of rebellion against tyrannies, by the quick collapse of powers that seemed invincible.

Political power, however formidable, is more fragile than we think. (Note how nervous those who hold it are.)

People do not have to engage in grand, heroic actions to participate in the process of change. Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world. To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is not only one of cruelty, but sacrifice, courage and compassion.

So, should March arrive, and ZANU-PF still refuses a transitional constitution and election postponement and all the other demands we have, would you really rather sit and do nothing at all?

So, today I get to Fourth Street my usual time early in the morning on my way to work and I find a rowdy mob of people grouped where I board my commuter omnibus to Newlands. The fare is suddenly $2 million. Yesterday it was $1,5 million, and a few days before that, $1 million. Ok you might think so what, talking about the country’s problems has just become a cliche, nothing is newsworthy anymore. I tell you, witnessing a group of respectable men and women in their suits haggling with hwindis is newsworthy to me. Often, they would just meekly pay an arm and a leg to get to work and avoid the hassle. I mean, for some of us, we now fork out $8 million a day to get to and from work.

A friend of my mom’s resigned yesterday. I found the circumstances almost a tad comical. Her husband phoned her from the office of an optician where he was meant to collect a new set of spectacles for her. He told her that the cheapest, ugliest frame cost $46 million. He highlighted that her transport from Chitungwiza is $6 million daily and she is earning $50 million monthly. There was clearly no point in continuing work so he demanded she resign immediately that very day.

Well, I’m sick and tired of it all, no food, no water, no lights, no cash, and expensive transport. The list keeps growing. I live from day to day wondering what else will go wrong . . .

Last Friday I attended a post-budget (someone called it a post-mortem) meeting hosted by AMG Global at the Chapman golf club in Harare. Various stakeholders – largely private businessmen, finance directors and company MDs converged to discuss the economic implications of the budget presented by the Finance Minister, dubbed the ‘People’s Budget‘. Don’t worry about what I was doing there . . but just know I am no expert in Finance jargon and issues. Somehow, most of the budget implications escape me when they are presented first time around, till the Eric Blochs start interpreting the jargon later.

During breakfast a colleague couldn’t help but exclaim that he’d never come across a government that is so against the development of its people until he came to Zimbabwe – and this budget, with the unexplained financing of the $1,76 quadrillion deficit – was just a “way of the tomcats f-wording with us!” Frankly, it was my first time to hear the word quadrillion actually used in a sentence, let alone a national budget. A nun representing a local FBO had earlier stood up to comment on some of the government’s policies especially on import tax. That one cannot get donations of brand new things from abroad anymore, especially vehicles, or even shoes because the tax burden is so heavy you could almost ask the donor to first thoroughly use whatever they want to donate, so that it has a worn appearance when it passes through customs.

Dr Honest Zhou (UZ) who did the post-budget analysis stressed that the budget would be overtaken by inflation even before roll out and would really be lucky to survive the first six months. He also bemoaned the fact that the budget was ‘unfriendly’ as it based its hopes on the ‘rationalized’ anticipation of an unprecedented growth in agriculture and a bumper harvest.

One banker raised concerns that the budget deficit would probably be financed through just printing more money because there is no “shocking limit to what these guys are capable of doing.” With the PDL running at $23 million, the banker moaned the fact that the Finance Ministry are seemingly oblivious of other major drivers of inflation apart from declining industrial output and depreciating local currency. He suggested that “increased output calls for increased capacity utilization, and the country could do with a bit of fiscal discipline and cutting down on unnecessary government expenditure”. Speaking of which, does the president really need that long motorcade?

I was surprised to note that government also intends to place serious tax impositions on informal traders. But how do you identify who is an informal trader (and who isn’t) and tax them? I can see life slowly becoming more brutish for cross-border traders who will be easily identified in the tax net. Find a way of taxing the guys at Road Port and I will call you a genius, better yet, give you a standing ovation. Some people just wont stop ‘f- wording’ with us for sure.

Residents at the garden flats where I stay are undecided whether or not to be angry with the little old Italian lady who stays by herself in one of the flats. Every time water comes back, she immediately sets her sprinkler valves strategically on her very green lawn and waters it for hours until the ground is soggy. More water flows freely into her flowerbed from a separate hosepipe. Admittedly, hers is probably the best yard on the premises, and the lawn and flowers are just marvellous. But in the face of the water crisis we are all experiencing, her idiosyncrasy smacks of selfishness to most tenants. What’s more, when the water comes, it has so little pressure that her turning on the outside taps somehow prevents the water from going into her immediate neighbours geysers. My family and I live right next door to her, and we are hardest hit.

Another thing is the combined water billing system. The old lady uses the most water yet is the most vocal each time the bill hikes. Seemingly unaware of anything, she continues to soak her yard at every opportunity. At one time, water was available only so briefly that by the time my mother got enough to soak her laundry, the taps were dry, and the old lady next door had been watering her yard again – meaning we had no reserve storage in our geyser for the next I don’t know how many days. I heard my Ma utter under her breath that some people just pretend to be blissfully ignorant and just won’t make necessary adjustments even to help others realise basic comforts. Some tenants go as far as saying she is a heartless racist still psychologically living in Rhodesia.

On another point, ever since my sisters changed schools owing to relocation, they are harassed daily by both staff and prefects for wearing black shoes instead of brown. Of course we would like very much to comply with proper school regalia regulations, but school shoes of any colour are now a scarce commodity wherever you search, from Bata to Meikles. Understandably, authorities can’t be blamed for wanting to maintain order but aren’t they also just pretending to be stubbornly ignorant of reality, and refusing to adjust? Should they? The same school authorities no longer bother to explain by letter as used to be the tradition, but now have this knack of instructing kids to bring certain amounts of money; say $500,000 or so at a time. My often-cynical mother conceives of this as daylight robbery by people “trying to subsidise their wages through child exploitation.”

I recall the words of one psychologist saying of World War One that some people simply mentally refuse to live in the present by being “seemingly oblivious” of the changes around them. They want to have their bacon and eggs even as they dwell in the shacks that were once mansions that got taken apart by scud missiles. Now between the old lady and the school authorities – I want to believe the former is just being that; an old lady. And the latter, well maybe they just cannot help themselves . . . though I doubt my Ma would agree with me.