Inside/Out with Marianne Knuth, founder of Kufunda Learning Village
Kubatana.net

Describe yourself in five words?
I’m a woman that loves to connect with other people’s passion and spirit.

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?
To listen to my heart and not to look for answers from outside.

What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done?
I think I suppress those memories (laughs).

What is your most treasured possession?
My Tingshas, they’re Tibetan bells. We use them for dialogue and circle work. Sometimes to mark the beginning with a sound and then people can just sit and be, and we always end with it. It’s marking space in a way that’s more sacred.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Probably losing hope, related to that, losing faith in yourself and your ability to escape whatever situation you’re in. To think that there’s nothing more you can do and you don’t have that internal resource to rise above whatever is challenging you.

Do you have any strange hobbies?
No I don’t think so. I like to run, do yoga, meditate, and read.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
One of my teeth sticks out, but when the dentist said I could have it changed I realised that I would lose my capacity to whistle, so I decided not to.

What is your greatest extravagance?
A really nice glass of red wine and Lindt dark chocolate.

What do you have in your fridge?
Freshly milked cow’s milk, and I just went to the Doon Estate Market on Sunday, so I’ve got the most incredible bream paste. Otherwise there’s the usual yoghurt, juice . . .

What is your greatest fear?
For some reason the thing that jumped into my mind was that Marianne Williamson quote about how our greatest fear is not that we’re inadequate but that we are powerful beyond measure. I mean I don’t go to sleep thinking, ‘I’m so afraid that I’m powerful’ but I have noticed that there are times when I have an opportunity to shine, that I’m afraid of taking away attention from someone else. Another worry is that this constant source of energy and belief that everything is possible, what if that dries out, and that would be the worst possible thing that could ever happen.

Are there times when you feel that flame flicker?
I’ve just come out of four years that’s been an all time low. I think I made rational choices which was alright, but it wasn’t coming from that place of inspiration, where I know if I work from that place anything is possible. Returning to Zimbabwe was a part of listening to my inspiration.

What have you got in your pockets right now?
I don’t have anything in my pockets.

What is your favourite journey?
The journey of creating Kufunda. The journey of coming home and creating something. It wasn’t a matter of choice. Every cell of my body was directing me back home.

Who are your heroes in real life?
Ghandi was a real inspiration for me, now I think he’s a little bit too austere. I think we can do good in the world and enjoy life at the same time. A lot of my heroes are people who have chosen slightly different avenues than what we see as traditional success, but that are so full of life and vitality and inspiration. There are people who are creating similar things like I’m doing at Kufunda, but all around the world. There’s Manish Jain from Shikshantar in India. His mission is to create learning societies. There are two women in Greece, Sara Whiteley and Maria Scordiales, their enquiry is around living wholeness and they’ve created a beautiful centre in Greece where people gather a few times a year, and they do work in Europe and apply their work to real issues and problems and they bring a feminine way of negotiating to the corridors of power.

When and where were you happiest?
In the early days of Kufunda, when I was letting purpose flow through me, and also when I was at university. I became president of an international student organisation called AIESEC. That for me was the first real lesson that anything is possible.

What is your biggest vice?
For all this talk about collaboration and needing each other, I’m not very good at asking for help. I’m good at creating process where people can work together, but when things get stuck, I still think that I have to figure it out myself.

Interviewer: Do you have a stubborn streak?

Somewhat. Which is probably why collaborations are so important for me because I’m still learning it (laughs).

What were you like at school?
I went up to O level here and I was very studious and hardworking. Then when I went to Denmark, I kind of stayed like that, but suddenly there was this big world and I was free. I was exploring life and doing all sorts of other things that my parents didn’t think were as important as book learning.

What are you doing next?
Right now I’m in a place where I’m doing things that inspire me, whether it’s at Kufunda or elsewhere and I want to write about the last ten years of my life and see what comes out of that. I’ve been so busy for such a long time, and it feels so good to have time for an afternoon to write.

ZESA Holdings Group Stakeholder Relations Manager, Mr Fullard Gwasira clarified the new electricity tariffs In a telephone interview. He said that the 31% increase in tariff was not an increase in the overall charge to ZESA customers and the new tariff is structured as follows:

- The first 50 kWh had increased to 2.35c
- 51kWh to 300kWh will be charged at 11c
- Any usage over 300kWh will be charged at 15.c

Mr Gwasira said that with the new tariff they expected the average customer bill to be charged at 9.34c/ kWh. Since ZESA has removed the fixed monthly charge, this will translate to a marked reduction in charges to the customer, as long as they remain within expected usage parameters.

ZESA has changed its tariff scheme because the company is unable to sustain its operations. In the period 2009 to present the commodity prices of water, diesel and coal, all of which are required to generate power increased, but ZESA was not been able to raise its tariffs in order to compensate. Electricity in Zimbabwe was subsidised by the government through the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe, however, since dollarization, the RBZ has been unable to support ZESA operations leading the power supplier to operate at sub-economic levels. Other factors affecting electricity tariffs include the strengthening of the Rand against the US Dollar, as ZESA purchases power from South Africa and Mozambique, both countries are members of the Rand monetary Union. Further there had been no inflation adjustments to the price of electricity.

Mr Gwasira went on to say that on the 1st January 2009 ZESA had written off customer bills that were unpaid prior to this date.

View the tariff schedule here

Shame, poor Tendai Biti, for all his well meaning it seems his partners in Zimbabwe’s economy, our so called captains of industry, are only in it for short term profits and themselves. It wasn’t that long ago that Zimbabweans were making trips across the border to Musina and Francis Town en mass to buy their monthly groceries. And now our so called captains of industry are doing their best to revive what had become a dying means of survival.

The logic behind a reintroduction of import tariffs cannot really be faulted. According to an analysis in the Financial Gazette, there had been an improvement in the supply of basic goods on the market, and local producers needed protection from government to allow their industries to grow. But before the ink had even dried on the Minister’s midterm fiscal policy, retailers, local manufacturers and even hoteliers practically fell over themselves in their rush to increase prices.  By the end of July not only had the prices of the commodities listed by the Minister increased, but also the prices of those that were not listed including bath soap, detergents and hotel accommodation.

Let’s be honest, the quality of Zimbabwean goods has decreased so much that they would be unable to compete on an open market. My most favourite thing to snack on is potato chips, and in the 90s I was a Willard’s tomato flavoured chips loyalist. Yet when Willards potato chips returned to supermarket shelves, my favourite flavour had a bitter after-taste and was far more expensive than imported Simbas or Lays. So I stopped buying them. In terms of cooking oil, I’ve found that the cooking oil I used to buy in Mbare during gore renzara, that had been pressed from soya beans and sun flower seeds left food without any strange tastes or smells after frying unlike the locally produced cooking oils I’m now supposed to start buying. And, it’s all very nice that a certain locally produced soap lasts and lasts, but it would be nice if the manufacturers reduced that soaps percent content of perfumes, because it’s scent also lasts and lasts. And how about diversifying that product range to include shower gel and body lotion.

In a post about the launch of the ‘buy Zimbabwe’ campaign, blogger Zakeo Zakeos observed:

… it amazes me that some people still choose to have seminars and such without consulting me first. Because if these learned gentlemen had taken 2 minutes to brief me that they are concerned about Zimbabweans not buying enough local products, I would have given them one devilishly simple but amazingly effective strategy: Stop making shit.

I had the unusual pleasure of masquerading as a designer on the closing night of Zimbabwe Fashion Week. The stress of not really knowing what was going on was overcome by the excitement of being part of a real fashion show. Well done to the organisers for being the first to bring the glamour of international fashion to Zimbabwe. Pictured above is the fabulous Denise Mutsamwira.

When it was reported that Zimbabwe’s HIV prevalence had dropped, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. For years our televisions and radios had been blaring HIV awareness messages ad nauseum, and apparently it had worked. The average Zimbabwean seemed very knowledgeable about HIV, how one could and couldn’t contract the virus, what one could do to protect themselves and condoms could be found in even the most remotely located bottle store. Even at Chiadzwa, before the soldiers, the dogs and the guns, I’m told you could be guaranteed to find four things: cheap alcohol, prostitutes, diamonds and condoms.

We’ve spent some time speaking with young people about HIV and sexuality and I’m beginning to think that there’s another reason why the prevalence is so low. I believe the statistics that are available do not truly reflect the Zimbabwean population. Young Zimbabweans, especially those in the highest risk groups are not getting tested and it’s because they are afraid. Attitudes about what it means to have HIV have not changed since the 80s. Back then having HIV meant it was only a matter of time before you succumbed and died horribly of an opportunistic infection. HIV was shrouded in mystery, like some sort of evil spirit, no one wanted to admit that they so much as knew it existed. This attitude has not changed over the last two decades.

Since the advent of treatments that prevent mother-to-child infections in the 90s, there is an entire generation of Zimbabweans, who are now reaching adulthood who are not addressed by HIV awareness campaigns, and there is nothing is the school curriculum that speaks to their particular set of circumstances. Now reaching young adulthood, this generation of young people has many questions about their status; life and their place in societies that have gone unanswered making life almost un-navigable. Our discussions also reveal that even amongst people living with HIV, and the families that support them, there is a general lack of knowledge about the course of the disease in complement to ARV treatments and proper nutrition.  During the discussion we were told a story about a young girl born with HIV whose father refused to let her take her ARVs because she looked healthy. ‘Hasisina chirwere.’ He said. (She’s not sick anymore)

Donor organisations are notorious for being fickle, and for funding programmes and community organisations that meet their agenda at that point in time, which then creates contradictions and gaps in information and in effect reduces the efficacy of the entire communication exercise.  There seems to be copious amounts of donor funding going towards patronising and poorly constructed awareness campaigns. How often do people actually pay attention to these? And are they even likely to create behaviour change? It is frustrating that in comparison, very little funding goes towards addressing the gaps in knowledge that have existed for twenty years, a consequence of this being found in the attitudes of health workers in the HIV field, who reportedly are creating stigma around the patients they are supposed to treat. Moreover, there is little or no funding going towards that generation of young people born with HIV that is coming of age today. The campaigns that are in the public space create the wrong impression in the public mind about HIV, that the only means of transmission is through sex, and more recently sexual networking, therefore a young child with HIV must either have had a sugar daddy or been raped.  There is no room in this for an alternative narrative, and that is victimisation.