Since late October this year, 211 cases of typhoid have been reported in Harare. Reported cases of typhoid within Harare have opened a Pandora’s Box.

Though no deaths have been recorded so far, questions have been asked as to how a primitive disease such as typhoid can cause havoc in a country that has proper infrastructure in place for the supply of clean water.

Bigger questions are centred on how a country that has attained so much progress in health continues to experience typhoid cases.

Last year, Harare’s Mabvuku suburb was hit by a typhoid outbreak and hundreds of residents feared for their lives as the disease spread like a veld fire across the suburbs.

Then Harare City Council authorities claimed that they had contained the outbreak. Now a year later, the disease has resurfaced in Dzivarasekwa suburbs, making it clear that that only a temporary solution had been found.

More than 200 cases of the disease have so far been reported.

The underlying factor behind the outbreak of typhoid is the shortage of water.

Mabvuku is one place where residents struggle to get access to clean water. The residents have dug wells while boreholes have been sunk as alternative sources of clean water.

While for years Harare residents had thought that water problems are for those living in Eastern suburbs, which are furthest from Motorn Jeffrey Waterworks, the problems have come close next door. Suburbs such as Dzivarasekwa, Budiriro, Highfield, Glen Norah and Glen View also have serious water problems. Pessimists say the situation will become even worse while prophets of doom say the whole capital will end up being supplied by boreholes and wells.

But the million-dollar question is, has Harare really come to such a stage whereby residents have to accept that the city fathers cannot provide water?

Harare Residents’ Trust Coordinator, Mr Precious Shumba sees the typhoid outbreak as a sign of a gloomy future unless drastic measures are urgently taken.

For local government expert, Mr Percy Toriro, the typhoid outbreak in Harare is a clear sign of a failed system.
For years, the Harare City Council has been talking about alternative water sources but no action has really taken place on the ground. The peg that was planted at the proposed site of Kunzvi Dam ages ago has now gathered rust and has probably disappeared by now. Kunzvi Dam is a long-term solution.

Yet, the painful fact about Harare is that the council is simply failing to harness water from dams, purify it and supply residents who pay exorbitant charges every month.

While we huff and puff trying to find solutions, it is sad to realise that the capital’s authorities are clueless. The authorities have no solution to the capital’s water woes and are not treating the matter with the urgency it deserves.

For the ordinary person in Mabvuku, who has not accessed tap water for years, the question is: Can such a council continue to be entrusted with such a vital service delivery? Does the council still have a right to collect water rates? Or is it a matter of wrong people being given such an important mandate?

I remember the days when water in the taps sometimes used to come out cloudy and with a strong smell of the purification chemicals the City Council would use on the water. When this would happen some of us would complain that they were using too many of these purification chemicals and that they made the water taste ‘funny’. Indeed, others amongst us even wondered if these chemicals might be poisonous or harmful to our health. Ah, the good old days!

The water that comes out of our taps today is now harmful, and with its signature tinge of yellow-brown, is now a far cry from the cloudy, overly clean waters of old.

Many of Harare’s resident’s don’t even get to see this dirty water gushing out of their taps, as they no longer get City Council water. As a result, many are using and reusing dirty water from anywhere and everywhere. The water in Harare is no longer safe. In its latest assault on the City of Harare, the deadly water has hospitalised 211 (and counting) people. With the memory of the cholera outbreak of 2008 still fresh in our minds, I am perplexed that the council is doing absolutely nothing, when they know only too well how bad the situation can become.

iGreen Africa is planning a nationwide Green T-Shirt day, to promote eco-consciousness amongst the public: 2 December 2011.

According to iGreen Africa:

We aim to get everyone thinking about the environment and the continued human impact on our ecosystems, by getting them to wear green as a symbol of care and concern towards the environment. This we aim to do this a day before the national tree planting day, and inspire people to start considering the environment as part of their every day life. Fridays are normally casual days at work, which is why the first Friday of December comes as an ideal date for people to wear something green, and show their love for the planet.

Will wearing green t-shirts solve our human induced environmental crisis/ climate crisis? No.

So why wear green t-shirts if its not going to solve our problems? It comes as a symbolic gesture, that will get every one thinking.

Get involved. Wear green 2 December, and pass it on!

There was a time when Zimbabwean women had to be extremely careful about how they dressed in public. Cover up, or they (men) would take it off. Wearing wrap-over skirts, shorts and, of course, mini-skirts was just asking for trouble. Even tight fitting hipsters were a big no-no.

Recently it seemed that women were more able to dress liberally in the central business district (CBD). Women of all ages, shapes and sizes wear tight trousers, squeeze into skinny jeans, dress in short ‘dress-tops’ with leggings or jeggings, and even shorts now, without fearing for their safety. As the temperatures have risen, so have the hemlines, so I was very shocked with what I saw only this morning. It would seem that history is repeating itself, and we women have to once again BEWARE OF WHAT WE WEAR in town.

I was on my way to work this morning and as the combi drew closer to the rank, there was a sudden traffic-jam, indicating that something had just happened. In the distance a crowd could be heard, whistling, shouting, and laughing. Everyone seemed to be focussed on a particular moving object. The rumbling crowd drew closer and some of what they were shouting could now be heard: “Hure!” “Mubvisei!”, “Dzimwe hembe dzasara kupi?”, “Ndizvo zvawanga uchida!” “Ungaita chipfambi mangwanani ano?”(“Bitch!” “Take them off”, “Where are the rest of your clothes?”, “This is what you wanted!” “How can you prostitute yourself so early in the morning?”)

The crowd was getting more and more irate and some of the hecklers had even taken out their mobile phones to photograph this mysterious trouble-maker. She finally emerged, dressed in a blue long sleeved top, a denim mini-skirt and flat sandals. She was tightly clutching a man’s arm and he attempted to manoeuvre them both through the enraged crowd, all of whom were men. Cameras clicked, fists banged on combi bodies, the men bellowed threats, hurled insults and comments of disapproval and disgust. The girl and her ‘saviour’, were swallowed by the growing crowd, (other men, having heard the commotion, had come to join in the taunting), only to emerge moments later halfway across the now completely blocked street. The pair, disappearing again into the belly of the beastly crowd, and miraculously re-appeared inside a parked combi. The mob then encircled it and began rocking it from side to side. With the crowd thus occupied, the road cleared and we were free to move.

All the men in the combi had something to say. One said that he didn’t wish to see such things as they would further raise his already high blood pressure, but all the while, he craned his head to see how the scene we had left behind was unfolding. Another said that they should indeed take her clothes off, because that is what she wanted and deserved. All the men agreed that she was immoral, and that displaying her body like that was disgusting.

I wondered why they had not looked away when they saw her ‘disgusting’ thighs only half covered by the mini-skirt, and why some of them had smiled and even licked their lips at the sight of other men tugging at the small garment.

All the women were silent, probably fearing that the bad old days have come back to haunt us once again.

Another holiday treat was getting to see Invictus, the movie. I then got a copy of it, and a copy of Nelson Mandela’s ‘Long Walk’ biography.

In the movie, Mr Mandela tells the captain of the South African Rugby team, that during his many years in prison, the poem inspired him to, “stand when all he wanted to do was lie down.” However, the biography makes no mention of this poem so maybe it was just some ‘licence’. (I was about to say poetic licence, but that was just too corny.) Maybe Mandela did not feel that way.

However, what really interested me was the contrast – this poem and it’s line “I am the captain of my soul”, vs. that defining Zimbabwean phrase, “handidi”. (I am not the one). Yes, there is a contrast there (even I am not that stupid), but what does it mean? What are the ramifications? What does it mean for Zimbabwe?

There is the first comparison between Mandela – being in charge. Of himself, first. Of his destiny, his environment, his achievements, his family (45 million I think he said). On the other hand, typical Zimbabwean, with the hand out. Begging. Begging for food. Begging for money. Begging for someone to change his government. Begging for a ride. Begging for dignity.

How often have I been asked, “why doesn’t the UN do something?” To which, the response rings loud and clear in my head, “why don’t YOU do something?”

How many times have I been told I must buy something from the vendor. “I’ve got to get bus fare to get home.” Again, my response, “Then you need to sell something that is worth buying, something I want.”

How often have we been told, ‘it is the result of illegal sanctions.” So often that even the MDC now seem to believe they exist (and it is most definitely a lie, there are no sanctions against Zimbabwe).

I have always wanted to believe it was my fault. Why am I not married? Doing something wrong. Why am I unemployed? Did not qualify myself? Why does no one like me? Because I am an asshole. Partly, because I am egotistical. I want to believe (and I want others to believe) I am the most important thing in the world. Partly because (in a practical sense), because I am he only one I can control. So if it someone else’s fault, I am out of control. If it is my fault, I can fix it (or not, in the case of the opposite sex!). So Mandela’s (possible) inspirational poem, rings to me. I want to believe I am the captain of my soul.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

From Pambazuka, an article on one of my favourite artists, Kudzanai Chiurai:

State of the nation, according to Kudzania Chiurai

Born in 1981 in Zimbabwe, Kudzanai Chiurai is an internationally acclaimed artist now living and working in Johannesburg, South Africa. He was the first black student to graduate with a BA in Fine Art from the University of Pretoria. Highly regarded as a leading voice of his generation, Kudzi has made a name for himself as a thought provoking artist who uses his art to highlight the many fallacies of our continent with specific focus on African leaders and culture. Chiurai’s early work focused on the political, economic and social strife in his homeland and has since evolved to reflect a continental dialogue that puts the state and its people at the centre of progress or the lack thereof. Seminal works like ‘Presidential Wallpaper’ depicted Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe as a sell-out and this led to Chiurai’s exile from Zimbabwe.

Armed with a paint brush and a strong desire for change Kudzi has become somewhat of a legend in the niche world of pan-African urban culture. For someone who has achieved so much in a short space of time with bodies of artwork that speak loudly, his humility, sensitivity and introverted personality are humbling, making for an interesting harmonious contrast between the artist and his work.

His latest presentation titled ‘State of the Nation’ is intended to explore aspects of a constructed African state that bears scars of political and cultural discourses. On a continent that has experienced more violent conflicts than any other, this exhibition follows an individual’s narration of events that lead up to the inaugural speech by the first democratically elected president. The conflict that exists between cultural vistas and postmodern political narratives is evident in Chiurai’s work. Themes range from rituals, genocide memories of Rwanda and the all too familiar propaganda machine of the state to win hearts and minds of the nation. The vivid and curated portrayal of political scenes and the fear it imposes on the general populace is both profound and sad. The political truth of our continent is captured in every line and colour and together the state of all our nations is laid bare.

Melissa Mboweni curated the exhibition in partnership with the Goethe Institute and collaborations with photographer Jurie Potgieter, singers Thandiswa Mazwai and Zaki Ibrahim as well as clever use of technology brought this body of work to life. Chiurai references child and woman soldiers, African liberation movements and civil wars. He tracks the similarities between societal, political and ideological doctrines of nations in tumultuous times of transition with the often-ignored impact these cacophonous changes have on citizens. The juxtaposing of public and private were highlighted in performances that took place in the streets of Newtown and in the exhibition space that fostered private conversations about the state of our own nation as well as the artist’s work. A sound and technology installation scores the gallery experience. The influence of hip-hop in Kudzi’s own life is evident in his installations.

In a style similar to previous bodies of work such as ‘Dying to be Men’ series and ‘Black President’, Chiurai’s constructed environments are enticing, seductive and explore real casualties of African independence and critically examine the role of state public servants in advancing democracy. This ‘State of the Nation’ exhibition is a timely theme that comes at a time when the continent is grappling with its democratic identity and the role of the state in bringing real freedom and justice to its people.

As an art lover and a follower of Kudzi’s work, I’m hoping his social themes will evolve to depict some of the goodness on our continent and the power of the individual in bringing about change in their own community regardless of the state. Kudzi has the ability, passion and drive to start painting imageries of Africa that shows progress and a people with an undying spirit for survival and entrepreneurship.

- Charles Nhamo Rupare
* Charles Nhamo Rupare is of Shona origin and lives life through the creative eye and dreams of Afrika regaining her dignity and her sons and daughters developing the necessary mental freedom to love peace and communal co-existence. He is an award-winning Afrikan-centred brand specialist, percussionist, writer and a Pan-Afrikan thinker. He is chief editor of www.kush.co.za, a co-founder of Kush Kollective and a Partner of TEDx Soweto.

I remember learning about endangered animal species while I was in school. Freshest in my mind are pythons and rhinos. I always hoped to see the latter in the flesh but it seems I might be running out of time. I am sad to say that the Western Black Rhino is no more, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature. They also say that several other sub-species of rhinos will soon be extinct too. If we are not careful, the BIG FIVE may soon be the NOT-SO-BIG FOUR. For more, here you go:

The Western black rhino of Africa has been declared officially extinct, and two other subspecies of rhinoceros are close to meeting the same fate, a leading conservation group said Thursday.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature said a recent reassessment of the Western black rhino had led it to declare the subspecies extinct, adding that the Northern white rhino of central Africa is now “possibly extinct” in the wild and the Javan rhino is “probably extinct” in Vietnam, after poachers killed the last animal there in 2010.

A small but declining population of the Javan rhino survives on the Indonesian island of Java, it added.

“A lack of political support and willpower for conservation efforts in many rhino habitats, international organized crime groups targeting rhinos and increasing illegal demand for rhino horns and commercial poaching are the main threats faced by rhinos,” the group said in a statement accompanying the latest update of its so-called Red List of endangered species.

About a quarter of all mammals are at risk of extinction, IUCN said, adding that some species have been brought back from the brink with successful conservation programs.

The southern white rhino numbered just 100 animals at the end of the 19th century, but has since flourished and now has a population of more than 20,000.

SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE