Dear Family and Friends,
Standing outside over yet another smoky fire late one afternoon this week, a
Go-Away bird chastised me from a nearby tree. I’m sure this Grey Lourie is as
fed up of me intruding into its territory as I am of being there - trying to
get a hot meal for supper. For five of the last six days the electricity has
gone off before 5 in the morning and only come back 16 or 17 hours later a
little before midnight. “Go Away! Go Away!” the Grey Lourie called out
repeatedly as my eyes streamed from the smoke and I stirred my little pot. My
hair and clothes stink of smoke, fingers are yellow and sooty but this is what
we’ve all been reduced to in Zimbabwe. Our government don’t talk about the power
cuts anymore and don’t even try and feed us with lame excuses about how the
power is being used to irrigate non-existent crops. We all know it’s not true
and the proof is there in the empty fields for all to see.

Something else our government aren’t talking about anymore is the nationwide
non availability of bread and the empty shops in all our towns and cities.
Everywhere you go people are struggling almost beyond description to try and
survive and yet the country’s MP’s, both from the ruling party and the
opposition, do nothing to put an end to this time of horror. I have lost count
of how many weeks this has been going on for but it must be around three months.
None of the basics needed for daily survival are available to buy. There is no
flour to bake with, no pasta, rice, lentils, dried beans or canned goods. People
everywhere are hungry, not for luxuries like biscuits or snack food but for the
staples that fill your stomach. When you ask people nowadays how they are
coping, mostly they say that they are not, they say they are hungry, tired and
have little energy. This is a national crisis almost beyond description and
people say they are alive only because of ” the hand of God.”

This week as Monks and then ordinary people in Burma took to the streets in
their thousands calling out ‘Democracy, Democracy’ in the face of the police and
soldiers, we can’t help but wonder why something similar does not happen here.
The chant could be shorter and even simpler than in Burma and it could just be:
‘Food, food,’ but without leadership it seems as elusive as ever.

I end with a story about a man who is epileptic and visited the local
government hospital for his regular check-up this week. It took four hours
before he was seen by a nurse who scribbled in his book that this was a known
case and that the hospital pharmacy should dispense his prescription of 90
phenobarb tablets at no charge - as they usually do. This major provincial
government hospital had no phenobarb however so the man went to the biggest and
busiest pharmacy in the town. They said the phenobarb would cost 1.2 million
dollars - this is ten times more than the man’s government stipulated minimum
monthly wage. I offered to help and took the prescription to another pharmacy.
The exact same tablets cost 250 thousand dollars - nearly five times cheaper.
When I gave them to the man, his eyes shone with tears and he thanked me - ‘I
thought I would have to die’ he said.

What a way to live, and to die.

Until next week, thanks for reading, love
cathy.

Copyright cathy buckle 29 Sept 2007.
Published with kind permission of the Author

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