Opinions

The silent genocide: insights on Zimbabwe

In print | October 4, 2007

I wish that the conflict in Zimbabwe would be given the advantage of being labeled “The Zimbabwean Genocide.” Perhaps then this country would meet the criteria for sustained international outcry and a cavalry of righteous student groups armed with colored armbands (or, at the very least, ribbons). Maybe then the struggle for life that ordinary Zimbabwean experiences would be noted and addressed.

Talking to some students here, I get the impression that some feel genocide is synonymous with blood-drenched violence and the presence of two distinct groups of “good people” and “bad people.” To understand the situation in Zimbabwe, though, one has to step away from that notion. I want to make it clear here though, that I am not challenging the atrocities of or trying to take anything away from , other genocides that have been marked by extreme violence.

Zimbabwe has its own silent unconventional genocide. Firstly, there are no machetes or AK47s being used to inflict extreme violence. The weapon of choice is starvation. It’s as though the hunger pains of the Zimbabwean citizenry are used against it to maintain submissive behavior towards the dictatorship.

Though starvation seems like an unlikely tool, it is painfully effective. It preoccupies the Zimbabwean mind with a single basic thought: “Where will I get my next meal?” The urgency and potency of this survivalist thought leaves little room for any ideas of revolution or the overthrowing the current dictatorship.

How so?

Shopping for basic food in Zimbabwe has become a physically and mentally draining black market affair in which the wheelers and dealers are everyone from grandmothers to children. In 2005, legislation was passed that made vending (selling produce on the roadsides to other civilians) illegal. If you have any concept of Africa, you will know that vending in marketplaces and along roadsides is like an outdoor version of Macy’s. Only this time, the goods range from sizzling roasted maize to Muthis (medicine) made from a variety of smelly earthy items. You would also understand that it is these breezy shopping malls that used to financially support a large percentage of Zimbabweans. But, in more recent times, the high unemployment rate has created a new generation of desperately entrepreneurial citizens, creatively adapting to the every changing law.

The illegal method of shopping goes as follows:

1. As a customer you would remove your cap from your head and turn it over your head as if you were fanning the top. This is a signal that you are looking to buy goods – different vendors require different signals from their customers.

2. Once you and your vendor have made contact you would hand over a handkerchief filled with a crisp Z$200, 000 bill. At least the Zimbabwean government understands that hyperinflation can result in people carrying brief cases of money or bulky pockets. This year they introduced a new Z$200, 000 bill.

3. The vendor will inconspicuously sneeze, accept the handkerchief and temporarily disappear.

4. Later the vendor will return and place at your feet a bulky newspaper bundle filled with the illicit goods – five tomatoes.

There is a more legal way to shop, of course, but it has its own dilemmas and is equally draining.

That process would entail:

1. Waking up you and your child up at a ludicrously early time in order to start your long walk to a grocery store.

2. On the trek, in loving, motherly coos and ahhs, you would fill your child’s head with bewildering stories of mythical beings. Your child’s favorite story would be of the long rectangular vehicle that would pick people up at one destination and drop them off very close to their next destination. The fuel crisis in Zimbabwe is so bad that there is no longer enough fuel to maintain a dedicated bus service. Buses in Zimbabwe are rare and riding one within the city is a luxury that only the lucky experience.

3. Upon arriving at the supermarket you would walk up an aisle and notice one strikingly common feature – it’s empty. In a bid to reduce hyperinflation, legislature was passed in 2007 that forced all merchants to sell certain goods at less than 50 percent of their value.

Which merchants want to sell goods at an automatic loss? None.

Which merchants are still producing goods? Very few.

So what is available to buy in the majority of supermarkets? Close to nothing.

Hyperinflation adds to the insane nature of existence in Zimbabwe, and it is not uncommon that prices could change twice in one day. I’ve woken up and bought bread for Z$4300 in the morning and then Z$5000 in the evening. One new sick twist to this lunacy is that you can now have the money to buy goods but there are simply no goods to buy.

This concept of starvation being used as a tool may seem new to you, but it is a weapon that has been used before in other African countries. It’s as though every morning the question a Zimbabwean asks is, “Do I spend my time trying to find food or trying to start a revolution?” Very few choose the latter.

The second perplexing feature to the Zimbabwean situation comes into play when we ask – who are the “good people” and the “bad people?” It’s difficult to answer because the Zimbabwean population isn’t divided by jarring racial, cultural or religious lines. The majority of Zimbabweans suffer communally under the leadership of the Zimbabwe African National Union – Patriotic Front. Perhaps the best way to describe this is to consider Zimbabwe to be a battle between the “haves,” the leaders in government and their allies, and the “have nots,” the rest of the citizenry. While the majority of citizens struggle to shop daily, it’s not uncommon for the ministers to shop in South Africa, the neighboring blossoming country. It’s that classic African double standard where the leaders make the bed and force the citizens to sleep in it.

I have purposefully given a general idea of the current situation, in the hope that you will join me for the rest of the semester in discovering more about my country. If genocide is correctly defined as the deliberate mass killing of a specific group do you think Zimbabwe meets the criteria? I know where I stand.

Chenge is a first-year. You can reach her at cmahomv1@swarthmore.edu.