Zimbabwe: The Fear

I am reading the book The Fear: the Final Days of Robert Mugabe. It’s an account of the days after the Zimbabwe election in 2008, when it was certain Mugabe was going to lose his grip of power. The book has been banned in Zim. I debate putting it in my carry-on luggage for my flight to Harare, the capital of Zim. You never know with customs, get the wrong guy, wearing the wrong uniform, and you are stuffed. I decide to carry it. I wrap it tightly in a long sleeve shirt, as if that will help.

Customs is not a problem, I actually wiz through, jump in my rent-a-car, well, rent-a-truck and head for the bush. I am here looking into land tenure matters and the possible integration of communities in businesses in Zim. A new law requires all businesses to have 51% shareholders Zimbabweans; it’s similar to the South African Black Economic Empowerment Bill. It presents an opportunity to provide equity for communities in tourism businesses through acquisition into land, wildlife and the actual business.

The last time I was in Zim, the country had already changed to US dollar (remember the Zimbabwean dollar went through the roof—you had to carry a suitcase of Zim dollars to buy a loaf of bread). I have a 30 trillion Zimbabwean dollar bill hanging on my mirror at home. I purchased it at Vic Falls for $5 from a kid selling the now souvenir Zim dollars. I love that ingenuity. When I was here a year ago, to buy a bottle of contact lens cleaner, it was $30. Prices have stabilized. I go to a grocery store in Harare to shop for food for the bush. Food for four days plus comes to less than $100.

I travel 7 hours south to the southwestern part of Zimbabwe. It is a beautiful country and what strikes most people is its potential. You don’t even need to imagine, just look back in its history, Zim was the breadbasket of Africa and had a robust tourism industry. The theme of my trip was “what potential…” “if only…” “this used to be….” It is a tragic story. They have diamonds, minerals, rich soils for agriculture and wildlife, but this has all been hampered by politics. The unity government that was forced between Mugabe (ZANU PF) and Tsvangirai (MDC) is teetering. Mugabe is pushing for an election this year, while others are trying to develop a new constitution in advance of an election, which many predict for next year. (Photo above says VOTE MDC.)

I spend my time in Zim’s largest private conservancy. It used to be cattle farms, but converted to wildlife in the 90’s. It has all the big 5, its lion population is growing (which is significant as Africa’s lions are facing demise), they have wild dogs, and rhinos (again, critical as South Africa faces a total onslaught of rhino poaching.) It’s a spectacular area that links eventually through other wildlife conservancies and Parks and into South Africa and Mozambique’s protected areas. The potential is enormous, if only…

I meet with various landowners. Many of the white Zimbabweans I speak with tell me stories of their land being grabbed, taken. Everyone in Zimbabwe, black or white, has stories, wounds. I am hosted by a third generation Zimbabwean who is optimistic that Zim has gone through its worse period. Others are not so sure.

Many conservancies like this one has been “resettled”—people moved onto the land, usually with minimal notice to the landowners. Zimbabwe Government (Mugabe) tried to settle the land issue, and did so in the most haphazard, violent and unproductive way. For example, in this area, communities have been settled IN the conservancy. This area is incredibly dry, so the communities cannot grow food, so, they are starving. And, they have to deal with wildlife. It’s a dreadful situation. But their permanence on the land is uncertain; some in government say they will not stay there, so everyone just waits, in a dreadful holding pattern. How can you invest if you are uncertain of your future? The same goes for donors, they cannot invest if the situation is tenuous.

If (right, here is the big “if”), if we knew these communities were permanent, it presents opportunities. We could zone certain areas for farming, introduce irrigation and other micro-enterprises, and help them acquire 51% of the tourism businesses in the Conservancy. But to achieve the 51%, many business owners have been given partners. And, not a surprise, guess who the partners are? ZANU PF leaders, former Army Generals, MPs etc… So, you are a landowner, you run a business, you are given your partners, what are your choices—you fight it and lose your land (this has been tried) or you cooperate and enter into a partnership with these crooks. You have no choice.

It’s even more complicated because a recent law in Zim says all land belongs to the Government, so if you bought your land, well, don’t include that in the valuation, because it’s not yours anymore. It’s a quagmire. And of course, who loses out, the communities and wildlife. And man, if these communities rose up, they would just be pushed back down. Look what happened after the 2008 election, if you were found to have voted or worse yet worked for MDC you were beaten severely, killed or jailed. After the re-run, which only included Mugabe because Tsvangirai pulled out, if your thumb was not red with ink from voting, you were again beaten, killed or jailed. The power of fear is not to be underestimated. Add to all these factors the fact that Zimbabwe has no tourism business right now because everyone is afraid to travel to Zim, so anyone obtaining 51% of any business is going to be losing money. It’s not a pretty story.

Other land has been invaded because the landowners were suspected of being aligned with MDC. It’s the age old story, use land and food for your political advancement. Mugabe is a master. Agricultural development has completely crashed in the country after the land grabs, so ZANU PF distributes food when it is timely, and certainly does not hesitate to remind the people that this food will not come if he does not get their vote, so, what would you do? I suspect you would feed your children. There have been so many brave people in this country who have sacrificed themselves for the longer term good and they keep at it despite the enormous challenges.

Bob, as everyone calls Mugabe as if he is their neighbor, after 32 years in power, is not doing well health wise. Everyone is speculating what will happen next. Many people think it will be the new beginning. Others think things could get worse (hard to believe) with a power vacuum and two factions of ZANU PF vying for the new iron grip.

Back in Harare, after a 7 hour drive, I go to the hotel to change before a meeting with USAID. Of course the room is not ready. All I want to do is wash my face, put on some presentable clothes. I wait. The hotel is buzzing. There is a mining conference and a group drafting the new constitution. Some wear t-shirts that say “A constitution drafted by Zimbabweans, for Zimbabweans.” They too are hopeful, they have to be.

My room is finally ready. We get there and the key does not work. The internet cards are not available but I can buy a month membership. Ah, Africa. I get to USAID on time and dressed nicely. Like all foreign embassies in Africa, it’s like entering a fortress: passport shown, phones taken away, lap tops registered, badge put on etc… My meeting is interesting, not surprising. The United States has sanctions against Zimbabwe, so our aid is limited to Humanitarian Plus—classic DC jargon. They are funding agricultural assistance as well as food aid. It is critical, but they could be doing so much more. It is a tricky line to walk, how do you aid a country without empowering its oppressors. Needless to say Mugabe is not a fan of the US, Europe… etc… Unlike other leaders where you try to figure out what they really think, Bob is very transparent. Any time he is interviewed he usually stars spitting blood about Britain, and how they are trying to re-colonize Zimbabwe. The woman I am meeting is the head of the USAID Economic Development Unit. In most African countries, USAID, EU, World Bank etc… they collaborate closely with the Government. Makes sense as they are pouring money into Africa. The person I am meeting with has been trying to get a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture since last August, but has not been granted one yet. A telling sign.

Back in Joburg one of our staff members is a young woman from Zimbabwe. I ask her if she wants to return. She pauses and then says no. I ask her if the country becomes peaceful, would she want to return. She says to me “When Mugabe came to power I was one years old. I have not known any other president. After I finished University I wanted to do something with myself and I could not do it in Zim so I came here. My family members, who are still in Zim, have memories of what Zim used to be like, but for me and my generation, I do not know that country.” I wonder what country she will know.

Namibia and Elephant Stories

From my last trip to DRC with 80 million people to Namibia with 2 million people, the difference is staggering. But this is Africa. This is reflective of its enormous diversity in people, landscapes, politics (well, maybe) and cultures. We are here looking at potential investment projects for a new fund we have set up. The idea is to provide loans to communities to help them gain equity in robust businesses, so that they can benefit substantially from conservation, also loans to businesses who benefit conservation and communities.


Namibia is a predominantly arid country, and yet we are here during the wettest period in years. It is raining buckets. The capital Windhoek seems quite civilized with good roads, space and not much congestion—a nice break from Nairobi. You have to love the main road which is named after Robert Mugabe. We spent most of our time in the northwest part of the country. Vast, open land, mountainous, with massive canyons and rivers. A spectacularly beautiful country. Namibia is famous for its desert adapted species, such as lions and elephants.

One night we stay at a simple camp that we are considering investing in with a man who has been living in this remote camp for years, Dennis. A colleague prods him to tell the story of the elephant. He does. There was a bull elephant who hung around his camp. Dennis did not mind and for years, this elephant did this. The only time Dennis minded was when guests were around. One time there were guests and Dennis "shooed" the elephant away, as he normally did. However, this time the elephant went around the edge of the camp. Dennis noted that he was ripping grass but not eating it, ie. he was really ticked off and considering what to do.

A journalist was staying at the camp, and she got close to take photos. Dennis warned her, but before they knew it, the elephant started running after the women. She tripped, fell on her stomach. Knowing what would come next, Dennis threw a rock at the elephant. The elephant turned, looked at him, looked at the women, and started charging Dennis. Dennis too tripped, landed on his stomach. The elephant flipped him over onto his back (breaking a number of rips in the mean time) and placed his trunk on Dennis’s chest. He stood over him with his trunk pressed on his chest, not hurting him, but applying enough pressure so Dennis knew who was boss. The message: listen guy, you and I have co-existed quite well, but let’s make one thing clear, I can easily wreck you. But he didn’t. After a few minutes, he lifted his trunk off him and walked away.

I asked Dennis if he has seen the elephant since then. He said, oh yes, when I got back from the hospital, he was here, and we keep our respectful distances since then.

The rain continued and one day we drove in an open sided vehicle, your traditional safari vehicle, and the rain came in buckets, sideways. We were drenched. It seemed that every time we needed to be outside, which as you can imagine was a lot, the skies would open. When we were leaving from the airport, the sky was black. I said to my colleague “you know what is going to happen, as soon as our flight is called, it will monsoon.” Sure enough, the skies opened. This is not an airport where you are in a tunnel to the plane, you walk what seems like a kilometer to the airplane. Passengers refused to leave the gate the rain was coming down so hard. So they backed a truck to the door, and lifted us all into the truck with a construction levy, you know, the ones you put goods on, and raise it up to the flat bed of the truck. Then they delivered us to the plane. TIA. This is Africa.