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Zimbabweans cannot afford dying
Marko Phiri
August 01, 2005

Zimbabwe’s near esoteric inflation is being felt within spheres which a few years ago were issues which would not give anybody sleepless nights. Only the event caused migraines, but otherwise the attendant processes were done with relative ease. Merchants of death - the pun is intended - who sprouted after HIV and Aids hit these shores are raking millions if not billions in revenue as Zimbabwe’s ailing economy continues destroying the little buntu that was left among us.

While it is true communities need funeral parlours and other service providers within the business of death, that families now have to deal with not only their grief but also worry about where they will get finance to give relatives a decent send-off has become the norm in an increasingly abnormal society.

In 2002, a family struggled to hire a bus to ferry mourners to the local cemetery. And the price? Well, $22,000 actually. There was no fuel crisis back then, but pulling together meagre resources proved one hell of a headache. A month ago a colleague went to hire a bus to carry mourners, and was told to fork out $1,5 million. A few weeks later he was back looking for a bus, again to ferry mourners to the local cemetery. The asking price? $2,5 million! Then somebody quipped, leli lizwe lamanga. Wabona ngaphi into ekhwela nge $1 million? (Loosely translated - this is a "false" country. Where in the world have you seen anything being increased by a million dollars?).

It is these seemingly small and distant occasions which ought to run smoothly to ease the emotional and psychological burden of death which bring to the fore the bad turn of events here. While others debate the technicalities of the position Zimbabwe finds itself in, the stories that remain to be told are not only of those families deprived of roofs and livelihood, but also those for whom death itself is not "merely" about the passing of a loved one. For them the real sorrow begins when they have to debate how they will bury the deceased considering the exponential rise of those traditional funeral expenses.

It is an accepted part of township lore that no burial occurs without one or two buses finding their way among the funeral cortege. But now with the fuel seemingly only being found at an arm and leg from the streetwise who hoard it from neighbouring Botswana, the buses are slowly disappearing. Unless of course one still has very deep pockets, or by some other obligation they want locals to bid farewell to one who once lived amongst them, only then will there be such a rare sighting. "Look, a bus," the people on the roadside whisper as if Michael Jackson is in town. Still, alongside the bus, the family has to worry about feeding mourners.

Is not death itself tormenting enough without families having to worry about feeding mourners, hiring buses etc.? These are issues which only a few years ago and at a time when, though the bad economic and political turn had already been taken, families could still not afford something like $22,000. It is from these experiences in the townships that the reality of the cruelty of the rulers is felt. And then the people are told all this suffering is because somebody they have never seen or heard of before in their lives is actually responsible for the expensive buses to carry mourners!

From the days when the people would gladly take a relative who died in the city for burial in their rural home, so much has altered the way people here mourn. Now instead of being buried at your homestead, the expense involved has meant people are buried in the city cemetery not where they would have loved among their patriarchs and matriarchs. Dying has become an expensive affair, and who can afford it considering the circumstances? It is interesting to realise then that bad governance has also affected people’s socio-cultural order of doing things.

It is important to debate issues about economic turn around, but what is equally important would be recording history to give those economic hardships a face and show how those economic woes have affected the people whose story would not make the headlines. What becomes increasingly shocking then is the patent arrogance of the rulers who seem to firmly believe that the people’s "belly aching" is inspired by very infertile imaginations. All is well here so what the heck are you complaining about? Walk on the wild side comrades, the mean streets of Zimbabwe’s townships, places where death no longer comes like a thief at night, but is seen coming and still - owing to meagre wages that cannot pay the hospital bills thus die of treatable ailments - nothing is done; attend a local funeral, then you will see the face of hardship. And perhaps if you have a soul, you might just quit politics.

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