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Zimbabwe diary: Thursday - Transport woes and an impromptu recital
The Economist
September 20, 2007

http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=9821376&pub=170907&fsrc=RSS#thursday

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I DRIVE the teacher and one of his daughters to a church meeting taking place miles away, at the end of a long dirt road. They were planning on spending the evening and a good part of the night walking there.

On the way, we drive past an old man carrying a large calabash with metal slats fitted inside—a traditional musical instrument. He lives on the farm as well, and we stop to give him a ride. He is going to a musical get-together in the small neighbouring town. I tell him that I have never seen this instrument before, and he starts playing in the car. He sings for us until I drop him to his destination. This beats any car stereo hands down. The sunset bathes everything in gold, and I would not want to be anywhere else right now.

Transport has become a real problem for most Zimbabweans. Fuel shortages cripple minibuses and even proper buses, which provide the backbone of the public transport system.

There is of course the black market, but price controls have also been slapped on transport, and I see many minibuses stopped at roadblocks for the police to check with passengers how much they were charged.

When public buses break down, there is usually no money to repair them. Unsurprisingly, many minibuses are no longer bothering to transport people, and public buses are unable to pick up the load.

I meet a nurse working at the hospital in the nearest town, about six kilometres away. Every day, she has to walk or hitchhike to work. The hospital can no longer rely on a reliable water and power supply, and patients are transferred to Harare for surgery.

Today, the nurse has to make the trip. But the hospital-s ambulances broke down a while ago and have not been repaired. So the patients have been loaded at the back of a pickup truck for the two-hour journey. I feel lucky driving my rental car.

Hitchhiking has become a national phenomenon. In Harare, crowds of commuters stand by the side of the road in the evening, hoping for a ride. It can take hours to go to, and come back from work.

My local colleague lives half an hour outside of Harare. I pick him up every morning and drop him at night. On the way to town, I give a ride to some of his stranded neighbours as well. People jump on any pickup truck that slows down, and squeeze in the back.

Outside of town, transport is even more of a headache. In rural Mashonaland, I see people walking by the side of the road, waving for cars to stop.

The few buses that run are bursting at the seams. Besides queuing up, Zimbabweans now spend hours walking and hoping for transport.

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