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Zimbabwe
diary: Friday - The haemorrhaging of a nation
The Economist
September 21, 2007
http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=9821376&pub=170907
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Monday's Zimbabwe diary
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Tuesday's Zimbabwe diary
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Thursday's Zimbabwe diary
I AM back at
the airport, waiting for my plane home. There is no electricity
at the airport today, and only the computers at the check-in desks
are powered by a generator.
It is the middle of the
day, but Harare-s modern, swish airport is in semi darkness.
All the drinks on offer are warm, and chocolate bars are melting.
Worse, there is no water either, so toilets are clogged up and unusable.
Electricity comes back before I take off, but water does not.
Zimbabwe-s power
plants are struggling, unable to import coal or spare parts for
lack of foreign exchange. Neighbouring countries are not getting
paid on time by the local power company, and some of them are also
facing tight power supply.
So what they send is
not enough to meet Zimbabwe-s needs. Generators are an alternative,
but they need diesel, which for most people is also hard to come
by legally.
Water is becoming a serious
issue. I hear that the situation is particularly severe in Bulawayo,
the country-s second largest city, where fears of cholera
are starting to surface.
Around Harare, water
seems to run sometimes—mostly at night—and some people
have installed containers in their backyards to store it. A few
posh neighbourhoods enjoy uninterrupted supply, though.
Zimbabweans who used
to be middle class have stumbled into poverty. But even with little
water and electricity, they somehow manage to wear perfectly ironed
shirts.
I have met many of them
in Johannesburg, working as waiters. Zimbabwean nannies have also
become very popular in South Africa.
President Robert Mugabe
was once praised for spending much money and attention on the country-s
education. It was the best in the region and produced armies of
well-educated professionals. But the country is losing its people
and its brains. An estimated 3m are said to have left already—although
it is hard to know for sure—mostly to neighbouring South Africa.
Thousands cross the border
legally every day, but many jump the fence and are trapped into
illegality and exploitation. An association in Johannesburg has
told me that there are over 10,000 Zimbabwean teachers in South
Africa. Most of them are working as waiters, security guards or
gardeners.
I buy a lukewarm Coke
from a stand at the airport. The shopkeeper asks me where I live.
Johannesburg, I say. "Can you give me a job?" he immediately
asks. "I can do anything. What about gardening? Do you need
a gardener?" I don-t unfortunately. He does not give
up. "What about my sister?" he then asks. "She
is an excellent secretary." I can only wish him good luck,
which feels painfully inadequate.
Then I once again fly
off to the comforts of South Africa, as always leaving with some
regret, but with a great deal of relief.
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