Behind the church premises where I live, in a quiet back street,
garbage is piling up. Often I see men, unkempt, in old rags, going
through this waste material and picking out items that they let
disappear in old fertiliser bags. Since this garbage is what people
throw away that are barely surviving in their poverty, one would
expect there is nothing of any use to anyone to be found. Not so. Even
the smallest scrap of sadza is being picked up.
The City Council is evicting widows and their families from a block of
flats — very crammed, dirty, overflowing with sewage — which is
reserved for city police. Their husbands left work or died, so the
dependents or widows have to leave. All very legal. But causing great
hardship anyway.
Where are they supposed to go? This was the great
problem of Mbare even before Independence. Life was very insecure
then: once out of a job you also lost your house. For some life has
not changed much since then.
'Housing for all by the year 2000'. The old advertising spot still
echoes in my mind. Aren't the politicians who made these false
promises feeling ashamed, and yet continue to make promises, promises?
How can they live with themselves? Have they silenced, killed their
consciences if they ever had any?
And those who have so little hope
left cling to these promises, because no man can live without hope. 'Maybe there will be a unity government tomorrow, then things will
improve ...' Poor fools. There is no hope as long as you put your hope
in totally corrupted people. How many more times do you have to be
fooled before you stop trusting these inveterate liars? There is no
hope unless you give up all false hopes.
Today schools reopen, at least they are supposed to. In fact some do,
some don't. The number of uneducated children will grow. A whole
generation of frustrated, discontented youngsters will hang around our
streets, ready to follow any big-mouth promising them food, beer and
'mbanje' (marijuana).
The great headmaster is not concerned. His
children's education is guaranteed.
Parents lay siege to church
schools to get their children in since government schools remain
closed: no teachers. People think that if they can elbow their way in,
the great calamity our country is in will not touch them.
A young
man, well educated, with several diplomas in his pocket, stole my time
by pestering me about getting funds for doing a course in South
Africa. Not because he needs that course, but merely to get out of
Zimbabwe. The rats are leaving the ship. Everyone is trying to jump
overboard and land somewhere better.
Some 'are lucky', some are not,
they drown. The leaders' selfishness is monstrous, and many follow
their disastrous path.
This week our parish centre was all hustle and bustle. Two workshops
ran parallel, both on how to give care to injured, sick people, one
for youngsters, one for their mothers. Maybe some people do after all
care about one another and show some compassion. Maybe.
This is an excerpt from the In Touch newsletter of Jesuit Communications Zimbabwe.
Fr Oskar Wermter SJ is Parish Priest of Mbare, Harare, and Director of Jesuit Communications in Zimbabwe.