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Christmas
in a place called Grim
Sunday
Times (SA)
December 22, 2007
http://www.thetimes.co.za/PrintEdition/Insight/Article.aspx?id=667183
With only his
coat for protection from the driving rain, Kuda Rombera huddles
into the cold, muddy pavement.
Alternately
lying down and squatting for some respite, the primary school teacher
patiently counts down the hours to 8am.
For it will
signal the opening of Stanbic Bank - and, with luck, provide him
with a solution to his Christmas nightmare.
"I must
be the first bird or else I might not be able to travel," says
the 36-year-old father of four of his decision to camp outside the
bank on Wednesday night. "I have decided to hibernate at my
rural home because in town things are unbearable."
What Rombera
needs is simple: to withdraw some of his own, hard-earned savings
to prepare for Christmas.
But in today's
Zimbabwe - a Zimbabwe battered by Monopoly money thanks to record
inflation, empty supermarkets and blackouts - Rombera, like millions
of others, is finding it a mission impossible.
Repeated trips
to the bank - including one on Tuesday that came to nought when
the bank ran out of cash - failed to net Rombera the Z50-million
he needs for transport to his rural home in Masvingo, about 350km
from Harare.
Hence his desperate
decision to camp outside the bank.
"I can't
afford spending the holidays here in town where there are shortages
of everything and, apart from that, things are expensive. At least
in the rural areas people are not fancy," he says.
Rombera says
the Z50- million he wants to withdraw - the maximum he can - will
just be enough to cover his and his children's Z10-million-a- head
tickets for the trip to Masvingo.
His wife, Edna,
is already there, having made the trek when schools closed in the
first week of December.
But other than
the comfort of home, this is not a Christmas that Rombera is looking
forward to.
There will be
no new clothes, groceries or Christmas presents for anyone - let
alone his four children.
For this, cash
shortages are not to blame, but the general economic hardships facing
the country.
"I have
a goat at home. This is what I will slaughter for my family,"
says Rombera. "Christmas is now just a name. We can't celebrate
with this suffering."
Rombera, who
supplements his meagre monthly salary of about 24- million by selling
sweets to pupils at his school, says he will hawk some grain he
has been storing since the last harvest to fund his family's return
trip.
It is all a
far cry from Christmases past.
Eight years
ago, he spent the festive season wining and dining with colleagues
in Harare. This year, he will spend his time tilling his family's
plot as it provides an additional source of food and income.
But by far the
worst is knowing that the magic of Christmas has forever been destroyed
for his children.
"My kids
know that they have to forego new clothes and other goods they used
to enjoy about eight years ago when things were normal," he
says sadly.
Next to Rombera,
Cecilia Mafu, a municipal police officer with the Harare City Council,
is in slightly better spirits despite her country's fraught circumstances.
She sarcastically
suggests that the authorities should have postponed Christmas.
Mafu, who earns
20- million a month, is queueing for money for last-minute shopping.
She says that while she cannot afford to shop at department stores
, she intends going to Mbare Musika Market , which sells second-hand
clothing mostly from Mozambique and the Democratic Republic of Congo
, to buy jeans for her three boys.
Mafu is still
scratching her head as to where to get food for her Christmas dinner.
"God knows
where I will get the basics, but I hope to get some economy beef
from a back-yard butcher in our township," she says.
With chicken
costing up to Z10-million a bird, Mafu is not expecting to lay on
a feast, just enough to provide her family with a square meal of
sadza, meat and green vegetables.
While Mafu is
talking, a smartly dressed passer-by loudly decries the misrule
that has destroyed the joy of Christmas.
"What we
need," she intones, " is political change. Now we are
being made to forego Christmas because of politics."
Two kilometres
from the bank queue, Gabriel Shoko is jostling with about
1000 others as he tries to find a way into TM Supermarket .
"I heard
there was bread and joined the queue," says the 25-year old
accountant with a merchant bank. "I might be able to bag a
few items for Christmas.
"We are
now like hunters and gatherers."
Usually Shoko
hosts a party on New Year's Eve, but 2008 will be ushering in more
than the new year for the accountant.
"I think
I will work at my small plot planting trees for firewood for resale
in Harare. Remember there is no electricity in most townships."
Another person
who has had to change her plans is Ntombizodwa Sibanda, a financial
services manager . She has shelved plans to visit her family in
Bulawayo because of the water shortages crippling the city.
"I could
not imagine spending the whole festive season in Bulawayo without
bathing," says Sibanda. "I am stuck in the capital. At
least there is water here."
Water. And lights.
For the ever-prepared
Sibanda has also stocked up on enough candles to avoid having to
spend Christmas in the dark. Electricity is out for about 20 hours
every day in the cities due to Zimbabwe's inability to afford to
buy all the electricity it needs .
"The fridge
was long switched off, so I don't have to worry about that,"
says Sibanda. " I have enough candles and dried food to keep
me going for a week."
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