Dear Family and Friends,
In three days time Zimbabwe celebrates 36 years of Independence. Take a ride with me and see what I see in typical small town Zimbabwe.
It’s been over ten years since the local council did any maintenance to the road I live on despite repeated written and verbal requests. The gullies are deep, storm drains swallowed, corners buried in sand. One block along, the road sides are littered with piles of dumped garbage: disposable nappies, bottles, tins, bags, glass. Repeated written and verbal requests to the local council to clear the garbage have yielded nothing.
I venture onto the main road with my heart in my mouth. The grass is over two metres tall on the corner and it is impossible to see if anyone is coming. The tar is a maze of potholes and so you weave, swerve and zig zag, often driving on the wrong side of the road to avoid the holes and save your tyres.
The banks have run out of cash and outside the Post Office Savings Bank where many pensioners and civil servants have accounts, at least a hundred people stand in a winding queue across the car park. They are waiting to try and withdraw their own money from the bank but every day they are told: try tomorrow, the same thing all the banks are saying. 36 years after Independence Zimbabwe doesn’t even have its own currency and now we’ve run out of real US dollar bank notes: our own US dollar bank notes that we deposited in our own accounts. Everyone’s asking: where’s our money gone?