Dear All
I write from a troubled country after the death of our former President of 37 years. I was numb when I heard the news of Mugabe's death early on the morning of 6 September: his death was irrelevant to where we now are as a country. His mantle was already handed on in the jubilant and heady days of the coup in November 2017. We celebrated then. The release was tremendous.
Tragically, in the darkening days of September 2019, nearly 2 years on, there is no such feeling of release. In fact I have yet to meet anyone living here under the dark oppressive atmosphere of his successor, who is either jubilant or in mourning. The electricity cuts that plunge everyone into darkness for the vast majority of each day and night, the straggling fuel queues, the water shortages stretching to months and years for many homes, the collapse of health and education, the hyper inflation, the massive hunger, the injustices, the fear - these are things that dominate the lives of the people of Zimbabwe at this time.
I have been interviewed many times on radio, television and for the print media during the intervening days and have been asked again how I feel about Mugabe’s death. The feeling hasn’t changed. I am numb. His death is irrelevant to us.
“But you suffered so much under him! You were tortured, dispossessed, persecuted! You lost your home and everything you owned! You lost family and friends. He murdered your father-in-law. You must feel something!”
When pressed in that way I have to admit I do feel something. I feel sad. I am sad that a man could choose to do such horrible things for so long to so many. He had the choice to do great good - and the goodwill of the whole world to do it. Instead he chose to do great evil: violence, torture, genocide, dispossession, injustice… this is his record. He destroyed so much and killed so many.