Dear Cabinet and Politburo members
COMRADES, I have never felt as insulted in my whole long, fruitful and satisfying life as I felt this week when some skunks in the West arm-twisted the leadership of the World Health Organisation into illegally rescinding my appointment as the body’s global goodwill ambassador for non-communicable diseases.
I have to be honest with you, my Cdes, I was really miffed by this mischief, and for a moment, I wanted to leave the UN and therefore all its agencies in a huff, but being the statesman that I am known to be, I then realised that I could not foolishly score a cheap own goal by playing into the trap that the enemy had set for me.
I have been exposed to untold ridicule in the past, but not to this level. Surely, how could some people — including Zimbabweans that I almost single-handedly liberated for that matter — rejoice at this mischief by claiming that outside my own party, I am a brand associated with hunger, racism, corruption, repression, plunder and misrule-writ-large? You, Cdes, who are very close to me know the truth…that if it were not for me, by now there would be no country to talk of, yet the very same people that one has dedicated his entire life to serving thank him by barbing insults. Anyway, I take solace in that the same was said about Jesus Christ, the son of God himself, when he had been sent by his Father to save the world, so I am not at all surprised that so much bad is said about me. If anything, this is confirmation that I am doing things right and this naturally upsets the West who for centuries have tried to promote the stereotypical hogwash that blacks — Africans in particular — are inferior human beings.
My first reaction to this insult was naturally that of righteous anger—feeling treated badly for no apparent reason and I wanted my country to have nothing at all to do with the UN and any of its agencies ever again! Those who grew up with me know this is what I used to do when I was young… separating my grandfather’s cattle from the communal herd when I could not agree with other boys. This is very true. You remember what I did when the “Commonwealth” tried to overplay its hand? But in this case, after sleeping over it, I then realised that if I were to react to this insult in my trademark way by angrily pulling out of the UN, that would be a foolish move… our sages say makudo haaramwirwe munda… meaning it’s folly for an angry farmer to abandon a maize field to baboons. That would not be any wiser than a grasshopper that kicks off its hind legs to spite pesky ants. I would have played into the hands of the West that is already desperate to see my back. To them it would be good riddance! I cannot afford to give those sanctimonious prigs a free reign in this world. Never, ever! That would be a great disservice to the developing world, for which I have become the only dependable voice of resistance, so I resolved to behave in a way expected of the mature statesman that I am… not dignifying the insult by simply ignoring it out of existence. That way, I don’t play into the hands of my detractors to the disadvantage of the silent majority in this world that depends on my leadership.
If the unvarnished truth is to be said, I don’t need any one to appoint me goodwill ambassador at all, for I am naturally one.
My leadership qualities have endeared me to the oppressed majority the world over and every September, when I address the UN General Assembly, the whole world grinds to a halt. So powerful and relevant are my speeches that imperialist television stations such as BBC and CNN have been ordered by their handlers to black me out, only showing me in bad light when they can.
In fact, I realised that if I were to leave the UN, the global body would become poorer without a leader of my ilk.
The UN reforms that I am championing are best pushed from within, not without, that global platform. If I were to leave, it is not the West that loses, but the ordinary people who are supposed to immensely benefit from my rare leadership skills.
As a devout Christian, all I can do is just forgive my detractors. If anything, I need to pray for them so that maybe one day they may see the light.
. . . AND THE NOTEBOOK
Although Dr CZ is the only certified patriot in the hereabouts, he cannot help but join those totemless souls that were this week celebrating their tails off following the historic decision by the World Health Organisation (WHO) to disappoint. Whatever the reasons and or excuses for this disappointment, they don’t matter. The most important thing is that this is one of the best decisions ever made by the United Nations (UN) or any of its agencies in the last 72 years.
Charity should always start at home. Have we paid our measly contributions to the UN yet? Our health facilities and personnel are majority funded by international aid organisations and the various levies that we pride ourselves in being trendsetters never really reach the intended beneficiaries.
Primitive diseases such as cholera and typhoid are still killing people in Zimbabwe in this 21st Century, while those who purport to be the leaders of the country are failing to lead by example, instead fleeing the country whenever they feel slightly off-colour, because they know without a residuum of doubt that the sorry apologies they have for hospitals are nothing but certifiable mortuaries. This whole idea of goodwill ambassadors makes no sense because ambassadors are expected to represent the best. One certainly cannot represent that which does not exist in their own world.
Dr CZ loved the official confusion that flowed from this debacle. A daily paper had dutifully announced, with customary pomp and fanfare, the appointment and we are sure that the group was in the process of organising a bumper supplement to celebrate this “iconic” global achievement. Then when the disappointment came, the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation went on to quote chastened presidential spokesman, Cde George Charamba, distancing his boss from the purported appointment and subsequent welcome disappointment. Dr CZ understood that the brother had found himself in a rather sticky situation in which he had to at least waffle something. People wonder why a hangman wears masks when executing his duties. Some jobs tend to be degrading to those who have taken them up. It is not just prostitution that is degrading.
The minister at the centre of this entire debacle, Cde Walter Mzembi, should be regretting the day he decided to cease being an elevator and escalator technician to try his luck in the murky waters of politics.
Slowly, but surely, the fraudulent scandal that is Command Agriculture is being exposed for the failure that it was. For several months now, Zimbos have been fed on a rich diet of lies as regard the success of this much-noised programme. They were told that the programme was the mother of all successes and it was going to be replicated in all the other sub-sectors of agriculture in this country. Now it is emerging that trucks are smuggling hundreds of thousands of tons of maize into the country every night from Zambia and Mozambique to cover up for this criminal lie about how an overwhelming success the Command Agriculture programme was. Dr CZ wonders if ever there is just one thing that this sorry apology for a government will ever do right. Just one!
Finally, the notorious fake Chief Negomo, whose real name is Luscious Chitsinde, last week lost his false claim to the chieftainship after the Mashonaland Central provincial assembly of the Chiefs’ Council resolved that the throne rightly belonged to the Gweshe family.
The meeting reportedly resolved to install David Gweshe as the substantive Chief Negomo.
This sadly brings to an abrupt end, a lucrative extortion career for Chitsinde, a ruling party goon who tormented many, including former prime minister, Morgan Tsvangirai and his near in-laws, the Karimatsenga family.
Only last month, Chitsinde was in the news for sending his messenger to demand a beast as fine from a widow whose son had committed suicide… the messenger was already at the homestead with ready cattle buyers before the body of the deceased was brought down from the tree where it was dangling!
We now pray and hope all his victims will be queuing up to recover everything the fraudster took away from them. We also pray and hope that the same fate will not happen to the life president of the Zimbabwe Chiefs’ Council, Cde Fortune Charumbira, the ruling party functionary whose claim to the chieftainship is also subject to a ferocious dispute. And many more whose claims to power are also subjects of emotive debate!
To anyone who will read Ken Mufuka’s book, The Life and Times, this should certainly sound very familiar to many Zimbos, especially those like Dr CZ and others, that have had some dalliance with some misruling cults.
Arthur Koestler, in his book, Darkness at Noon, explains the psychology of those Russian ministers who were falsely accused of treason, confessed, and accepted their fate. Rubashov, one of the high-ranking communists accused of treason, while he awaits execution, recalls the ironies and contradictions of his life. He cannot now hope for mercy from any quarter, and he remembers how he had been responsible for the termination of a seventeen-year-old revolutionary, Richard, and his expectant wife. The two had lived for the revolution, avoiding arrest by moving their shelter from one place to another. Rubashov remembered these words, as he left the young revolutionary to his death. “Comrade, you cannot denounce me. I am not an enemy of the party; you can’t throw me to the wolves, comrade.” Rubashov had said nothing, took a taxi, leaving the young man to his cruel fate. The young man’s life was forfeit, despite his loyalty. Koestler was writing about the Stalin purges of 1933.
Rubashov’s turn had come; had just been beaten up by the system which he himself was part of. Anytime, the torture would resume. This time he expected the “steam bath” treatment. The moral of the story is that Rubashov, like others before him, had gladly carried out similar betrayals of their comrades at the request of Stalin. When their turn came, they knew that their comrades would happily betray them. In fact, the prisoner in Room 406, who had been placed there at Rubashov’s request, rejoiced when he saw that Rubashov was now getting his just desert.