7 / 23 / 09

Tuesday was Angela’s birthday (Brian’s wife) and today is his son’s birthday. So Brian is obviously a bit anxious to get home. We spent Wednesday cleaning up some of the logistical details, getting Dave to the airport so he can begin his vacation, and making a stop for trinkets. The craftsmanship in Zimbabwe is noticeably better than what I’ve seen in Zambia.

We stop for lunch at a diner that is mainly patronized by white citizens of Harare. Everyone has the broasted half-chicken and chips. Bill, you would love the place, not only for the food, but the non-stop networking and business that is taking place. It’s a great time for Brian; he meets childhood friends, classmates from his university days in South Africa and others he used to do business with years before.

One of Brian’s friends, Craig, is a former professional cyclist and currently manages a safari service that spans much of southern Africa. Craig is overjoyed by the WBR bike and wants to expand media coverage by riding it to Johannesburg; or since health care is a primary use of the bike, by carrying another friend on the back over the mountains and to the coast of Mozambique. He’s completely nonplussed by the fact the bike has no gears and weighs a hefty 55 lbs. Craig’s energy and enthusiasm are encouraging for the entire benefit of starting operations in Zimbabwe. Did I mention that I really like Brian’s circle of friends?

The last item for Wednesday is finding assemblers to put the bikes together when the shipment arrives next month. Craig has already given us a good start. He and his father used to own a bicycle shop and have introduced Brian to their former chief mechanic and his fellow employees. These four will form the core of Zimbabwe’s assembly team. That evening we attempt to track down a half-dozen more. We drive into one of the neighborhoods and to a church for the meeting. The neighborhood is a collection of one room houses, each fenced from the other, but without the imposing walls that mark more affluent areas. Laundry hangs everywhere and the street is full of people coming home from work and school, it is close to sunset.

Catholic Church in Harare compound

The men never show up, but I take time to visit the new Catholic church that someone has built for the people. The church is vast in comparison to the other buildings in the area, very new and open. There is a well outside that serves the entire neighborhood (due to the failing municipal system). Inside the church is simple and the artwork is rustic. While the depiction of Christ has a similar bias as those in the west, I’m most curious about the same style of expression for the Romans.

6: Veronica wipes the face of Christ

All in all, it is a very tranquil setting. When I come out, Brian is talking with an elder woman who works at the church as a care-giver. The former church now serves as an orphanage and focal point for training others who go out and serve the community’s sick – predominantly those with HIV/AIDS and cholera. Cholera is of special concern in Zimbabwe due to the failure of the water systems and entire areas living off of common ground water supplies – like here at the church. It’s a terrible irony and one more reason for Mugabe to go quickly.

Thursday Brian and I make two quick stops to meet a man to assist Brian with the bicycle assembly and the World Vision HQ. After dropping off the last bicycle for their inspection we have a conversation with a man who is about to move to the NGOs world offices – in Federal Way, just 10 miles from my house. The gentleman is Zambian by birth and has worked all over Africa. We discuss the different housing situation he will face. No, he probably won’t find a five bedroom home for $800 / month. I didn’t mention that not only will his rent double or treble, but that amount also comes without gardeners or maid service.

Next we start the drive back to Lusaka. Harare is built on a high rise of an ancient mountain. Evidence is everywhere in the form of large formations of rocks that were visible at the church and surrounding the city.

Some are stacked 40’ high or more

During the drive I get some of Brian’s personal / professional history. His wife, Angela, grew up on a farm and her parents were able to convince Brian that farming was a great way of life. The couple moved into a converted dairy on the family farm, a large commercial enterprise just west of Harare. The farm consisted of the two main homes, shops, machine sheds and a number of homes for the workers. Unlike some of the villages in the area, every building had power and access to sewer and water.

About 10 years ago, Brian and his in-laws were forced to evict some squatters that had followed a medicine man onto the property and were interfering with the work of the farm. Shortly after, Mugabe began the process of “indigenizing” the farms in Zimbabwe. The confrontation and eviction apparently highlighted Brian and his family as people hostile to the indigenous people of Zimbabwe, their farm was the first to be nationalized by veterans of the civil war. How? It started by veterans coming to the farm and threatening the family, several times Brian stood face to face with several soldiers brandishing weapons and demanding he leave the farm. Each time, the farm’s workers came to his defence, at times even stepping in front of the leveled rifles. Eventually the threats and harassment became too much. Brian moved his family to Zambia, while Angela’s parents retired to Capetown. Since the farm was seen as the property of Zimbabwe, the families were not allowed to take anything with them. They were forced to start completely over.

After taking over the farm, the “settlers” as they are called, began to harvest the farm for its value. They did not harvest the plants, but the equipment. Tractors, generators, machining equipment were sold for their face value, eliminating the intrinsic value of the items to the farm as a going concern. The most ironic aspect of this process was the sale of the irrigation system. The aluminum pipes were dug up and sold to a business that makes handles for caskets. Material that was a source of life was now used to support death. It was a very real harbringer of what was to come to Zimbabwe from the entire indegenization process. As the farms were destroyed, so was the source of capital for the country and taxes for the government. Commercial farming represented over 50% of Zimbabwe’s GDP, and was overwhelmingly supported by minority white farmers. As that source of wealth was transferred to the veterans and essentially left fallow, the economy began to collapse. Without the tax base, the country entered a period of hyper-inflation, printing cash to pay it’s bills. Eventually the collapse, and threats of nationalization led to the fall of the mining industry as well. For ten years Zimbabwe has been living off the bones of a once vibrant economy. Today, nearly all assistance is passed through NGOs established in the country.

The story continues in the same vein. Just last year, prior to the election, Mugabe forced a nationalization plan through the congress. International businesses and organizations must establish a time-table for the indigenization of the entity. Even as WBR investigated incorporating in Harare, we were told the laws require a 35% stake by an indigenous person, with plans for eventual 51% ownership. How these shares are transferred is not a concern, according to Mugabe the wealth must be transferred. It is little wonder that foreign investment is scarce.

Another item that is scarce in this part of the world is safe truck drivers. As we approached the escarpment overlooking the Zambezi, we started to pass trucks broken down in the middle of the road, and a few that were overturned. Eventually I counted 4 trucks completely upside down and another half dozen that simply could not manage to climb one more hill. Only one wreck was surrounded by anyone attempting to provide assistance or remove the barrier. The rest were completely abandoned. At the top of the escarpment we stopped to take a picture of the valley, its an incredible view

The distance hides the other side of the valley 50 miles away

I know you want a picture of Brian, the next king of bicycles in Africa:

Brian Berkhout

The rest of the trip was uneventful. We never stopped for food; there was none to be had. And Brian has a birthday party to attend. We only stop at the border to process the paperwork – Brian takes care of that while I hang outside with the baboon