Harare, a beautiful disaster

When someone mentions Harare, what thoughts come to mind?

Impressions are important. Whether we like it or not, the popular view of something carries significant weight. And once a reputation is tarnished, repairing it becomes arduous. Just ask Aziz Ansari.

In a similar vein, a city's reputation precedes itself. If one were to do some research in preparation for a trip to Harare, a likely reputation that you may encounter would go something like this:

Harare is a perfectly blended concoction of everything that defines a dysfunctional city, void of residual value, let alone promise. Decades of neglect, corruption and a failed political system has rendered the once thriving African commercial hub obsolete. And those left traipsing it's broken streets are simply the ones who have been unable to escape. (ChatGPT was not responsible for this use of poetic license).

This reputation was the one I sought to assess upon deciding to visit the city in December 2022.

You may well ask, what was my reason for a trip to Harare? Well a best friend of mine, Fadzayi Mahere, whom I had the pleasure of befriending while studying abroad in 2011, resides there. An accomplished lawyer and political activist, she has achieved a sizable form of grassroots stardom through her relentless messaging for change, as well as garnered the sort of attention from the ruling party that one would prefer to avoid. Familiar with the inside of a jail cell, she is currently facing a trial for which her bail conditions prevent her from travelling abroad. And so, if I was to see my dear friend, it was I who would need to venture north across the Limpopo (between the drafting of this piece and publishing, Fadzayi has been found guilty and is awaiting sentencing).

I last visited Harare in 2006. Back then, the now defunct Zimbabwean dollar was still the accepted form of currency. Evidence of the impending economic collapse was not difficult to find. One needed to simply try and obtain Zimbabwean dollars to realise that all was not well. The black market, which became the standard bearer for foreign currency exchanges when the local currency did collapse, was already alive and well. I recall collecting two shopping bags of 100,000 Zim dollar notes, the largest denomination available at the time. At its inflationary peak in 2009, Zimbabwe's reserve bank was printing 100 trillion dollar bank notes - that's 14 zeros, for the arithmetically challenged. And people living in 2023 like to say "what a time to be alive".

Natural Zimbabwe, and by extension Harare, is an incredibly beautiful place. Igneous granite outcrops dot the quintessential African landscape, peppered with fever trees and pockets of baobabs. The summer skyline merges a blend of scorching sun and threatening clouds, the contrasting beauty tangible.

Despite its conspicuous decline, Harare itself exudes its own form of natural beauty. Tree-lined streets dominate the urban form, staying true to a city plan born out of colonial heritage. At the risk of invoking Helen Zille, one can sense the plan that was envisaged. A grid-like central business district, cascading out into suburban living, with its own ring road to the north (creatively named Harare Drive), resembling the kind often seen in European metropolises such as Paris. Being Africa, large plots dominate the suburbs, with anything between 2,000 to 6,000 square meters being typical. Overseas visitors often comment on the sense of space when they visit Africa. Suburban Harare endorses this.

As much as the trees and ambient temperature seek to provide solace, the visible collapse of human creation yields a constant form of self-correction. One is never fully free to appreciate flora and sky. Glancing below the natural surface reveals the impact that both time and the elements have when infrastructure is neglected. Harare's infrastructure has, unfortunately, been left to fend for itself.

South Africans are struggling to grasp the now-lived reality of loadshedding. For Harare residents, power cuts have been the norm rather than the exception for years.

"Oh wait, they issue you with a timetable there in South Africa?" remarks Fadzayi in a chucklesome tone, as I brandish a screenshot of Eskom Se Push in front of her. "How about 4 to 6 hours of power a day, with no idea when it will come." Fadzayi, like all Zimbabweans of means, has invested heavily in home-based solar generation to mitigate the government's obvious failings. Large plots with plentiful roof-space go a long way to assist, but despite investing thousands of dollars, she is still at the mercy of ZESA (Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority) to maintain full functionality of her household appliances. The sun can only give you so much.

And it is not only electricity that is failing. Water in the capital is highly compromised, in both supply and quality. Yes, perennial droughts and the impact this has on Lake Chivero which supplies Harare has been significant. However, the impact of neglected and aging distribution infrastructure and a dearth of chemicals for treating water, both stemming from an economic reality of a shortage of cash, has rendered an urban water system that is largely collapsed. This has resulted in the obvious consequence of the mass sinking of boreholes, by those that can afford it. In turn, natural wetlands within the city are drying up at an unprecedented rate, exposing land that is actively being taken over by urban subsistence farming and land invasions for housing. If anything, Harare reveals the true nuance of the ecosystem of urban services and what happens when the balance is disturbed.

Despite this blatant lack of essential investment, public money is being spent - just not on what one may consider essential. Traversing the bustling streets of the CBD, we come across a brand new pedestrian bridge, the piece of virgin infrastructure appearing in stark contrast with the crumbling roadside kerbs below it. Mounted prominently in the center of the bridge is a statue of Mbuya, a historical spiritual leader who led a revolt against the 19th century colonial ambitions of Cecil John Rhodes. In an almost farcical move, the original statue had to be remade after the initial version did not accurately reflect the "curvature" of Mbuya's female figure. Sexual objectification is alive and well.

Notwithstanding Mbuya's now attractive figure, what is most striking about the bridge is the absence of pedestrians. Hurried humans scamper between hoards of unforgiving cars below it's intricate steel lattice structure. The irony of this reality seems lost on the local police official, positioned strategically at one of the bridge's entry points. Upon inquiring as to the reason for this lack of functionality, preventing lascivious activity taking place on the bridge was proffered as the reason. This poor over-sexualized bridge can't seem to catch a break.

Needless to say, the Mbuya bridge provides a tangible artefact illustrating much of what is wrong with contemporary Zimbabwe. At its opening, President Mnamgagwa was witnessed tossing bones in honour of the ancestors, and extolling how the edification of a struggle hero would bring much needed economic prosperity to his country. Both alive and deceased wait with baited breath.

One would be forgiven for reading up until now and concluding that Harare, and by extension Zimbabwe, is destined for doom, assuming it has not already reached this final destination. How does one recover a country that has suffered such severe neglect, such wanton looting of the public purse.

And yet, evidence does exist to counter this notion. Perhaps not enough to advocate for a prosperous transformation, but enough to argue for a stabilised trajectory.

At a functional level, the economy is stable. Yes, the country is beholden on foreign currency to maintain economic efficacy. But shelves in shops are full. Petrol stations have gas. Wealthy individuals are persevering with business ventures, creating value and much needed employment. I met professionals who have willingly relinquished comfortable positions overseas to come back home and pursue their entrepreneurial ambitions. One may not always have water and electricity, but one thing Zimbabwe has is opportunity.

At a broader scale, political awareness and a groundswell of support for a burgeoning opposition movement is patently evident, to the point where the ruling party have taken to banning opposition rallies, knowing full well the attendance they garner and momentum they create. General elections are scheduled for July or August of this year. For the first time, opposition activists sense an opportunity that they absolutely must grasp.

Besides their innate resilience, what struck me about Zimbabweans is their unrivaled friendliness. Each individual I met was, at least on appearances, genuinely interested in engaging and sharing. They know their country is viewed as a pariah of the world, and they want to actively transform that view. Most importantly however, they want to stay and stick it out. This trait can only strengthen the case for a Zimbabwe in which, given a workable context, can begin to firstly repair, and beyond that, rebuild.

On the day of my departure, I visited the Harare High Court. Fadzayi was supporting a fellow activist who has been incarcerated without trial for close on nine months. The charge - inciting public violence after raising the ire of Zanu PF by suggesting in a Twitter post that God will come for those who murdered an innocent lady, allegedly bludgeoned to death under the orders of a local Zanu PF leader. On this day, the defense were making a final appeal for the granting of bail, something that had up until then been denied. Both sides presented their arguments - the defense focusing on substantive claims, with the state arguing on procedural grounds. With both sides concluded and court adjourned, I made my way out into the court quadrangle, where I witnessed the defense and state attorneys engaging in amicable conversation, not something I had anticipated given the preceding discourse in court. As both parties said they goodbyes, I witnessed the state attorney grabbing hold of his counterpart's hands and saying "You know the truth. My hands are tied".

Simply put, perhaps this is all Zimbabwe needs. The loosening and untying of hands.