Maravi

(TALKZIMBABWE) Western media reports on Zimbabwe are 'mere puff'

Western media reports on Zimbabwe are 'mere puff'
By: Susan Nyadire
Posted: Wednesday, November 3, 2010 5:07 am

I LEFT Zimbabwe at the tender age of thirteen for the United States when my dad won the UN Green Card Visa Lottery in the early 1990s.

I cannot claim to know much about Zimbabwe, except through my scant memory of my childhood friend whom I affectionately called 'Nomu'. I think she was called Nomsa, if my recollection can be relied on. I also remember a boy called Musa whom I had a crash on! Where are you Musa?

You can imagine how devastated I was when I heard from my mother that we would be leaving Zimbabwe to settle in the U.S. I thought this was a joke, I would never see my friends or my crash, Musa. Everybody else was jubilant, I was upset, hurt and holed up in a little corner. I don't know if I was heartbroken. My heart was still too tender to be broken.

These memories faded with each year that passed after we had settled in a little place called Ripon, Wisconsin in the U.S. Those familiar with the U.S. will know that Ripon is virtually unknown. It has a population of just over 6,000 people and is a namesake of another city by the same name in North Yorkshire in England.

Rumor has it that the first ever Republican Party meeting was held in Ripon; or that the party was born here.

My life was very sheltered, growing up in such a small secluded and sheltered place; dominated by the Republican Party and traditionally very American, whatever that means.

As I said earlier, Ripon is in Wisonsin, north-central United States and is considered part of the Midwest.

Wisconsin is one of the few states that took a principled stance against Slavery.

It is well known for its abolitionist stance, being the center of Northern abolitionism.

As a Black African woman, I was proud of growing up in this area with such a rich history.

However, for over a decade, I was embarassed to say I came from Zimbabwe. Everything I heard and read about the country made me hate myself, and the country I was from.

I was embarassed to discuss my origins; and people in America worry less about geneaology; especially the Black-Americans. It is almost a futile process to trace one's origins, unless you are a recent immigrant. Others simply adopt a country they want like Liberia, Ghana or Nigeria and say that's where they are from.

So my embarassment was served very well. I never had to discuss my origin. I was simply "a proud African-American" -- a down low descendant of the slave population, to many unsuspecting people. No-one questioned my origin, and I did not discuss it.

The little news I heard about Zimbabwe was via cable and through discussions with my mother and father or with relatives who visited us very rarely; or we visited every Thanksgiving.

Occassionally I would catch the online BBC reports on Zimbabwe; or listen to VOA broadcasts on the country. This was all in secrecy.

I got disgusted by what I heard and read, and was angry with politicians, especially from Zanu-PF, who were portrayed as evil.

So when my father broke the news that we would be visiting Zimbabwe as a family this year to see where my grandparents were buried; I was apprehensive about the idea. I did not want to go to the "hell hole"; but my father was having none of it.

We left on August 15, 2010 and arrived on a sunny, bright Monday morning.

I was shocked to see 'real people' and real business at Harare International Airport.

Although it was a small airport, compared to JFK where we took off from and Johannesburg where we changed flights, there was still the same level of professionalism and every aspect of a modern day airport ; from baggage handling to checkout.

My pocket book was never searched as I had expected and I was not strip-searched as I had heard would happen to women. The staff were courteous, professional and friendly. One guy was even more friendly than I expected as he asked for my number. I gave him a wrong U.S. number of course.

My uncle, who picked us up from the airport, had a 4x4 truck, a Range Rover. He was very jovial and joked with me in his pleasant deep accent I remembered from the telephone conversations. He looked slightly thinner than I had expected him to. My dad looked less healthy with his belly fat. By the way he stared at my father, I could tell he wanted to trade his slender, fit body for my father's; one that spends hours in front of the computer back in the U.S.

On our way to Greendale, where my uncle lives, we were delayed for about five minutes when Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai's six truck marked motorcade passed; with more fanfare than even President Obama would have.

This was my first introduction to "politics in Zimbabwe" or politricks. I would never have imagined that the prime minister would have such an honor bestowed on him given the caliber of reports we receive here in the U.S. about Zimbabwe.

On one of the days during our stay we went to a place called Newlands Shopping Centre. I was shocked to see so many white people "going about their business". I never expected to see white people, dressed so well and driving the best cars. I expected to see one or two, who had resisted "Mugabe's intransigency", as the media would say.

Over the course of my stay, I would visit places like Sam Levy's Vilage, Arundel, Avondale, Chisipite and Mount Pleasant; with the same experience.

I also discovered that white and black people mingled as much as they do here in the U.S. and one would almost forget that they are in "Mugabe land" -- where white people are supposed to be targeted and frowned upon.

The level of affluence among the white community was shocking. They live in the Northern surburbs and run businesses in Harare city and in the northern surburbs. They own hotels, lodges, pubs and many other businesses and attend the Borrowdale races and play golf in the country.

They go about their normal business like everybody else.

When we went to the Southern surburbs, the situation was different.

I travelled to Mbare, Highfields, Glen Norah and Glen View to see my relatives and was pleasantly surprised by the disparity in living standards. Although there were a lot of Black people in the northern surburbs "living large", as they said in local parlance, there were millions that still had to see the fruits of independence.

In my next instalment, I will expand on these issues; but I have to point out that all the news reports I read in-country were markedly different from the western ones. The Zimbabwe I experienced was markedly different from the one that "exists" in cyberspace.

The "dead country" is very much alive and vivid; and people are going on with their normal business, enjoying the sunshine and the great food, and great race relations.

I do not mean to underplay the politics in the country. I am sure there's some tension and the situation I witnessed among Black people especially in the southern surburbs of Harare has to be improved. But it is no different from the tension we are experiencing here in the U.S. and the plight of black people in places like North Carolina, New York, LA, and in the deep South.

There are foreclosures here and murder every five minutes and a drug deal happening around the corner from where I live.

I heard stories of people who had, only a year ago, died of cholera and other curable diseases in these areas that I visited.

These issues are discussed in my next piece; but I felt the need to dispel the myth that Zimbabwe is "dead".

I also wanted to dispel the myth that Mr Tsvangirai is a victim in Zimbabwe. He is an unreachable character who has become pompous and has all the trappings of power; according to relatives I visited.

They say he is "untouchable" and has forgotten about the people. They say his people only "come to see us when they want our votes, but forget about us during these times".

When we left Harare for Bulawayo, I was convinced that things were not as bad as they are portrayed. There is some need for change; but change that helps black people to lift themselves out of poverty.

There are definitely no people dying on the streets or heavy police presence as reported on various internet sites.

There are a lot of toll gates and a lot of old cars on the streets; but none of the 'guns and goons' that we hear of everyday; or any whiff of the "firing squad".

I had my rude awakening; and realised that I was just another Gamuchirai Nhengu, who simply had no clue about politics and society in Zimbabwe, but was a victim of western propaganda that portrays Africa as the "Dark Continent".

Surprisingly, there were a lot of foreigners roaming the streets of Harare; conspicuous by their American, British, Canadian and New Zealand accents. I wondered if they were thinking what I was thinking about western media reports: "mere puff".

________________________
Susan Nyadire is a High School teacher in Wisconsin, U.S. She teaches mainly sophomore and junior students. She can be contacted via: susannyd@yahoo.com

Labels: INTERNATIONAL MEDIA, PROPAGANDA

posted by MrK @ 6:25 AM