Zimbabwe’s jungle drums talk about beef

In July 2007, Robert Mugabe was alerted to the fact that his very own personal possession, Zimbabwe,
was experiencing runaway inflation and this inflation directly
threatened Mugabe’s grip on power. Mugabe always reacts badly if anyone
threatens his power.

“Inflation?” he mumbled through his false teeth, “That’s when prices keep going up too much, isn’t it, Gideon?”

And in his grizzled wisdom he did what he does best: Bash
it into obedience! Kill it if necessary! So (using his hapless fool of
a Minister as a messenger) he imposed a price reduction on a whole
bunch of basic necessities, and one of them of course, is beef.

Immediately, half-price beef and other meat disappear from
all the supermarkets and butcheries. But the shops cannot purchase any
replacement stock even if they wanted to sell it at a loss, because the
owners of livestock don’t want to sell their beasts for peanuts.

This situation slowly becomes apparent to the ruler in his
palace, when his party faithful start whinging that there’s no nyama
[meat] to go with their food-aid-donation sadza [maize meal].

Clearly something Must Be Done. So Mugabe orders the
state-owned butcheries - the CSC - to go forth and find cattle, and
take them by force if necessary. It’s all a matter of state security,
as usual.

The employees of the CSC run around and manage to find some
diesel for their cattle trucks, and head down the pot-holed road, out
to the country to look for slaughter animals. They don’t find any
decent mombes [cattle] because of course, most of the ranchers have
been evicted from their farms and the national herd is now also
history. Which is why the CSC with its modern EU-approved abattoirs, is
in mothballs most of the time. But back to the story.

The CSC staff turn off the road somewhere near
Featherstone, looking for cattle from the ‘povo’ [poor] - Mugabe’s
rural supporters. After a while they see some cattle in a pen next to
the road. The cattle pen is equipped with a loading ramp - what luck.
On enquiry they find that the cattle belong to a local headman, and are
awaiting collection by a private buyer.

“Don’t you know it’s illegal to sell cattle privately?” cry the CSC men, “You have to sell them to us.”

And they start to load the mombes into the truck. The
herdsman sends a runner to fetch the headman. The CSC men say the
headman will get the approved government price for beef. A crowd of
onlookers starts to gather. The CSC men produce an official receipt and
try to get the herdsman to sign it. The procedure is that the cattle
will be paid for by the kilogram, after the CSC has weighed, graded and
processed each beast.

The headman then arrives, understandably concerned and more
than a little bit angry. The crowd watches with interest as he starts a
shouting match with the CSC employees. Some onlookers are amused, some
are resentful but all just stand by and watch. This is the Government
after all, and you don’t argue or there may be trouble from masoljers.
Besides, everyone knows that the chiefs are getting plenty from the
Government every month - huge salaries and even 4x4s and Benzes. So if
Government supports the chiefs, the chiefs will do what the Government
wants, won’t they? One hand washes the other, it is a well known fact.
The bystanders exchange views among themselves.

Finally the headman has had enough. He turns to the crowd
and he is shouting, “Macomrades, I am speaking now, listen to me!
People from the CSC want to take my cattle. My beasts are not for sale
but these they say the Government has ordered this thing. So I must
sell to them. But the price they are telling me is rubbish. Now what I
say to you is this: if they steal my cattle today, then tomorrow they
will come and steal yours! Is that what you
want?”

This the crowd can and does understand. Suddenly everyone is angry.

Someone starts pulling the loading gates open. The CSC men
are grabbed and pushed around and the cattle are driven back out, down
the ramp. Someone brings a burning log from the herdsman’s campfire and
waves it in the air. The mob sets fire to the cattle truck, and it
burns right down to the chassis. When the police arrive there are no
cattle anywhere, and nobody but the CSC driver left to tell the tale.