Grace’s latest antics may well be a step too far
The world was treated to a glimpse into the lives of the rich and unhinged when Zimbabwe’s First Lady stormed into a Joburg hotel room and laid into a friend of her sons’ with an extension cord
When Grace Mugabe entered politics in July 2014 and took over as head of the ZanuPF Women’s League, her rise was dismissed as a fluke.
But she has managed to stay the course, proving critics wrong by increasing her political stock.
Using her sharp tongue, she has roundly routed political opponents including Joice Mujuru, the former vice-president, and the war veterans who were once a loyal constituency of President Robert Mugabe’s rule.
Given her political power, few would have imagined that Mugabe would be made vulnerable by Gabriella Engels, a 20-year-old model. She has accused Zimbabwe’s first lady of assaulting her at a Sandton hotel using an extension cord.
The assault risks muddying Mugabe’s ambitions to succeed her husband.
Gary van Staden, a political analyst at NKC African Economics, said Mugabe’s actions in South Africa had provided her enemies in Zanu-PF with “more ammunition” to undermine her ambitions.
“Grace is popular only because of her proximity to the president. Once he goes, she is finished as a political force and will be lucky to stay out of jail or worse,” he said.
Piers Pigou, the Southern Africa director of the International Crisis Group, said: “She is regarded as a divisive and volatile force . . .”
AfriForum’s announcement this week that it was taking on Engels’s case marked the start of what are expected to be months of pressure being piled onto Mugabe.
Prior to her political rise, Mugabe was known for standing by her husband’s side and shopping for Gucci handbags and Salvatore Ferragamo shoes in London.
Some say this underestimation of her has worked to her advantage as she rose from being a typist in the ’90s to becoming presidential spouse.
In an interview to mark his 93rd birthday in February, Robert Mugabe chuckled over his wife’s political agility. He described her as a “strong character”.
But how is it that Mugabe has managed to be a crowd-puller and a controversial figure at the same time? Her strategy in part has been to cast herself as a mother figure. Her supporters have popularised the slogan “munhu wese kuna amai (everyone must support Mother)”.
They don’t question her. She is reported to have splashed out $1.3-million (R17-million) on a diamond ring last year, seized the properties of a Lebanese diamond dealer, kicked villagers off their land in Mazowe and taken over a dam in the same area.
In 2009, she attacked British photographer Richard Jones in Hong Kong and has had altercations with journalists in Singapore, where her husband travels for medical treatment at Gleneagles private hospital.
The end may not be near for Mugabe, but rubbing up South Africa — the region’s powerhouse and a generous donor — the wrong way will not win her favours in the contest for Zimbabwe’s top job.
It’s the mystery of the month. We can only imagine the drama that unfolded at a luxury hotel in Sandton last Sunday night. The guests at The Capital 20 West had just put on their jammies and were snuggling down to a quiet Sunday night of satellite telly when an ear-splitting screech reverberated through the corridors. Like all sensible citizens they acted with alacrity, crawling deeper under their duvets.
We can now deduce that the spectacular shriek emanated from Zimbabwe’s First Lady as she lashed out with the well-rehearsed technique of a plantation slaveholder at her unsuspecting target: 20-year-old model Gabriella Engels.
We now know that Grace Mugabe’s weapon of choice was an extension cord with a plug attached. A cord designed to conduct power from point A to point B would not immediately strike one as a lethal weapon, but Grace is obviously an old hand at creative improvisation. A skill that must have helped her advance from the presidential typewriter to the presidential bed.
But what of poor Gabriella? Her only discernible misdemeanour was to fraternise with Zimbabwe’s First Sons and thus show a decided lack of judgment in her choice of playmates. For that she got a brutal gash on the head.
Stormed out
What could possibly have incited Grace’s spectacular tantrum? Did she suddenly have the urge to practise the sjambokking technique required to subjugate servants at the First Residence in Harare? Did Gabriella involuntarily snigger at her Ferragamo slingbacks? Or send her regards to Morgan Tsvangirai? Perhaps she asked after Bob’s health? We will probably never know the details. After bashing her victim, the First Fugitive stormed out of the hotel. At the time of writing she had not been spotted in public.
One can only imagine the dialogue between Grace and her chief bodyguard as they sped off to one of her opulent boltholes: “Madam Leader, your hotel room aerobics were totally unbecoming. You could have torn your Chanel suit!”
But why pick on Grace? The bubble of privilege distorts reality for all who float in it — be they dictators, moguls, Hollywood notables or dictator wives.
The privileged are never short of creative ways to flash their excess, demonstrate their neuroses or find excuses to express their rage.
Out of touch
There’s the tale of the aristocrat and his lavatory. Filthy rich Marmaduke Furness insisted on new shoelaces for his shoes each day. They had to be ironed before being brought to his bedchamber. Furness had his own train with his own large lavatory complete with gold chain and ivory handle. During one trip the steward forgot to supply toilet paper, so Furness resorted to using £5 notes. Needless to say the steward was fired.
Then there’s the story of the perilous pudding. In 1943 the Big Three, Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin, met in Tehran for a critical World War 2 summit. During one of their lavish banquets (no rationing in solidarity with the people) a lavish dessert of ice and cream slid out of a waiter’s hands and exploded on the head of Stalin’s interpreter. According to witnesses, he carried on translating his leader’s words without missing a beat. Rather a mouthful of cream than permanent timeshare in a gulag.
Then there’s the actress and the urchin. Angelina Jolie, Hollywood’s poster girl for humanitarian causes, demonstrates a terrible lack of empathy with real human beings. The high priestess of politically correct causes told a Vanity Fair reporter that she found the child lead for her film on the Khmer Rouge by tempting deprived Cambodian kids with cash — and then snatching it away. Jolie claimed she was misrepresented in the article. Vanity Fair pulled out the interview tapes. (No wonder Brad bailed.)
As for Zimbabwe’s First Delinquents? Two days after their mother’s implosion, 25-year-old Robert jnr posted a picture of himself, brother Chatunga and friends chilling in Joburg, with the caption: “They keep on talking, we keep on rolling.”
Tearaway twins
Quite right. Robert Lite has obviously inherited his father’s ability to read a situation. We all know it’s highly unlikely Grace will be escorted kwelakwela style to appear in front of a local arbiter of the law.
Our lauded justice system — the one that conveniently allowed the only sitting president wanted for crimes against humanity to oil his way out of South Africa in 2015 — is unlikely to throw the book at Bob’s missus.
The tearaway twins have been popping corks in Johannesburg since earlier this year and, true to type, were booted out of another Sandton hotel for bad behaviour last month.
The New Zimbabwe website reports somebody posted a $3 000 (R39 000) bill they had run up, almost three times the average annual income for beleaguered Zimbabweans.
Their appetite for academic achievement is as dismal as their dad’s attitude towards democratic rule. Robert jnr has been kicked out of educational institutions in China and Dubai.
Twenty-year-old Chatunga, who likes to post pics of Armand de Brignac champagne, was expelled from a Catholic school in Harare for “wayward” behaviour.
In the past Grace has been quick to report that highly educated Robert Mugabe snr takes an interest in his children. On her 50th birthday two years ago, Grace told state-owned media that when she was out of town Chatunga slept in the presidential bed with Dad so the two could talk.
Imagine the conversations between Papa and his favourite boy: “Dad, how do you steal an election again? Remind me how to contact the North Koreans?”
But somehow Bob’s tutorials on political theory have gone pear-shaped.
“Son, Uncle Mao said politics in command, NOT alcoholics in command!”
As Grace chases after her sons, the underlying tension for the Mugabe family is the question of succession, which for them becomes more acute each day.
As 93-year-old hubby spills his tea on his smock and dribbles ProNutro on his bib, he must spend a large portion of his days contemplating the future of his family A future that looks more and more like the plot in a Shakespeare play: Fair is foul and foul is fair, Where the hell are my bloody heirs?
We all know it’s highly unlikely Grace will be escorted kwela-kwela style to appear in front of a local arbiter of the law