Unpacking Stephen Mpofu’s ‘Creatures at the Top’
And it is also apparent that Mpofu’s sincere belief is that the pen of the journalist is a powerful one and should be used for the betterment of society and not for the protection of “creatures at the top”.
THE first three sentences of Stephen Mpofu’s “Creatures at the Top” (2012) remind me so much of Olley Maruma’s “Coming Home”. The narrative voice, panoptic view of racial and anti-racial politics, and the overt intrusion of the narrator with explanations of unfolding events look like they were taken from the same school of writing.
What makes Mpofu’s “Creatures at the Top” different is that it is a true story narrated by the author himself whereas Maruma’s “Coming Home” ‘pretends’ to be a work of fiction.
Thus, overt authorial intrusion in “Creatures at the Top” is actually a must (without it the story would be ‘pretending’ to be fiction) whereas in Coming Home, overt authorial intrusion is, to me, unforgivable.
The book is interesting in the sense that it straddles three periods: post-independence Zambia, pre-independence Zimbabwe and post-independence Zimbabwe.
What is interesting is that as I read the story of Mpofu, I got this feeling that he was telling us, without mincing words, that he had tested two kinds of independence: the Zambian one and the Zimbabwean one.
Coming home in 1980 made him experience some déjà vu: the independence of Zambia had already prepared him, somehow, for what to expect in Zimbabwe. For instance, in both countries, the stories of a magical liquid called oil (or diesel) oozing from the deepest recesses of the earth played tricks on citizens and government officials until their heads were out of gear.
The independence script was bizarrely the same, so similar that the author reflects:
“In exile where I spent a better part of my career the people had performed the same independence play as that which Zimbabweans now acted out. They had done so with various degrees of success and failure.
“This reflection made me reflect too. I am still reflecting. I am reflecting, especially after a west African friend of mine laughed at the aplomb with which I greeted the dawn of a new era in Zimbabwe. I even sent a few video clips of myself celebrating and enjoying myself on that day when the new President of Zimbabwe was inaugurated.
“He, my west African friend, said, “My good fellow, while I feel happy for you, I just want to warn you: we have walked that road before. We have changed leaders like clothes. Please, do not follow our script. Let yours be a different one.”
A mutual South African friend of mine came to my rescue by declaring, “Cynicism guarantees a shorter lifespan! Be happy in this moment!” So I remained happy in that moment and even downed a few glasses that induced more happiness in my body. Kkkkkkkk.
“Creatures at the Top” brought me back to thinking, seriously, about where we are as Zimbabwe. Mpofu reflects on that first decade of euphoria when almost everyone was Zanu-PF!
He says as the years passed by, he grew more and more despondent because “while the many voices, in precious rags noisily celebrated the socialist movement, there also existed big-chested Pharisees who denounced Capitalism by shouting Socialist slogans by day but by night preyed on new opportunities opened in commerce and industry and meant to benefit the nation as a whole”.
He, in passionate vitriol reminiscent of Armah’s “The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born”, calls such hypocrites “maggots”, and “gregarious and skimpy worms” that crawl behind the maggots; both are voracious and destructive and leave behind a wasteland for the majority to die on.
No text from Zimbabwe’s post2000 period has made me this sad. Many post-2000 narratives mix sadness with humour; Mpofu doesn’t.
His honest reflection of what it means to be independent in Africa (and Zimbabwe), and what it doesn’t mean, leaves you trapped between being worked up and being despondently sad.
You hear a voice from deep in your heart crying, “We deserve a different story!” My wish is that this wish of mine will actually become a horse.
The title of Mpofu’s reflections of his decades-long profession as a journalist in two independences is consonant with his description of hypocrites as those worms, those maggots, those vultures, those creatures, at the top.
And it is also apparent that Mpofu’s sincere belief is that the pen of the journalist is a powerful one and should be used for the betterment of society and not for the protection of “creatures at the top”.
In fact, for Mpofu, a country does not need creatures at the top; it needs human beings whose sole motivation is to serve and not to ensconce themselves in impunity and avarice.
So the journalist and his/her pen, as Mpofu advises, should not retreat from the kind of unwavering commitment that is required to write for a just cause, for a just society. And if a just Zimbabwe is what we were dreaming of during that day of the new President’s inauguration, then the scribe has a task to write that Zimbabwe into fruition.
According to Mpofu, “if we who (are) regarded by the general public as honest and fearless watchdogs of society (are) not tenacious enough, we might even be armed with wooden swords by unscrupulous chefs against their political foes, not to mention psychological coercion to shut our eyes at their own filthy linen.”
As I finished reading Mpofu’s reflections, I silently hoped that what we celebrated that day, that day when we declared that there was a new dawn in Zimbabwe, was not a farce.
I am still hoping and trusting right now. In fact, I am so full of hope that I am dreaming of a day five years from now when I will pay my west African friend a visit and, over our inevitable glasses, tell him point blank that Zimbabwe is a different story altogether!
“Creatures at the Top” is a fine book and those who want a journalist’s grasp of the politics of journalism in Zimbabwe, and the politics of Zimbabwe itself, should order a copy.