Massive political implosion beckons

in the day, BACK there was nothing as maddeningly hectic and nervefraying as the monthly pilgrimage of shepherding cattle to the communal dip tank.

IT really tested your tolerance, patience, sanity, endurance and every other conceivable stamina. For the uninitiated, this journey — which involved rounding up and chaperoning the whole herd, from doddering young calves, stubborn oxen to recalcitrant bulls — would break even the most determined of “cowboys” or, occasionally, “cowgirls”.

You needed to wake up either during witching hours or wee hours of the day to steal a march on fellow villagers to make the task relatively less burdensome.

Failure to do so often resulted in the unwanted possibility of entangling the herd with those of fellow villagers, which guaranteed the most chaotic pilgrimage imaginable.

In the stomping melee, which was usually accompanied by a maelstrom of dust touched off by trampling hooves, one would have to peer through the sandstorm to keep track of his herd.

One also needed to keep an eye out for those frolicking oxen that would separate from the herd and wonder deep into the thickets, or those doddering calves that would simply get disoriented and lost in the melee.

In either case, one would normally be confronted by that unenviable conundrum of either leaving the bigger herd to search for the missing cattle or the dreaded, if not impossible, option of leaving behind the truant or lost beast or calf (ves).

You see, the seething and abominable creatures that were dip-tank supervisors were thoroughly mean-spirited and cruel folks.

To this day, Bishop Lazi has not even figured out why the scum of the village always landed this supposedly sociable job.

So, either wittingly or unwittingly, one would not miss a dipping session for anything in the world, even if they had a bereavement, illness, broken leg or arm. Kikikiki.

The supervisor always gave you two options: You either attended the dipping session or you did not miss the dipping session.

There was always hell to pay for missing one as this was perceived as an unforgivable sin likely to endanger the village herd.

But what made the exercise monotonously tedious were the unavoidable bullfights.

Depending on how belligerent the bulls were, you would spend an odd hour or two while the beasts wrestled, rumbled, tumbled, weirdly snuggled and literally bulldozed each other to a standstill.

Sadly, you could not separate them while they were locking horns.

In some village families, if not all, you could not rudely call on the bulls or whip them into line because they were often regarded as a symbol of the spiritual family patriarch (bhuru remusha).

Even when you finally made it to the dip tank, coaxing the cattle to plunge into the curative chemical pool was always a feat.

It literally brought to life that famous African proverb that claims that you can take a donkey to the river, but you cannot force it to drink water.

You only had to be there to witness the medley of madness as the booming voice of a temperamental supervisor and a cacophony of screaming herders, including the thunderous crackling of stockwhips, build up to an irritating high-pitched hysteric crescendo. It got worse.

After dipping, all cattle assume a camouflaging greyish hue that makes it difficult to tell them apart.

You could imagine how difficult it was to regather the herd.

It was, therefore, unsurprising that by the time the tortuous and incident-filled journey to and from the dip tank was over, the ashen-looking herder would be incredibly drained, hungry, distraught and sometimes close to tears.

Vain

Bishop Lazi found himself reflecting on this arduous village task when he was trying to get a handle on how our tortuous journey to stability and prosperity has become so incident-filled.

It was not going to be an easy journey, but it does not have to be bogged down by unnecessary sideshows, choreographed drama and mean-spirited chaps.

The heightened internecine bullfights and the attendant drama in the fractious opposition MDC, through which some factions somehow try to rope in the State and systematically malign it as being responsible for their waning political fortunes will only make our journey painfully tortuous.

What was supposed to be ordinary political contestation between factions of the MDC for Harvest House — the party’s headquarters — ended up being a mudslinging contest in which the name of the army and the police ended up being used in vain.

We were dutifully told that the two critical arms of the State had on June 4 aided the MDC-T faction of the MDC to take over the headquarters from the MDC-A.

However, in a remarkable about-turn, MDC-A officials now claim in sworn affidavits before the courts that the police and the army “failed to intervene” when MDC-T moved in.

But the facts did not count for much as the US assistant secretary for the Department of State (Bureau of African Affairs) Tibor Nagy, the US Senate Foreign Relations Committee and US Senator Chris Coons — who has been indefatigably pushing for the retention of ZDERA — chose to unashamedly parrot the MDC-A line.

And we also recently had the case of the doddering calves who are lost — or rather who lost their way — along the journey and claimed to have been kidnapped by State agents.

The recent case involves the MDC-A trio of Joana Mamombe, Netsai Marova and Cecilia Chimbiri.

The Bishop will not comment much at this moment as the case is now sub judice.

However, the case harks back to the somewhat doggy narratives previously made by Dr Peter Mangombeyi and Gonyeti (Samantha Kureya).

Can anyone tell the Bishop why these seemingly determined human rights activists are now so deafeningly silent?

Well, in our African culture, it is both disrespectful and taboo to talk while you are eating. Kikikiki.

But even before the investigations have been completed, the State has already been found guilty of gross human rights violations by the EU and the UN.

And honestly, how mean-spirited and cruel does someone have to be to summon the nerve of writing to the World Bank — as Tendai Biti did on May 21 — to deny Zimbabwe money at a time when it is, like every other country in the world, grappling with the fallout from the coronavirus pandemic?

Curiously, Biti’s letter was rehashed by the same US Foreign Relations Committee and similarly sent on June 2 to the World Bank.

You could definitely swear it was the same letter that was simply written in a different handwriting.

But how does one even think these countries that today stand accused of systemically and racially slaughtering blacks in their own backyards over the past 400 years would be empathetic to the interests of blacks in Africa?

What a shame!

Calculated

If you think that this nexus between the MDC-A and these Western institutions and missions could be fortuitous, then you definitely need your head examined.

It is not.

For these institutions, the MDC-A is a convenient hand tool to get rid of the Zanu PF Government, while the MDC-A see these institutions as the only staircase to power.

There has been a systematic and well calculated assault on key State organs — the police, the army, the Judiciary and the Office of the President — which is calculated to chip away at the reputation and sanctity of the State, while making Zimbabweans disaffected with the ruling party.

Apparently, they hope the disaffected would be naturally conscripted into the ranks of the opposition.

The multi-frontal assault, which is being ratcheted up to coincide with the Covid-19 crisis, is meant to blunt the dogged resistance of the State and push the country towards an imaginary tipping point.

Well, we have been down this road before. Bishop Lazi would like to dutifully remind these hopeless schemers who regularly mischaracterise and misread local politics that such machinations have never worked, are not working and will never work.

No sovereign country anywhere will allow itself to be overrun by hostile foreign interests.

This is what ED meant at the Zanu PF Politburo meeting last week when he said: “These confrontational actions which played out in the political, economic and media arena were not isolated incidences but were orchestrated, co-ordinated and planned events. I am aware that the intention was to cause despondency, unrest, violence and to render the country ungovernable.”

Fortunately, those who live in the shadows perfectly know, as they always do, what is happening.

Chaos

If anything, the MDC will continue to split asunder.

You honestly think that Tendai Biti would subordinate his vaulting political ambitions to Nelson Chamisa?

In what capacity was he writing that letter to the World Bank? Kikiki.

Or you think Job Sikhala is prepared to lie low even when he told American diplomats he was in better stead to lead the party.

Where the Bishop comes from, cocks do not share the same fowl (foul) run.

The MDC-T itself is also poised for an epic and abrasive elective congress.

A massive political implosion beckons. As 2023 draws near, the more visible and intense the fights will become.

Politics is a game of smokes and mirrors; if you want to read it correctly, you can be guided better by Matthew 7 v 15-20: “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognise them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognise them by their fruits.”

However protracted and difficult the struggle, good will always triumph over evil.

Bishop out!