Zimbabwe Coup

Zimbabwe’s textbook coup.

What happened in the month of November was not a overall change in the winning coalition, it was merely an edit, a rejuvenation (how loosely we use the word for youth…Mnangagwa is 75), a restoration of a legacy as the coup executors called it. The coalition size has not expanded. Rather, it has moved in the opposite direction. The triumvirate consisting of the Zimbabwe Defence forces, their civilian reserves in the form of the war veterans, and the ruling party ZANU PF remain in power, only with the role of the party even less diminished. The gun now leads politics. The true power has emerged from behind the throne, and we are celebrating it like the proverbial idiot who claps for a witchhunter, even one who is out to catch his own mother. We have just witnessed the narrowing of the winning coalition, and the closing out of whatever democratic space remained in Zimbabwe.


A girl called Zimbabwe

The rims of her eyes looked swollen and red, like she had been crying. Her hair was chaotic, like she had just been out on a windy day. The multicoloured dress she wore – black, red, yellow, green, white – was speckled with what looked like soup stains. But beneath her harried exterior, I saw a beauty that overshadowed her evident predicament.