Land of the self-flushing toilet

In Japan. The greatest gift that Japan has given to the world, according to my host, is the toilet with instructions. When I first peeped into the loo, I could not understand why there would be a notice with instructions on "How to use this toilet", and there on the side of the seat like a helicopter cockpit were blinking lights!
Until I sat on the seat. It was warm (surely a good sign). And then it almost idles ready to start the business of ablutions. Once you are finished, it flushes itself. Or in the event that you want your under-carriage to the cleaned, it has three setting of jet flow. So I tried it, just to be adventurous, and the water was warm and one felt really clean afterwards.
So of all the Japanese inventions and innovations from National and Panasonic TV, gameboy to Pokemon, the self-flushing toilet (not so well-known in my world) comes tops. It shows you in a sense just how far Maslow's hierarchy of needs this society has gone to have thought about re-inventing this particular wheel.
It got me thinking about inventions and who has given what to the world. There is a racial view of the inventing nations, and the non-inventing nations which is skewed. And I found myself saddened that the only invention that my country is known for (even here in Japan) is of hyper-inflation (more a case study for political, history and economics scholars than an invention, really); and perhaps lately, inventing 8 ways of firing your deputy (more like Paul Simon trying to leave his lover). But really, we have not invented anything despite being so-called "educated". Zimbabwe is just a society which calcified as bones in a gerontocracy. We need younger leaders (which by the way is the reason I am with Alliance for People's Agenda and a worldly wise Nkosana Moyo)
Japan on the other hand has a long list of useful and not so useful inventions, and more lately of being complacent and thus ceding advantage to the South Koreans and the copy-cat Chinese. Today Samsung is now the dominant figure in house-hold appliances, technology,  mobile phones and is deeping itself into pharmaceuticals.
That is a part of my visit; to see how the Japanese can claim ground in the frontier markets of Africa. While the self-flushing toilet would never make it in Africa (needs reliable electricity supply and piped water, both of which are little known), Japan has a lot of offer the world in cosmetics, pharmaceuticals and a rich tradition of food innovation. It is also one of the largest consumer markets in the world. If only we had something we could sell to them.

AGO Mutambara...beyond ideation

Last night we went to the launch of AGO Mutambara's book.There was a full house...a great occasion, a great gathering of Zimbabwe's finest minds, if education is the yardstick of measuring fine mines - CEOs, lawyers, engineers, professors and people of title from across Gauteng-land.

Arthur, he is an enigma. I first knew about him in 1988 when he led that seminal demostration against government which marked the break between the students movement and the ZANU-PF government. Until that moment, the students were ZANU acolytes. That October, I was in form 2, and news started filtering that the university had been closed, that student leaders had been dragged in the dead of night and detained. Mutambara was said to have been injured while jumping out of the window of his second floor room. Some presumed him dead, and my mother, brought up his name in nightly prayers. She knew the Mutambara's she said, and there was injustice in what had happened. That was my political awkening, and I was to devour the manifesto that he and Ed Mbwembwe (the SRC president, or was it secretary general) had penned. "Running dogs of imperialism", that was the phrase that struck me in that pinky inky copy of that document which was largely influenced, perhaps even plagiarized from the socialistspeak of Karl Marx, Che Guevera and Franz Fanon. The phrase would have incensed the establishment, and the authors would have known it. In the book he dwells on this phase of the Zimbabwean story - which was to leave an indelible mark on the University of Zimbabwe. Years later, the students' union still pays homage to those protests in the name of one of the bars - October 7, I think it's still called.

He is cocky, Arthur is. And for good reason. He has written a trilogy on his relatively short life - 50 years. The first book is a journey through his formative years, replete with all his academic achievements - book prizes, first prize maths olympiad, Oxford certificates. The point...a village boy from an improverished African village can make it to the great halls of Oxbridge and beyond; to NASA and American academy. To be sure, Arthur had the example of his uncle who became his default father after his father's premature death. That man whom I had the pleasure of meeting was a stri t disciplinarian but he devoted his life to bringing up his brothers children, living a monk's life and marrying only later on in life. The Mutambara family is a chiefly family of high achievers. Arthur's father and uncles were all educated to a level unheard of in colonial Rhodesia. He, a lone brother with all three sisters went on to be all doctors of everything ranging from Engineering, Economics, Medicine and Pharmaceutical Science. These Mutambara children are a gifted brood, and Arthur above them all. Sometimes one thinks he should be out there using his Engineering to make the world a different place. As an academic myself I agree sometimes with that saying that those that can't do teach...but in Arthur's case, he should can do, and teach as well.

I like Mutambara. As you may have worked out by now, and I think he did us a great disfavour by killing his political career by plunging, seemingly without wise counsel, into the MDC factional wars...we have lost him to politics for ever : Zimbabwe is a sad unforgiving place. But that does not mean he can still not contribute to the African story. And at the launch among all the sound bites from him and the equaly able MC, Brian Kagoro, my UZ contemporary, he shared some important nuggets of wisdom:

1. We (Africans as a collective and individually) must tell our own stories - as Brian Kagoro emphasized, if we don't tell our own stories don't comlain when someone else tells it and put the commas in the wrong place;

2.We must aim to use time and talents to achieve what we can, not only for ourselves but for Afurika (as he called her), because our individual achievements are undermined by the under-achievement of where we come from. His "superstardom", he said, waned when people knew he was from poverty stricken-Zimbabwe; for how can you claim to be smart, when you do not use that gift to uplift your own people

3. We must be servants. Each generation, in the words of Franz Fanon must discover its mission, fulfill it or betray it. 
4. Globcalization. He made a powerful statement that we should think Africa first (a market of 1,1 billion people) before we think "little Zimbabwe", or "little South Africa". That makes obvious sense. The contradiction, a good friend of his pointed out, might be in the title of his book, for, if indeed Zimbabwe has lessons for Africa, then the elusive dream is not just a Zimbabwean one, but an African one.

So AGO Mutambara, as someone said, remains an intriguing idea; an intellectual giant, political missteps and all. I wish that soon we will see his ideas taking shape in products...because that is where he can make the greatestn difference. From ideas, to elusive dreams to reality, so to say. Perhaps they already have because he has two textbooks to his name, but we need more Professor, and I know you can do it.

Letter for President Khama

Mr President, HE Khama,

I visited your country on the 19th of December 2016 via Martin's Drift border post. Over on the Botswana side the queue was very long and snaking out of the building. It was not moving at all and there was no presence of any apparent government authority moving on the precinct. Batswana citizens and foreign visitors were all in the same line. There were old people, sick people, mothers with babies standing and sitting there. The toilets were dirty and stinky. This does not give a good impression of country that I as an African would like to regard as an African success story. I think simple interventions such as separate lines for citizens and foreign visitors would expedite things. I write to request that you intervene, because, again last year in 2015 I travelled the same route and encountered inordinate and unexplained delays.

I pay tribute to two Batswana men who took it upon themselves to start organizing the queues and getting some order going. When asked if they were government officials, they said no, they were ordinary citizens who just wanted to get home to their families...they did not attempt to jump the queue, but patiently organized all of us. Those were my heroes.

You have a beautiful country and in fact it is those of us who come through this little borderpost, transiting through to Zambia, Zimbabwe and beyond who probably support the small businesses along the way, the small B&Bs on the outskirts of Francistown, the petrol pumps and road side cafes at Nata, the toilet entrepreneurs near Pandamatenga. In return we ask that your country's border posts be more hospitable...that queues be managed so that we travel during safe daylight hours (donkeys are a major hazard for night travel as you appreciate), that toilets (especially women's ablution facilities) be clean and free and available.

Thank you Mr Khama.

Yours sincerely

David R. Katerere, a fellow traveller & African

Salvation Blues

I land in Harare on the day of the Million Man March. They were a quarter of  a million by all acounts, not quite the million, but who would have thought that such a turn out would be there marching on hungry stomachs.
The last time I was home, a mere 6 months ago, the situation was not as desperate...a turn for the worse has been sudden (perhaps hidden from those of us who watch from a distance). I am immediately overcome by a sense of helplessness which slowly turns into a pervading darkness within me. I was there for all of 5 days, but there was no warmth in my heart, no joy in my laughter, even in seeing my mother. It's like when you receive news that someone dear to you has a terminal illness, and you just wait for that cancer to choke the lungs and stretch it's deadly tentacles to other vital organs. Watching, waiting, hoping...helplessly, patiently, but with no idea how long it will take to suck the air and life out of that person. This country, is that loved one, and her gurgles / curdles of blood and gasping of breath is distressing.
I have thought long and hard about what to do. Facebook has had the bright Facebook people with their Facebook ideas shared and re-shaped, and liked and re-shared. Solutions have been proffered by the tweets, some have cautioned, others hashtagged encouraging, patriotic nonsense. For nothing makes sense at the moment. How did we get to this spot; how did we get into the never-ending loop of nightmares?  How did we check into Hotel California, where we can check out any time but never be able to leave?
At a braai over that weekend, the discussion veered (again) towards the crisis and solutions (if any). These were party men, patriots. Even they acknowledge that there is a crisis.  They talked about the competing factions and the fight to the death. I was quiet, cautious for a long time. Fear stalls me when I am here...I keep my counsel.
Gentlemen, I said, at last, unable to continue to hold my silence,  what is needed is a not party politics anymore!
We have now moved beyond the point when politics of the party, and party-led politics will help this country. Unfortunately no-one will admit that, because it is in the party that many can hide and continue the chaos which provides them with cover. What this country needs now, I said, in my foolishness (for these were party people) is a Government of National Salvation...an animal that will draw from all the expertise and skills of the sons and daughters of this land - local and foreign-based. And for a while, let us forget partisanship.
That is the solution...but does anyone see it that way, or care for the country more than for self? For such a thing to happen, those with the power will have to step back and sacrifice themselves for a greater good; commit an honorable hara kiri; find their servanthood, and their love for this land as it gasps...it's last.

A message of hope

We have interesting discussions at youth. And working with young people is good…they challenge you; they ask questions; they are sceptical. So this Friday we were talking about culture and Christian. Being African, being Christian and being African Christians.

“I don’t really feel included because the pictures of Christian heroes and characters are all white. So, really, where are Africans in the bible,” one young man said quietly, provocatively

It got me thinking…

In fact, where is Africa in history…where is Africa in today’s global events. So I thought I would read you this, as a starting point…

The kingdom of the Zaghawa (Lake Chad) is said to the  great kingdom among the kigs of the Sudan. They are many tribes. Their houses are all of gypsum and so is the castle of their king. Their cattle are goats and cows and camels and horses. Millet chiefly is cultivated in their land, and beans and also wheat.

Of the Benin Kingdom was written by a Dutch traveler in 1602

The town seemeth to be very great, with streets which seen seven or eight times broader than those of Amsterdam.  The houses in this town stand in good order, one close and even with the other, as the houses in Holland. It seems the King has many soldiers; he has also many gentlemen, who when they come to court ride upon horses.

So Africa has a great history, a great heritage…a good story to tell. But it is for us as Africans to tell it.

Africa appears many times in the bible – it is a place of refuge; a place of plentiful.

Abraham flees to Egypt with Sarah in a time of famine.

Jacob and his sons  go there when again famine stalks the land, and the Jewish nation is saved by a child they had sold into slavery, Joseph, who rises to be a Chief Minister of an African government.

Moses is an African. He is born in Africa. Later on he marries Zipporah, a Kushite woman, an African Book of Numbers 12:1               

Later, Jesus also finds shelter there. So Jesus encounters Africa at the beginning of his life, and on his way to the cross, he is helped to carry the cross by Simon of Cyrene, who is in fact a Libyan, and therefore an African.

Thus God has been involved with Africans directly from ancient times.

The core values of Christianity – loving thy neighbour, forgiveness, respecting parents – are essentially the same as African values.

Being African is not being black. In fact, historically there are three original cultural groups which are thought to have been the first people of this continent – the Caucasoid semites (fair skinned people) of the north, the Ethiopians (burnt faces – negroids) of East, Central and West Africa and the pygmy / Khoisan of Central and Southern Africa.

Africa therefore is the most diverse mass of land, culturally and linguistically rich. This diversity is surely an asset. That is why we can claim Charlize Theron, Lupita Nyong’o, Kwame Nkrumah, Julius Nyerere,  Barack Obama snr, Nelson Mandela, Moses of the bible.

So what of Africa to-day?  Despite the negativity which is real, there is much to celebrate. Africa is at it’s most peaceful, and most stable in recent history – there are fewer wars, fewer people dying in wars. Democracy is beginning to thrive and there is a generational awakening. With the youngest population in the world and 1 billion citizens, there should be nothing to stop this juggernaut of a country moving forward. So let us continue to pray to God to continue to choose Africa and Africans to a higher calling.

God bless Africa.

God bless her children, guard them, guide them.

God bless her leaders, guard them, soften their hearts so they may serve their people.

 Mwari Komoborerai Afrika. Nkosi sikeleli Africa. 

A hard working man in Africa

In Victoria Falls. This town used to be teeming with adventure-types from all over the world. Back in 1995, just out of university I was one of those backpacker types. It was like I was in another country.
Now...all that is gone. The recent Zanu conference spooked many people too, I am told.
But I met a man whose story is worth telling...a good man in Africa. Let me call him Mr B, an unassuming man who was happy to share his life story. He started as a waiter at a regional franchise restaurant in the early 2000s. He was so driven that he believed that in 10 years' time he would own that franchise. Today, he holds it against all odds. But this is a country whose economy is stuttering again and holding such a franchise is like having a cow that one day might give milk. One day. Try operating a spaza / tuck-shop in Zimbabwe, probably one of the most hostile business environments globally, and you will come up against inflation and deflation, unpredictable political and economic decisions, corrupt officials...and everything in between. As Mr B says, he should be thriving but he is only just keeping his head above water, hoping that the country will turn the corner. Yet, he talks about the lessons he has learnt and how he has grown agility in his business thinking, nimbly building a portfolio of businesses to support his dream.
And about that corner...we all have been waiting too long for that corner. The ones who thrive in Africa are those who have cronies in government while those who try to work hard are always fighting against the system. But if we need to change this, we cannot continue to be spectators...there can be no spectators in this game. If one wants honest people to thrive on this continent, then one must begin to think seriously about being on the side of  those people. Time to put on the soccer boots and start the warm up...

Educated, respectful, loyal, hard-working....does that describe you?


Every nation has it's own labels...the way it's citizens are generally viewed. When you think arrogant, Americans come to mind. It turns out that when you are in the US, they are the nicest people you ever come across; think drug dealers and scammers, and Nigerians come to mind. And so the poor Nigerian passport holder is targeted for thorough searching at every port of entry. In my experience, Nigerian academics and doctors are the unsung heroes working in remote corners of South Africa, or other far flung places. But to undo this labelling will not be easy.
Zimbabweans, we are in the lucky position of having the label of "educated, well-spoken, respectful, loyal, hard-working". This sounds very positive, doesn't it? But is it really. Read those words again...educated (for whose purpose, to whose service), well-spoken (in whose language?), respectful (to whom? fearful of authority actually and any authority figure!), loyal (to the master? So the phrase "murungu wangu" (my white boss) continues to be used even when the boss is mostly always black), hard-working (in building whose dreams?).
These awkward question arose in mind recently when I phoned the local distributor of the paper I subscribe. The manager is  a pleasant sounding young Zimbabwean woman whom I have spoken with on various occasions and so she is comfortable sharing what happens in the company (mainly poor salaries and non-payment) leading to disruption of service.
So I asked her a simple question - How complicated is the logistics of distributing newspapers? What resources are needed? And how easy is it to snag contracts?
It turns out that it really is not that difficult. She has been involved in the system, she knows the networks and what is need is a small vehicle and from what I have seen, that should not cost too much of an arm and a leg. Then I asked her if she had ever thought of setting up her own thing seeing as she was really the one running the business already. This was met with a silence and bewilderment which reflected that in her loyalty mentality she had never thought she could actually own the business; she was not entitled to it.
And she is not alone. I have known Bigsy since my Chivhu days. He is a man steeped in the service culture of the hotel and restaurant culture. To-day he manages a restaurant franchise in Cape Town and has over a quarter of century of experience, and yet, I am not convinced that he has ever thought about getting his own branch, or owning shares of the current one. Perhaps he has, and thought he doesn't have the financial muscle to get into the game. But who does? One of the things we need to do as Zimbabweans is to network good business ideas with good funders, whether informal or formal. There are many other people in my networks I can think of who are quintessentially Zimbabwean - educated, well-spoken, respectful, loyal and hardworking - myself included - but we are not using these attributes to create wealth for ourselves. We are the equivalents of the working class honey bee, toiling every day to feed the queen bee.
The funny thing is that when I meet Zimbabweans in the diaspora, they all talk about going home to start their own business! Well, fat chance, now Zimbabwe is a nation of vendors, and vendoring is the most entrepreneurial of all things - you engage and close the deal, you use just-in-time logistics and you need to be extremely agile and flexible. So with your systems thinking and business school formalities, this will be a tough space. A few years ago, speaking to Zimbabweans in Dallas, Texas, I urged them, "So you want to start your own business? Start where you are! If a business can start where you are, it will be easier to grow at back into Zimbabwe much easily. The other way is nigh impossible"
So, what's my point? Let's turn the positive attributes which the world sees in us, it something that builds businesses not just exhaust us to death. If you are a work now, work, but also think about how your understanding of the nuts and bolts of that business is so valuable that you can turn that knowledge into your own business. Let's get a bit more rebellious, a lot less loyal...