Most Zimbabweans go to bed early because the power is cut off. The darkness in their bedrooms shadows the mood in the country, where an economic crisis has pushed inflation to nearly 1,600 per cent or 17 times, the highest level in the world.
Coping with economic meltdown is never easy. But in President Robert Mugabe’s Zimbabwe, once seen as the brightest economic star in southern Africa, it has become a disheartening battle that most people lose every day.
After cooking breakfast on a charcoal stove, going to work is the next challenge as the daily journey has become an expensive exercise in frustration. Chinese buses purchased by the state-run transport operator run infrequently, partly because of breakdowns, lack of spares and fuel shortages, so people often have to make do with “pirate taxis” which charge a fortune.
Fares change every day as people try to figure out what their money is worth. At the moment, it costs me between 1,000 and 2,000 Zimbabwe dollars ($4 and $8) for a trip into the city.
Critics say the government’s programme of seizing white-owned farms to give to landless blacks created an agricultural crisis in Zimbabwe. Mugabe, who has ruled the country since independence in 1980 and turned 83 on Wednesday, accuses the West of sabotaging Zimbabwe’s economy.
Whatever the reason, the impact is everywhere, always. A packed lunch to work gives the household a useful economic indicator — the lunchbox index — which is a clearer measure than the official inflation statistics. Last August, when the central bank introduced new banknotes, having lopped off three zeros, 1,000 Zimbabwe dollars could provide a decent packed sandwich; a couple of slices of bread, some eggs and even a slice of meat on good days.
Now 1,000 Zimbabwe dollars will buy only two eggs. Bread, which cost about 250 dollars 12 months ago, now costs 1,000 dollars. Cash machines have stopped dispensing 1,000 dollar bills and now issue 10,000 dollar notes.
The bundles of banknotes keep growing. Where 100,000 dollars would go a long way in meeting grocery needs for a month last August, one now needs five times that amount.
Shopping in a supermarket can be a surreal experience, with customers racing to keep ahead of employees who comb through the shelves changing price tags to keep up with the daily inflation hikes. Often customers will try to quarrel with a cashier demanding more than appears on the price tag, but they have become used to the explanation: the price has risen and those changing the tags simply cannot keep up.
In contrast to three years ago, supermarket shelves are relatively full these days, but some things are still very difficult to get.
The economic crisis has pushed unemployment above 70 per cent. Some people without jobs turn to crime; others simply spend their days in angry conversations about Zimbabwe’s turmoil — anger that is increasingly hard to escape as our country collapses around us.