African Laughter - Doris May Lessing [125]
The worst thing is that so much of the Aid money was wasted. This was partly because of all those fine words at Liberation: people believed that the fine words were the same as getting things done. Now when the government has a Party rally few people attend: it is a sign of maturity, and let’s hope Mugabe realizes that. There was a big rally here last month, and when the government spokesman–she was a woman–talked, the crowd did not respond. But when a local Chief got up to speak everyone went wild. Yes, the old Chiefs are back. Mugabe needs their support and he has returned them their courts: they can try local cases. But of course they want everything back: they want the power to allocate land.
Countries dishing out all that Aid money have got wary: their fingers have been burned too often. But it was their own fault. They handed out money to anyone and anything before making sure there was an infrastructure to build on…and a lot of the Aid money was stolen.
I hear another version of the ‘what is the most dangerous job’ joke: distribute Aid money–you’ll get away with ten years if you’re lucky.
But have people actually been imprisoned? Well, not many.
Back comes that question: how is it so many get away with it, expect to get away with it? Everywhere people have helped themselves as openly as if they were taking honey out of an old tree in the bush. Aid money has founded the fortunes of many a Chef.
Yet there is always another set of initials, signifying another fund, agency, organization, in arcane conversations impossible for a newcomer to crack. ‘If we can get X of XY to fund KA and BC then the IWP will come in and underwrite CBD and WSP.’
A well-known East African, once Minister of Economics, says he thinks Aid money is the worst thing that ever happened to Zimbabwe. (I have to emphasize that he is black, otherwise, ‘Well, he would wouldn’t he?’) ‘Mugabe should have insisted on pulling up the country by its bootstraps. The infrastructure was all there. Now the automatic response to any problem is, “Give us some Aid money”. All right, it would have taken longer. Aid organizations have turned the African nations into a pack of beggars.’ Or, a newspaper editor talks–black: ‘Aid hasn’t done us any good. Look what happened in the Second World War when imports stopped: secondary industry developed, Rhodesia became self-supporting. Then Sanctions: they were very good for this country, the same thing happened. Though of course it isn’t fashionable to say so.’
Another friend, South African (black), says the most disgusting thing he has ever seen was Nyerere on the television, ‘smiling like a dear sweet little angel’, waving in Aid money with both hands. ‘Send it along, send it along,’ he cried.
I have tried these ideas on various groups of people during this trip, but the response is, ‘That’s all very well if you haven’t seen the poverty for yourself.’ I haven’t the heart to say anything of the sort to these people here, so optimistic, so confident. The Book Team uses Aid money. It has also refused Aid money, when an organization has tried to lay down the law, exert political control. ‘They fly in from somewhere–Canada, America, Denmark, Germany–they talk to some bureaucrat in a Harare office, then they say, we’ll give you money if you do this or that. If we’re lucky they’ll take a trip to a Communal Area for a couple of hours before they rush back to Harare.’ The books the Team are producing are expensive, though not in labour, which is mostly voluntary. Eventually there will be six, each in the main six languages. It will take another six years to complete the project. If Zimbabwe changes as much in the coming six years as it has in the past six, then the books will have to change too.
‘Why, do you think Zimbabwe has changed?’ I am asked, by people impatient for utopia.
‘But surely you must see how much it has changed. Being here is like being in a slow earthquake. I’m surprised any of you can keep a balance.’
‘It seems to us