Zimbabwe

I have developed a keen interest in Zimbabwe. Not just because a large base of our clients are from the country (during the week of the initial outbreak of xenophobia, our office met with nearly 500 Zimbabweans). But also because of the (serendipitous) interactions with Zimbabweans — both in and outside of work — that has given me a profound understanding of its people and insight into the horrifying/repressive economic and political conditions that has driven thousands of refugees into South Africa and other neighboring countries.

I had a very interesting encounter at Europa. I was reading an article on Zimbabwe when the waiter, intrigued by a photo of President Mugabe displayed across the page, asked about the article’s content. It turned out that he is a refugee from Zimbabwe. He had left only 4 months ago immediately following the April elections that rendered Mugabe the illegitimate victor. Fascinated by his story, I began asking a bunch of questions, which he appeared happy to answer. (He actually thought I was a journalist.) But after telling him about my work with refuges at Lawyers for Human Rights, he asked if I could assist with his asylum status to which I was more than happy — and now much more comfortable and well versed — in offering advice. It was shocking to hear that 5 billion Zimbabwean dollars is not enough to buy even salt in his country: “I’m not sure how people are even surviving there right now,” he said. In Zimbabwe, unemployment is at nearly 80% and inflation is over 100,000%. Which is why he ended up escaping in the middle of the night to South Africa. We have plans to meet up at some point so he can tell me more about his story.

Yesterday at work, I met with a Zimbabwean teenager who came to South Africa with his mother. He is 18-years-old, and though small in stature and adolescent in appearance, came across as very articulate and precocious, though soft-spoken and nervous during our conversation (he barely looked me in the eye). MW left Zimbabwe 6 months ago due to severe economic conditions. Apparently, the monthly salary of teachers in Zimbabwe is 130,000 billion dollars, the equivalent to 1 USD! Teachers from MW’s school left because they were not making enough money. Which is why MW expressed a desire to continue his education in South Africa; but this was not possible without the appropriate documents.

I felt bad because our attorneys do not consult with clients on Fridays … but I took him to see the attorney anyway. I was somehow compelled by MW as he is one of the kindest, most sincere kids I have met, even in the short time that we spoke. In a sense, I was rooting for him. I wanted for him to succeed, to transcend the obstacles and barriers imposed upon him and all those who had been displaced, tortured, and repressed as a result of the government’s dictatorship. The reality however, is that MW does not qualify for refugee status based on the reasons stated for leaving Zimbabwe—namely economic and not from any form of persecution (his claim for asylum status would eventually be rejected). The next step is for MW to go to the immigration office to attain a study permit, which I am not even certain will be met with success. I ended up giving MW R50 to assist him. As I walked him out the door, I told him to use it wisely (which I’m sure he will) and wished him the best of luck with his endeavors. I understand that handing out money is not the solution, but this was the only thing I could—and wanted to do—to assist MW. I mean, all he wants is the opportunity to go to school—something I think we tend to take for granted.

The life of Zimbabwean refugees I meet everyday is an interesting contrast to the life of my friend Simu, who grew up in Zimbabwe but received a scholarship to attend boarding school and now med school in the UK; he is currently working at hospital in Durban as part of his elective. We met through my British roommates and have become good friends. After a long night of card playing and ridiculous imitations of each other’s accents (the British outnumbered us Americans 4 to 3), Simu and I stayed up till 2AM chatting. He shared his life story—from his perspective on the current Zimbabwean crisis to his personal dilemma of wanting to actually practice as a doctor to his ambitions of one day attending the Harvard School of Public Health.

What I appreciate (and will certainly miss) about this summer has been the opportunity to meet people with such diverse and interesting backgrounds. Fortunately I live in the bay area in California and attend one of the most diverse colleges — ethnically, socio-economically, and intellectually — where meeting interesting people is not unusual ... but somehow, it's just not the same as being in South Africa.

My roommates eating at a restaurant across from our flat (Simu is third to the left).