Tuesday 31 March 2020

Choosing Your Jesus. Religion in Zim's Experience of Corona Virus


 By Takura Zhangazha*

This last weekend, the religious among us had to change, somewhat their approaches to what they would call ‘praise and worship’.  Understandably so.  In the wake of the corona virus (Covid-19) and government directives about public gatherings, pastors, imams and the like had to reconsider their direct physical relationships with their proverbial ‘flock’. 

In particularly Christian Zimbabwe (and Southern Africa) a number of churches announced cancellations of their physical church services.  Also with some of the Pentecostals deciding to go virtual in some of their rescheduled services.  But in the main the primary message to worshipers was that they would pray at home.  Though there will still some churches that proceeded with services particularly in the poorer urban areas.

There have of course been caustic and sarcastic jokes about why supposedly ‘men of God’ are unable to stop the spread of Covid-19, let alone heal it.  This after some of them have generally laid claim to being healers or being able to precisely prophesy events (good or bad) that will happen. Such conversations have in part led to the slight demystification of fervent and at times illogical promises of faith by ‘prophets’ and their followers.

But what is clear is that religion was always going to have an impact as to how Covid-19 is perceived here in Zimbabwe.  And this is in three respects.  Firstly from the perspective of religion as being ‘functional’ to our societies.  Secondly as a result of the increasing individualism of acts of ‘faith’. Thirdly on the still ubiquitous basis of class and an attendant anticipation of material wealth.

In the first instance I have referred to a well-known sociological term, as coined by Emile Durkheim that refers to the functionalism of religion in society.  Our initial proclivity toward religion, and in our geographical case, Christianity in particular is a result of how it serves to stabilize our societies in one form or the other.  Acting as part of a systemic whole, religion/churches tend to help control our behavior in what would be considered modern society.  

So the more orthodox churches serve this role where when for example the Zimbabwe Catholic Bishops Conference announces that it is suspending church services and physical activities at its premises, it helps to reinforce a government directive.  Which in turn helps the functions of the police, the judiciary and other sectors of society. 

The only uniqueness to our situation with regards to Covid-19 is that religion also appears to have gone slightly beyond the functional.  A development which brings me to my second key point about the role that religion is playing on our perceptions around the pandemic. Which is the act of faith as increasingly an individualism exercise.  Instead of religion retaining its functional role via its institutions, it has also become a highly individual act.  

Full of perceptions of ‘anointing’, being chosen ones and a very strong sense of Pentecostalism, religion has made a number of worshipers believe they are the chosen ones.  Individually.  Or if they are not, they at least individually belong to that church that most gives them greater opportunities at personal wealth.  It is an individualism that will lead some to believe, unfortunately, in a false individual invincibility.  In the name of their religion.  Or their respective church leaders to seek cheap publicity opportunities about prophecies and the like.  It is also an individualism that then fits in cruelly with neo-liberal economics and what has been ably described by Comaroff and Comaroff as ‘millennial capitalism’ where religious fervor intersects with gambling and high levels of individualistic materialism. All at the expense of a welfare state.

The third consideration is that of religion and class.  It may appear moot but where there is greater anticipation of ‘miracle’ cures is not really in the affluent sectors of Zimbabwean society.  Miracles are anticipated by the poorest. So you will probably find that the churches that closed earliest were those that catered for the rich or middle classes. Instead it is the urban and rural poor who would be more inclined to trust what their bishop or pastor says with regards any turn of events.  Hence in part it was largely in poorer Zimbabwe that church services continued sporadically after the government decisions to stop them. 

And again class aspirations come into the mix.  Where we look at a believer from the peasantry, a key anticipation is that their prophesied success resides in eventually either them or their children getting a job/sustainable income in the urban/ peri-urban areas (with the possibility of a car to come with the success). Where we look at the working class urban believer their aspiration is to move from the ghetto, via blessings, to the middle income suburbs and own the equivalent lifestyle property (land, car, smart gadgets).  

The middle class believer wants to move further up the ladder and join the comprador-bourgeoisie in the likes of affluent Borrowdale Brooke or its equivalent.  While the comprador-bourgeoisie would probably like to own property in international destinations such as Sandton in South Africa.  Again, all via faith.  What unites these classes is a materialist perception of religion which while borrowing from the Protestant ethic, is more rabid in its consumptive materialism. 

To conclude, religion will invariably play a part in helping all of us find solutions to Covid-19.  Especially by way of perception and the modification of our human behavior.  It must however be noted that its materialist element(s) need to be redesigned from individualism to the scientific public health interest of all of us.  Where it fails to do this, it will return us to a non-progressive past.
*Takura Zhangazha writes here in his personal capacity (takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)

Friday 27 March 2020

Rural or Urban? Africa in the Time of Corona #Covid19


By Takura Zhangazha*

In the wake of the global Corona virus (Covid-19) pandemic, Reuters Africa recently reported that there are some Africans that are leaving the cities and going back to their rural homes.  Titled, ‘Fearing Corona Virus, African City Dwellers Flee to the Country Side’, the feature story outlines how urban based Africans are going back ‘home’ in the wake of Covid-19. 

While the urban to rural migratory phenomenon may not be as prevalent, the story is all too familiar in our African contexts.  If the urban really fails economically or becomes life threatening in one form or the other, it is likely a lot of us would consider reverting to the rural social safety net. Even if with all our urban acquired trinkets to give new found status back home/kumusha/ekhaya.

Incidentally this was made more stark by a recently published book titled ‘Rethinking the Social Sciences with Sam Moyo” that I am currently reading. And distributed via the Sam Moyo African Institute for Agrarian Studies (SMAIAS).  The latter book outlines the organic Pan Africanist approach used by the late Sam Moyo in researching and outlining rural political economies and peasant struggles for economic justice.  Not just in Africa but also the global south. 

In the wake of Covid-19, the rural and urban health divide cannot be more stark while also more ambiguous.  Especially in the immediate where it concerns  perceptions of where geographical safety or protection from any  pandemic can be acquired from. 

In the previous outbreaks, at least in Africa, they would have been sourced from the rural and found their way via rural-urban migration in our densely populated cities.  In the case of Covid-19, it would not be mistaken to argue that the reverse is true.  Globalised cities and transportation systems would be the ones taking it to the rural.

In the Zimbabwean urban it would appear that because we already live in a global world, our urban challenges would be somewhat similar to other cities elsewhere.  Barring of course the nuances of nationalism, racial identity and ethnocentrism.  Hence on urban motivated social media platforms and lifestyles, what happens in New York could (sometimes inexplicably) be expected to happen in Harare.  Regardless of the differences in the demographics of the two cities. 

And if one were to believe urban social media and its content, Covid-19 is essentially an urban communicable disease.

Partly because the rural is still incorrectly perceived in the urban as an ahistorical a backwater.  In still colonial era fashion, the rural remains the last consideration in relation to the urgency of public emergencies, general public health, access to water, education, transport and of course electricity.
This is why in the dominant discourse on Covid-19 the rural does not feature much.  Technically because of population density questions that emanate in the global north while being inescapable in cities in the global south. 

But here in Zimbabwe, we would know that the majority of our and  a majority of other African countries' populations are in the rural areas.  Hence the response to Covid-19 pandemic must have a very integrated approach. Of the urban and the rural. 

While the communicability of the pandemic may be more prevalent in the urban, it does not make the rural any less important.  Instead it makes the rural more vulnerable to the vicissitudes of the urban political economy. Hence stories such as the one by Reuters on some of us heading back to the rural must be taken seriously even if there is no panicky mass urban-rural migration as yet. 

But then again this is the legacy of the colonial state. As argued by many an academic. The rural is perceived as retrogressive and of limited consequence to not only a national but also a global political economy. 

The reality of the matter is that globalization has not been in favour of sustainable African political economies.  Whether by way of actual job and social security circumstances but also more significantly integrating assumptions of urban-rural development.

We will need to shift from what are now evidently dangerous assumptions of the efficiency of capitalism in urban contexts. Instead we should focus, in the African context,  toward an equitable development model that makes the rural and urban sustainable with regards to public health, social well-being and protection of the climate. 

It’s a hard ask in these consumerist times.  Where lifestyles appear more to matter than shared responsibilities for all in the societies that we live in.  This is moreso the case for us in Africa who still have to contend with the colonial legacy of our rural and urban divide.  Where the latter is always looked upon, even by some of those in leadership positions, with the former settlers gaze of disdain.  Or a wrong assumption that the rural holds true to some sort of authenticity and therefore is never in urgent need of sustainable and climate friendly modernization.  Without being turned into geographical mimicry of the urban city. 

So even in the global crisis that is Covid-19, context still matters.  All lives matter.  Be they urban or rural. And the required response, while technically different in relation to demographics such as population densities, sizes or infrastructural reach, must be an equitable one.  Both in the short and long term.  We cannot go back to the past.
*Takura Zhangazha writes here in his personal capacity (takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)



Tuesday 24 March 2020

Main Actors, Populism and A Tragic View of Covid-19 in Africa and the World.


By Takura Zhangazha*

There have been a number of telling developments around the tragic global spread of the Corona virus (Covid-19).  

In one of the hardest hit European countries, Italy, the mayors of some of its cities went viral on social media telling people to stay at home and stop taking walks or jogs with their dogs.  One mayor went so far as to tell/remind residents something about how all of this is not the equivalent of American actor Will Smith and a dog starring in the dystopian movie, ‘I am legend’. 

In Australia, residents and tourists had to be physically prevented from going to their poplar Bondi beach in defiance of a legal ban. 

Closer to home, there were reports of defiance around the closure of entertainment spaces inclusive of bars in South Africa.

In Tanzania, President Magufuli, insisted that church services would go ahead and insisted that Covid-19 cannot survive in churches.   A move which obviously pandered to a religious electoral base and reflected popular understanding of malady.

Or in Zimbabwe where some African Pentecostal churches keep insisting on meeting despite the advice of the World Health Organisation.  Or the fact of commodity shortages makes many still flock to city centres and markets.   Add to this, political blame games on social media about which political party or leader is handling the situation better and you have a recipe for what I call ‘main-actorism’. A point I will return to later.

The key questions that emerge for me is the motivation at defiance of what are clearly policy positions meant to limit the spread of Covid-19.  And the reality that governments quite literally have to issue final edicts and warnings together with the threat of imprisonment and monetary fines.  

Which means there is either a mistrust of governments’ directives at a time of a global health crisis. Or there is a dangerous nonchalance that betrays how for many survival may be viewed in more individualistic terms that thought of the collective good or public health interest.

So this means that in part, our collective understanding of the seriousness of the situation is subject to assumptions of exceptionalism.  Based on geographical location, class and regrettably in some cases even race (check American President Trump’s labeling  of Covid-19 as ‘Chinese’. He has since retracted the statement. Sort of.)

If you add to the mix social media platforms, hungry as they are for ‘apocalyptic’ content, by way of audiences,  from one geographical location to the next and you have the equivalent of various people sadly assuming it could never happen to ‘them’.  They are only there for the comments. Not to analyze the underlying causes of the rapid spread of Covid-19 let alone the tragic inability of our global public health services to provide treatment to those in need of it. 

This is what I referred to earlier as the main actor syndrome.  A naïve assumption that it cannot happen to you.  Only others.  This is where people fight over toilet paper, insist on living ‘normal’ consumerist lives, insist on going to beaches or bars or crosscheck their personal relations with medical personnel in tandem with their bank accounts.

What is even more interesting is the seeming universality of this latter approach.  High levels of individualism together with assumptions of being able to best look after oneself (particularly how to ‘enjoy’ life) is increasingly making it difficult for government emergency directives to be adhered to.

Except of course in China where, as noted by many columnists/opinion leaders now, the direct control the state has on individual lives as well as consumption (yes its called state capitalism) means that as the pandemic occurred, the state acted with characteristic demonstration of the threat of violence for defiance. (Hobbes anyone?) 

What is very important in our African contexts is how we are viewing the whole picture as we try and prevent Covid-19 from spreading further.  While all donations are welcome, we have to have a more organic approach in the short and long term about our public health infrastructure.  Especially how to urgently renovate and improve it to help the many and not the few. 

The question is where do we learn a new public health approach from? It is easy to follow the lead of developed countries when in fact we should be looking at it from a more organic approach. Everyone needs access to public health and treatment regardless of class, ethnicity or race.  But similarly we need to remember that the sole guarantor of this fundamental right to public health is the state.  Not the private health companies. Not that they should not exist.  

But the priority is that the state must always be able to provide public health services at all times.  In pandemics and in normal times. (Crosscheck Cuba's example)

This may sound repetitive or abstract but it is what the situation ostensibly requires.  A lot of forward thinking even as we try and solve the current crisis.  African governments must show greater determination than they are currently doing.  Things are not going to be the same. They cannot be the same.  And the global north may become even more circumspect about interacting with the global south even while donating medical equipment.

All keeping in mind that, as the Italian mayor cited above says, this is not a movie.  There are no main actors that supposedly survive to tell the tale. In this, we are all equal. But in its aftermath there are many who would wish for an unjust public health system. And that is something we must all work to prevent.
*Takura Zhangazha writes here in his personal capacity (takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)

Tuesday 17 March 2020

Jack Ma’s #Africa #COVID-19 Donation: If Money Was That Simple


By Takura Zhangazha*

Billionaire Chinese philanthropist Jack Ma of the famed Alibaba Group has donated medical equipment for Africa to step up its fight against the Corona Virus, now officially referred to as COVID-19 by the World HealthOrganisation (WHO).  It is a donation, as reported and celebrated in the mainstream (global) media, that is for every African country. 

In the urgency of the global pandemic this is an immediately welcome donation. No matter what part of the world you are from. Mainly because this is a global health crisis that needs all hands on deck.  Even if the donation is not limited to Africa.   Ma will also donate relevant preventative materials to countries that would not want to be known to be in need of such help.  He will also donate preventative kits to the United States of America (USA), Europe and Iran.  

And as quoted in the mainstream media, the main reason he donated is because, "Now it is as if we were all living in the same forest on fire. As members of the global community, it will be irresponsible of us to sit on the fence, panic, ignore facts, or fail to act. We need to take action now." 

He is very correct. Except in a number of other respects.  The rich people of the global political economy probably feel a moral obligation to help the rest of us in times of tremendous crisis.  As he says, “its all the same forest on fire.”

The metaphor he uses is awkwardly interesting given the recent forest fires in South America, Central Africa and Australia which were attributed to the devastating impact of climate change.

As an African it is also important to place Ma’s generous gesture into perspective.  The first being that I, for all my own personal ideological differences with him (not that it matters), I have no choice but to be grateful for any help that comes from those that are already in positions of privilege.  Also in anticipation that my own Zimbabwean government will accept the act of generosity in this very unpredictable global health crisis. 

The second being that I would however retain a serious sense fo trepidation at the fact that Ma would easily announce this to the world.  As another philanthropist who probably has algorithms and human behavioral experts at his behest as to how the COVID-19 crisis would likely pan out.  Especially in Africa, a continent that is regrettably still viewed as one that is a source of many a potential global epidemic.  Or in Edward Said  terminology still ‘orientalised’ together with the Global East. As has recently happened with USA current president Donald Trump’s uncouth, racist reference (not once but twice)  to COVID-19 as a ‘ Chinese virus’. 

Ma probably sees an urgent need to demonstrate his public concern as a necessity. For what has been historically the world’s most vulnerable continent. I would not know what favours he would want from all 55 African Union recognized countries in the potential aftermath of the COVD-19 pandemic, but the generosity does not come without business/profit considerations. And we would all know that, if we were not either in the global health crisis we are in.  Or if we had not been ‘hegemonised’ into an awe of ‘apprentices’ (Trump anyone?) or an assumption that we, even as Africans, can become as rich and therefore as philanthropic as Ma is.

But this is where we are.  And this points to an even more important third consideration.  While we could never have predicted as dangerous a pandemic as COVID-19, we know we could have had public, not private, health services prepared for it.  Had we not taken a route as calamitous as that of abandoning the role of the state in the well-being of its own citizens.   Our still very regrettable penchant for privatized medical services, more as a status symbol than an ability to keep everyone regardless of class, able to receive the best treatment has unfortunately come to haunt us.  That Ma and other philanthropists most likely to follow if not already doing so, identify a void that they probably think only they can fill is an indictment on the state of our public health services. 

As arrived at via ruinous neo-liberal economic policies that left a greater majority of our populations vulnerable to public health crises such as the one we are currently having to deal with. 
To the extent that the key question emerges around the fact that while COVID-19 may be untreatable it is the question of the capacity of our health delivery systems to look after the inflicted to recover from it that matters the most.  Not only in Africa but globally.  The default mode of more privatized hospitals for the rich and less for the poor will directly affect our ability to deal with the COVID-19 global health crisis. 

While the help of philanthropists such as Ma is welcome in emergency situations as at the moment, it is more reflective of our public health system’s shortcomings than their random acts of kindness.  And even from their evident positions of privilege. Almost like in dystopian and apocalyptic films (again- hegemonic) where the rich guy eventually finds the antidote and saves everyone else.  But him/herself first. 

Finally, there is the geo-political fallout between global superpowers such as the USA and China that Ma would inadvertently represent.  Being Chinese, Ma probably knows too well that he also represents his country of origin’s foreign policy imperatives.  Especially in relation to its counter-hegemonic global economic role (if there are billionaires in USA surely the same can and will exist in China?)  And this means the first philanthropist to make an offer that Africa, in desperate circumstances, cannot refuse, will represent more than him/herself. But with the same aim of presenting and re-presenting individual wealth as the proverbial holy grail to public health well-being.  

Or at least intervening to ensure public health well-being particularly for states/governments that abandon their democratic roles of being the guarantors of  social and economic justice for all. 
So many thanks to Jack Ma for the support.  We, in learning from Amilcar Cabral, probably need all the help we can get in our struggles to prevent COVID-19 from being an even more comparatively catastrophic pandemic in Africa. As imagined and as we live and again, struggle against it.  We however do not owe Ma an eternity of gratitude nor do we owe the same to globalized capital that arguably has got us to where we currently, again, globally, are. 

There shall be after effects that are wide ranging from COVID-19. A lot of us would be well aware of that.  One that is most certain, from an African perspective is that we need to get our public health service fully back on track. For the many not the few. With or without Jack Ma of Alibaba.
*Takura Zhangazha is an optimist. He writes here in his personal capacity (takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)


Tuesday 3 March 2020

A General’s Cause, Recognition and Pursuit of Wealth.


A Review of Blessing-Miles Tendi's Biography of Solomon Mujuru 
 Cambridge University Press. 

By Takura Zhangazha*

Blessing-MilesTendi’s biography of late national hero Solomon Mujuru, better known by his liberation war nom de guerre Rex Nhongo, is a riveting read.  Not just because of its subject matter but more because of the uniqueness in which the biography is written. A mixture of the personal with political history, it is a biography that gives a relatively holistic perspective of Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle. Without skirting the controversial issues thereto. Or on our post independence politics.  Tendi’s narrative weaves Mujuru’s life into the arenas of Zimbabwean state-making, liberation struggle/military history, post independence politics including personal fall-outs within the ruling Zanu Pf establishment and finally an unforeseen and horrific death. 

What is more interesting is a different perspective on what were Mujuru’s motivations for the actions he undertook at various stages in his life.  Tendi uniquely looks at possible reasons for specific key decisions that Mujuru made over the course of his life.  This focus on agency seeks to not only humanize Mujuru beyond the myth and present what would be a thorough and candid perspective on the man’s actual life.  Including descriptions of Mujuru’s personal life such as his philandering and alcoholic tendencies.

 It is borderline a psycho-social analysis of the late national hero. A rare angle at writing a biography of Zimbabwean public figures.  And one that must be applauded. 

There are three issues that stood out for me in the biography.

The first being that Mujuru is presented as a man driven by cause. That is, a young man motivated by a desire to end colonialism and racial discrimination from his early years in high school under the night time tutelage and activism of Kumbirai Kangai. Through to his years in Bulawayo where, with his brother cautioning him against joining the Zimbabwe African People’s Union (ZAPU) nationalists , he still persisted.  Even though, as described by Tendi, his intellect was limited based on late enrollment in school and a poverty stricken childhood and a lack of confidence due to stammering.  This determination and motivation by cause found its form in Mujuru becoming an ‘action man’ which suited, as is given in the book, his eventual military training in Zambia.

It was a pragmatism, as outlined by Tendi that would make him initially view the struggle in less politically partisan terms. With a strong desire to act more than politic.  Hence his defection from Zimbabwe Peoples Revolutionary Army (ZIPRA) to Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army (ZANLA).  Which was apparently motivated by the fact that he wanted to fight as opposed to waiting on the political leaders to resolve their differences. 

His commitment to struggle was beyond doubt.  It was not, according to Tendi,  ideological but more pragmatic. Mujuru’s sterling work on expanding and also being at the war front made him legendary among the Zanla guerillas. 

Tendi however makes it clear that Mujuru was however also a schemer of note.  His interventions in supporting Mugabe against the wishes of Samora Machel and Julius Nyerere proved to be one of his most strategic master strokes even though he disavowed the Mgagao declaration.  The formation of the amalgamated Zimbabwe People’s Army (ZIPA) was also indicative of his focus on military action in order to further the liberation war.  And when that appeared to no longer work, he was quick to follow the political leadership of the Dare’s directive to focus on ZANLA once again.  A sore point for some of his former comrades such as Dzinashe Machingura.

Tendi emphasizes that Mujuru sought more to seek the best and most pragmatic way to win the war or to at least make it more effective.  And that the majority of his actions during the liberation war never lost sight of that.  He had an avowed commitment to fight.

The second matter that stands out from the biography is Mujuru’s apparent pursuit of recognition.  From the beginning Tendi makes it apparent that Mujuru would make up for his flaws through his physical abilities and doing the extraordinary or unexpected.  One anecdotal moment in the book is when Tendi describes how Mujuru successfully courted one of the most beautiful girls in his village against the expectations of his brother and sister. 

In his military training he didn’t exhibit all of the intellectualism of his peers but focused at excelling in his military role.  All not so much to be considered normal but more exceptional.  But all within the ambit of the liberation struggle’s ethos and progress. This tendency was what got him recognized as a leader not only by the liberation fighters but also by Nyerere and Mbita ( the latter headed the OAU’s Liberation Committee).   

Tendi also outlines the pragmatic relationship that appeared to have developed between Tongogara and Mujuru with the former recognizing in part the former’s more hands on approach to revolutionary war. And this brings us to a point where Mujuru becomes Tongogara’s successor by default due to the latter’s death in an accident. 

Mujuru would be the commander of ZANLA during the demobilization process.  Tendi accounts for this role by lucidly explaining Mujuru’s interaction with generals that formed the Commonwealth Monitoring Force (CMF).  While he was able to charismatically persuade unsettled ZANLA guerillas to go to Assembly Points he also strategically ensured others would stay in the villages mobilizing for Zanu Pf for the forthcoming elections.  And also telling his counterparts in the CMF that the former would win the general election. 

What  however stands out is how Mujuru sought to get out of what Tendi refers to as the Fanonian ‘white gaze’.  Mujuru was not looked upon as a typical general by his white peers on the CMF and some of them said as much in interviews with the author.  Mujuru held great disdain for any signs of disrespect and or a lack of recognition of his role in the liberation struggle.

A third and final point from reading Tendi’s biography of Mujuru is his post independence role.  What would make many a reader most curious would be what role Mujuru played in Gukurahundi.  Tendi explains that Mujuru may have had no direct role in Gukurahundi and that the notorious 5th Brigade reported mainly to either Mugabe and took orders from either the Minister of Home Affairs (Herbert Ushewokunze) or the Minister of State intelligence (Emmerson Mnangagwa).  But that in any event Mujuru would be complicit in it.

What was however more interesting was Mujuru’s dalliance with the pursuit of individual wealth.  It turns out he bought a decent amount of property.  This was particularly the case in Bindura which Tendi writes was jokingly referred to as ‘Rex’ town due to the amount of property he owned there.  Tendi also writes that this desire for accumulation could have been motivated by the fact of his poverty stricken childhood and a desire to never let his own children get back to those levels of penury.  

There may have been more to it but what is relatively clear from the biography is that Mujuru had developed close links with capital. And, as Tendi writes, the bad turn of the economy would have influenced his fall out with Mugabe and others in Zanu Pf.  Or his rumoured dalliance with the main opposition (Tendi writes that Mujuru would on occasion phone the late opposition leader Morgan Tsvangirai.)
His death in a suspicious fire is narrated in great detail. Especially the alleged missteps of the subsequent police investigation as well as Mugabe’s cold indifference in a cabinet meeting soon after the tragic incident.

*Takura Zhangazha writes here in his personal capacity (takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)  
Blessing-Miles Tendi's biography of Mujuru is available in Harare at Innov8 Bookshops.