By Takura Zhangazha*
Electricity and access to it is a big issue in Zimbabwe at
the moment. Not least by admission of
our own government but more importantly by the lived realities of many urban based
Zimbabweans, civil service workers, social service providers, informal traders
and formal or informal private business owners. I have mentioned ‘urban’ Zimbabweans
because that is where the medium and commodity that is electricity is most
used, most craved and because of low connectivity to the national power grid in
rural areas, most needed.
So understandably emotive urban conversations about power
cuts are focused on determining (as with every other problem the country has)
what the cause of the heavy load shedding is.
The reasons range from allegations of corruption about alternative energy
supply tenders (Wicknell Chivayo and cohorts), connected politicians and actors’
inability to pay humongous energy bills, the shortage of water in Kariba, inefficiency
at the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (ZESA) and most significantly, the
inability or refusal of consumers to pay for electricity.
The cabinet minister responsible for the supply of
electricity, Fortune Chasi, has already
indicated that he is of the firm persuasion that people must pay their debts toZESA.
In other relatively privileged conversations, not so influential persons have
strongly recommended in tandem with the intentions of government that
electricity tariffs will eventually have to increase for domestic household and
commercial users.
Some informal elitist opinion would immediately point to the
possibility that those who can pay should be able to do so as long the
commodity is available. In fact, one of
the elitist jokes doing the rounds is that ‘it is no longer pragmatic to pay a
Multi Choice digital satellite television monthly subscription if there’s no
electricity?’ Or alternatively, it is better to pay in order to get the commodity
that is electricity to be available to you personally. Never mind those that cannot
afford because for our elites, it would be assumed to be better if they were off
the grid altogether!
With an ever expanding urban population, electricity supply
was always going to be a major problem for Zimbabwe. And not only just because of the demographics
but also the changing use and need for electricity. New(ish) gadgets such as the ubiquitous
(smart) mobile phone, laptop, smart television, digital decoders, wireless network
routers, the need for internet access and rechargeable audio speakers, everyday
electricity use was always going to rise spectacularly.
These examples of electric gadgets are not just for the sake
of tech-savvy perceptions of the same.
They are reflective of a changing Zimbabwean (urban and peri-urban)
lifestyles. Even if one cannot really
afford some of the gadgets, the intention is to own or share one laptop, mobile
money phone and (bar-stool) football match motivated satellite TV decoder.
For mobile telecommunications companies
(MTCs) power cuts as evidenced by a
recent glitch in connectivity for Zimbabwe’s largest one, Econet, the electricity shutdowns also have as serious dent on profit and reputation.
Even though the most affected by the latter is the small to medium enterprise
that relies heavily for example, on mobile phone money transactions. So where there’s no readily accessible electric
power, there is basically no individual happiness of access to social media but
more importantly limitations to accessing private profit (with some sort of
state tax) on the basis of a keen desire by many Zimbabweans to be ‘online’.
Or in the case of political activists of any hue, there is potentially
no capacity to mobilise via social media for assumedly urgent political
causes. A development that would no doubt
be welcome to either the ministry of home affairs, the police and domestic or
other ‘intelligence’ agencies. The key
issue in this instance is that whereas in the last year we have had internet
shutdowns, we now have electricity shutdowns. A situation in which the primary
source of the medium (electricity) being the message is not just its content
(social media) but its mechanism (again, electricity).
What the last month of these severe power shortages in
Zimbabwe also indicate is that electricity is not just an anticipated ‘medium’
or ‘commodity’ that enables a ‘normal’ literally powered (urban) existence but
that it is now highly personal. Almost
to be popularly considered a private right more important than a number of
others that would be less immediate or linked to technological or ‘modern’
aspects of our everyday lives. Hence the
scramble for options such as domestic solar energy, electric invertors and gas
stoves, if you can afford any or all of the above. Or alternatively to ask the ‘urbane’
question, if you don’t have electricity and what it allows you to access, what
else can you have?
And there’s the rub.
The Zimbabwean government has embarked on a default privatization of
access to electricity that most of us do not see out of desperation for the
commodity. By the same default, they
have come to control what we can access on social media and mobilise for when
our mobile phone batteries are flat or the MTCs have run out of petroleum gas
or solar power fuel to keep their base stations operational.
Even if we are sometimes in the right loop about solar
energy and mitigating climate change, which factually we, in the global south
and in Zimbabwe have contributed an almost negligible amount to be accused of having
significantly caused by way of our economic or social activities.
So our electricity crisis puts us as Zimbabweans at a difficult
standpoint. None of us in urban or rural
areas want to miss out on the ‘bright lights’ but we may miss out on how the
same was used to help determine our expectations of what it is to live among
the ‘enlightened’. With a fully charged mobile phone battery, a private
hospital that’s got a backup system for electric power and a landlord with an
inverter. We will suffer and we will hopefully continue.
By the time our local minister of energy gets to a relative comfort
zone of declaring a normalcy of supply of domestic and industrial electrical
energy, we will still have to first ask ourselves the questions of how do we
charge our mobile phones, exchange mobile money or watch television and have
lighting in our domestic functions if we do not have money. Hence in some circles the debate is ‘if you
cannot pay, you do not get.’ The latter being a casual turn of phrase that is for the few, not the
many, despite our expanding urban demographic.
Takura Zhangazha writes here in his personal capacity
(takura-zhangazha.blogspot.com)