NEWSLETTER 2008
Contents:
-How I have survived so far
-My entry into politics
-Odd bits
Apparently Prince Charles originally went out with Lady Di’s older sister. In time, he met her family and discovered a bigger prize. The rest is history. I had a similar experience this year. A bit more on that later. Let’s look at more interesting issues first.
If you wish to see the photos please visit http://gwataboy.blogspot.com
In times of privation such as we are going through, survival is possible but not guaranteed. Here’s a glimpse of my survival strategies this year:
Background
Zimbabwe is reaping the fruits of mismanagement of her economy. For decades the government spent more than there was and effectively printed money to fund the budget deficits. This was and still is a potent fuel for inflation. At the same time they implemented unrealistic price controls and other policies that destroyed formal business. With loss of productivity, the budget deficit got worse, so did inflation. This led to conspiracy theories, witch-hunts and punishment of the innocent plus more destructive policies. And so the self compounding spiral carried on. The overall effect has been loss of vibrancy and relegation of what business remains from formal channels (PHOTO 1)
to squalid informal markets (PHOTO 2).
In some cases the squalor is encroaching upon the Central Business Districts(PHOTO 3)
One of the main causes of urban migration in developing nations is the allure of the relative efficiency that an industrial base confers upon its participants. An industrial base is in effect a virtuous circle facilitating efficiency. Consequently, in a functional economy, even the lowest bank messenger usually has more leverage to accumulate capital than a harder-working rural peasant farmer. The imploding Zimbabwe economy has taken our industrial base down with it. So there are many high powered executives in Harare who are now earning less than a bank messenger in the City of London in real terms. Which explains why emigration to London and Johannesburg continues unabated.
For those of us who remain in Zimbabwe, loss of earnings is not the only woe we have to face. The loss of efficiency in transactions can be debilitating. The damage to our industrial base has brought us all down to efficiency levels comparable to the peasant farmer’s. Add inconsistent legislation and corruption to the cocktail and Byzantine cloak and dagger style transactions become the order of the day. It can take all day to settle a simple transaction not least because of rising absenteeism among the tellers and other workers. They are either too hungry or too broke to come to work. Many organizations that pay their staff in Zimbabwe dollars are now relying on skeleton staff in more ways than one. Significant transactions are now conducted through barter deals and convertible foreign currency.
The major supermarket chains were recently awarded licenses to trade in foreign currency in a bid to encourage them to restock. Those that have must be making handsome margins. Their prices are around three times what they are in South Africa. However such margins are not likely to be sustainable once all the chains stock up. Only Spar have significantly stocked up so far. TM and OK remain palpably wary for now. You can’t blame them though. They sustained serious losses in the pillage that accompanied last year’s price control raids. So it appears to be a case of once bitten twice shy.
During the year I had an opportunity to visit West Africa. The squalor I saw there made Harare look like heaven, even in her current state! Yet Zimbabwe appears more newsworthy than those places which have had perennial cholera since time immemorial. A clue to this paradox might lie in a friend’s personal experience. Jonah Mungoshi was one of the brighter students in his class at school. He had an English master whose first language was English. She was particularly hard on him even though there were many pupils worse than him. Eventually he confronted her about it at which she explained, “The others are beyond redemption.” So there may be a compliment somewhere in all that bad publicity Zimbabwe has had. I believe that in spite of our desperate position, there is still hope for Zimbabwe. That is why I am still here.
Food
In Zimbabwe the virtues of maintaining a rural home have been touted ad nauseam by the older generations, my late father included. Although this sentiment resulted from certain provisions of the Land Tenure Act of the colonial era which restricted Black ownership of property in urban areas, it was vindicated for other reasons this year. With the collapse of commercial sources, my rural home was my source of sustenance this year. All but everything you see on my dinner table (PHOTO 4),
including the juice, came from my rural home. In contrast, a few years earlier, very little of what you see on my table (PHOTO 5)
came from there. We had well stocked supermarkets then.
We fortunately had a decent crop at my rural home this year (PHOTO 6)
which produced a reasonable harvest (PHOTO 7)
(PHOTO 8) 
(PHOTO 9). 
Needless to say we had to organize all the processing all the way (PHOTO 10)
(PHOTO 11)
to the table. The loss of our industrial base ushered in DIY survival with all its inefficiencies. (PHOTO 12)
Water
My house must be near a water main because I only started experiencing serious municipal water supply problems in September this year, long after other areas ran dry. However the quality had been dodgy for a long time. Twenty years ago we did not have bottled water in the shops. Municipal water was that good! Now I am never too comfortable even to wash in it when it runs.
So I had already developed systems for drinking water (PHOTO 13).
I drive 85km to collect drinking water from our rural borehole. There are boreholes in Harare but for drinking water a rural borehole is much more trustworthy. With the collapse of Harare municipal services, blocked sewers can go unattended for long periods of time. Meanwhile some of their contents are likely to find their way into underground water reserves. The incidence of blocked sewers has been exacerbated by the lack of toilet paper in the shops.
Water problems have been following me well beyond the confines of my home. During the year I was a member of the library at a Harare institution of higher learning. This is what I discovered there long before the cholera outbreak. (PHOTO 14)
It must have been a very brave or desperate guy who last used it! So now you know what becomes of used flip-charts. Even when the water supply is restored it should take at least a pick-axe and shovel to clear that bog. It was prudent to control my intake of fluids before going to the library!
It is little wonder that we have a cholera epidemic. In fact the real surprise is that it did not flare up earlier.
Health
In common with much of the civil service, government hospitals have collapsed. Fortunately I have not been taken ill, so far anyway. The only significant health issue I have to grapple with is thyroid function. I lost thyroid function nine years ago due to stress. I had a gearbox problem on the Gwatamatic then that was threatening to scupper the whole business. Even though I did solve he gearbox problem then, the cruel irony is that this year I have lost most of the business anyway. I have to take synthetic thyroxine for the rest of my life.
Initially it took me six months to settle on the correct dosage for me. So it is in my interest to maintain rigorous dosage discipline. With the shortages blighting Zimbabwe, I have on occasions been unable to access thyroxine. This obviously upset my hard-won equilibrium. When supplies resumed, it was no mean task to restore equilibrium as quickly as possible without overshooting it. This is because physiological clearance of thyroxine follows an exponential decay curve, which renders it unintuitive. That is where the thyromatic comes in. It is a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet that demystifies exponential decay. I developed it last year as a curiosity but this year it came in handy as a practical tool. It permits back-solver as well as what-if scenario analyses through a user friendly simple interface(dashboard).
Even though I developed it for thyroxine applications, it turned out to be a general tool that can be used to optimize any system that obeys first order kinetics. I am happy to give it away as freeware. If you want a copy please let me know.
Personal care
At a bottle party the good drinks go first. If there is a constraint in the supply, someone desperate will eventually drink the plonk. Apparently that is one definition of productivity, managing to extract some value out of that which has been written off. I did a lot of that in my bathroom cabinet this year. As shortages persisted, I progressively utilized some nasty toiletries obtained as free samples, raffle prizes etc.
I even washed and attempted to re-use dental floss. Unfortunately it frays a lot after washing. For toothpaste I was luckier. A few years ago I bought an electric toothbrush and it uses much less toothpaste than a manual one. (PHOTO 15)
By far the biggest personal care challenge has been the water cuts. I was determined not to be the first one to smell. So I had to find a sustainable solution. The result is the shawamatic (PHOTO 16).
It was partly inspired by an experience in the Zambezi Valley. A few years ago I went there to visit a missionary from our church and used a bucket shower (PHOTO 17)
for the first time. The water shortage in Harare is sometimes worse than in Binga. So I had to roll back the frontiers further and use even less water. By playing around with the diameter and number of holes in the shawamatic rose, I successfully showered in just two litres of water. That I can sustain indefinitely.
Better still, the shawamatic is simple to make. It is essentially an orange juice bottle modified by drilling a strategically placed breather hole as well as specially designed rose holes. Using a different rose I have managed to wash the car using less than six litres water for the rinse.
Yet another spin-off from the shawamatic development has been a better understanding of the physical chemistry of washing. I believe I now wash a lot more thoroughly than before.
No matter how thoroughly one washes, anti-perspirant deodorant is always essential. There has been no soap in the shops, let alone anti-perspirant deo. Fortunately I discovered Sanex Dermo XXtreme Sport deo by Sarah Lee in South Africa. It is so effective that just a slight dash gives more than 24hours protection. So a 50ml bottle can last up to six months. I tested it under extreme conditions and it did not let me down. Before I developed the shawamatic I once did five days without a wash and I still did not smell, as far as I know anyway.
Business
I did not sell a single Gwatamatic machine this year. Initially it was possible to get by on maintenance contract revenues from existing installations. However, as the year progressed, even that ceased to be worthwhile. With hyperinflation, debtors remittances lost most of their value in the time it took to collect them. So I am now down to living off capital. One capital disposal warrants special mention. I sold two Old Mutual shares and made Z$37quadrillion (i.e. with fifteen zeros) (PHOTO 18).
The same shares were simultaneously selling for 58pence and R9.15 each on the London Stock Exchange and Johannesburg Stock Exchange respectively! The bank computers battled for a few days to capture such a large deposit. It felt good to have more digits in my bank balance than Bill Gates. So look out for this headline in a future issue of Forbes, “Bill Gwats dethrones Bill Gates.” The only problem is that hardly anybody takes Zim dollars anymore, not even robbers. So, the quadrillions are still sitting in the bank.
During the year, the debased Zim dollar gradually became irrelevant giving way to barter deals and transactions in foreign currencies. Accordingly, bank accounts progressively lost their relevance. Then I discovered my personal bank account had been closed for dormancy. I immediately went to beg the bank manager to reopen the account. I still think that infrastructure is worth maintaining. I asked the bank manager whether he kicks out his wife when she is unwell telling her to come back when she recovers. The line must have worked. My account was reopened.
Recreation
In spite of all the privation, there have been opportunities to have a good time (PHOTO 19),
but sadly not too many.
At this time of the year I normally get lots of invitations to corporate Christmas functions. In fact one year I was so tired of Christmas parties that a quiet evening at home became a treat! I wished I could bank some of the parties for use later. In contrast, this year I have not received a single invitation. A friend must have been optimistic when he was invited to a Christmas braai (barbeque) at a fashionable office park last week. It turned out all the host was providing was a fire. The guests had to bring their own meat!
The corporate world is really ailing. Last month I went to a board meeting where the organization could not afford lunch for the board members!
They say a change is as good as a rest. Whenever the trials of surviving in Zimbabwe became too much, I would give my mind a break by plunging into mathematical analysis. I am studying for a mathematics degree with the University of South Africa.
While mathematics is the major, I have chosen computer science and astronomy as electives. At least for this year I found the electives much more fascinating than the core course, in much the same way as Prince Charles found Lady Di more interesting than his original girlfriend. However, unlike Prince Charles, I am not likely to switch loyalties just yet.
I did not have an opportunity for a proper holiday this year. It was hard enough just to keep the food on the table.
Transport
My car turned ten on 14 August 2008 (PHOTO 20).
When I bought it I was expecting to replace it by now. As it happens, I am now further away from that than ever. The only consolation is that it is like an old friend now. We have bonded over the 418000+km that I have been at its wheel.
Looking back it was probably meant to be a municipal car but took a wrong turning somewhere. It has fulfilled many municipal roles in my hands. It has been a dustcart, an ambulance (PHOTO 21),
a public works vehicle (PHOTO 22),
a passenger omnibus (PHOTO 23),
a municipal revenue generator (PHOTO 24)
and a pest control vehicle(stray animal sweeper).
As an older car, it now requires more maintenance attention at a time when most respectable motor mechanics have emigrated. Some previously reputable garages cannot be trusted anymore. They seem to create more problems than they solve. Apparently apprentices are now advancing up through the ranks faster than the speed of light. Besides they charge an arm and a leg just to fix an armrest. So I have learnt to fix many things by myself. Two years ago I did not know there was a thermostat under that bonnet. This year I was fixing it! I am also proud to announce that I can now disassemble and service a slave cylinder without getting brake fluid in my face.
For things that I cannot fix, I have to go on a round trip of 2200km. Ironically, some of the mechanics there are the same Zimbabweans we used to rely on here.
The ambulance service bit was particularly interesting.
For the last ten years or so I have carried a pack of plastic gloves in my cubby-hole for use in any roadside emergencies. On 25 July 2008 I had to use the gloves for the first time. I was pulled over at a police roadblock by Harare South Golf Course (or what used to be a golf course). This is what it looks like now (PHOTO 25).
The young police officer asked me if I could help transport some road accident victims to hospital. He pointed to a lorry standing across the road and explained that the accident had happened further up the road. Apparently the lorry driver had offered to transport some of the victims but he did not have enough diesel to get to the hospital. The officer told me that the ambulance houses had no vehicles and those that did did not have fuel. I did confirm his story. So I rescheduled my travel plans and turned around to load the patients. Two had already died so I took on the three survivors. They were covered in blood and dust. I could see a possible reason why some motorists before me had declined to assist. I wondered if I would have been able to assist if I had a fine vehicle with velvet interiors. As it turned out, a hard wearing rubber and metal lined bakkie was just what the doctor ordered.
The staff members at Harare Hospital were helpful and in surprisingly good spirits considering the conditions they had to work under. The shortage of ambulances turned out to be only the tip of a huge iceberg. They were short of drugs, consumables and even bed linen. The patients had just plain blankets that looked live. The matron told me that absenteeism was now a major problem. Apparently traveling expenses were said to exceed some staff members salaries! Then I attempted to visit the toilet. At the entrance I met a guy emerging from in there who advised me not to go in. Such was the state of the facilities. I obeyed.
Clothing
With the famine opportunities to over-eat have been severely curtailed.
I don’t have a scale to measure my weight but I have gone down a notch on my belt. I have effectively run out of notches now. So I cannot tighten my belt any further, in more ways than one.
The consolation is that I can now use clothes that I could not fit in last year. Those trousers in the picture are one such example. (PHOTO 26)
This is just as well because new clothes are now hard to come by. Edgars for example are now a tiny shadow of their former glory.
My other significant news is my entry into politics:
Politics
In my school days I was a voracious reader of things scientific. I was an aggressive scientist with a condescending attitude towards the arts. However, I have mellowed a lot in my old age. A number of factors have converged to convince me that I stand to make a greater difference through politics than through science. Here are some of them:
1. In the eighties I was studying in the UK on a British Council scholarship. At the time there was demonstration after demonstration by the British home students against Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s public spending cuts. As Zimbabwean students we did not participate in the demonstrations. Our attitude was that it was not our war. Before we knew it, our scholarships too had been cut! The moral I drew from this experience is summarized in the words of Simon Fisher “The bystander stands and says it’s nothing to do with me, until the wave comes over them. Then they realize it had everything to do with them.”
2. Some years back someone gave me an anonymous quotation which says, “Those who consider themselves too smart to participate in politics are punished by being ruled by those who are not so smart.” ( Thanks for that Howard).
3. The credibility of many politicians I knew was deplorable (and still is). So for a long time, I painted politicians in general with the one brush.
Over the last few years, I had opportunities to visit Singapore. I liked what I saw but did not buy the T-shirt. Instead I bought the memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew, the architect of modern Singapore. At last I found a politician who had actually uplifted the welfare of his people! In Africa they generally do the opposite. Gradually I started to develop a positive view of the potential of politics.
4. Over the years Zimbabwe produced some fine captains of commerce and industry whom I admired. I thought Zimbabwe would profit tremendously if they found their way into politics. I hoped against hope that they would eventually enter the political fray. They didn’t. Instead, more and more dubious characters continued to enter politics and entrench themselves. More recently someone spoke to me, “You don’t have to wait for someone else. It’s you!”
5. The final confirmation of my call to politics was on a trip to Mombassa in October 2006. I found Mombassa shockingly filthy and run-down, even for someone coming from Harare. There were shanties in the shadows of big hotels(PHOTO 27).
Many buildings looked like they were last painted by the colonial authorities before independence forty five years ago. In Harare we complain that municipal dustmen no longer collect garbage regularly but someone told me that in much of Mombassa there is no longer any municipal garbage collection service at all! To cut a long story short, as I sat on the flight back, I resolved that I had to weigh in into politics even if only to stop Harare going the same way.
So in March this year I stood as a candidate for the Harare Central parliamentary seat(PHOTO 28).
I garnered a princely sum of 81 votes and lost my deposit. I consider that to be but round one only. I had to start somewhere. Most importantly, I learnt the ropes. Sadly the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission(ZEC) official I found most helpful died in mysterious circumstances. Ignatius Mushangwe, director of training and development at the ZEC, was like a breath of fresh air. In contrast some of his colleagues were more interrogators than helpers. He disappeared in June after practising the courage of his convictions. His remains were identified by his wife in October.
My dream is to mobilize professionals and others who have something to offer to participate in politics. True to Gresham’s Law, bad money has driven out good over the years, so to speak. I sincerely believe that for as long as we leave politics to opportunists, Zimbabwe is going nowhere. It is with that concern in mind that we got together with a few friends and launched the Christian Democratic Party(CDP) on 24 January 2008(PHOTO 29).
However despite our evangelizing, the party is not taking off so far. We are still a small island in a sea of indifference. The holy grail of political parties is usually impact. One of the few, unfortunately negative, tools for measuring a party’s impact is the political blowback unleashed by its opponents. By this standard, the CDP did not have much success this year, fortunately.
In contrast the MDC bore the brunt of serious persecution at the hands of an infamous protagonist. While incapable of suppressing the discontent in Zimbabwe, this unprecedented campaign of violence did cast a pall over opposition political activity in general. Guys who had been enthusiastic suddenly became hesitant.
The New Year
The New Year is usually a cause for celebration. However this New Year does not look too good for Zimbabwe already. Parliament has adjourned until 20 January 2009. That means we are definitely going to enter a new financial year without a national budget having been presented to, let alone approved by parliament.
Familiarity
Familiarity does breed contempt. This year I set out to learn more about two utilities that are cornerstones of man’s welfare, namely the synchromesh and the sun. The synchromesh is a component in a car gearbox that equalizes the velocities of two gears before they are engaged to prevent “crunching.” It obviates the need for double-declutching. It turned out to be a lot simpler than I expected (PHOTO 30).
The structure of the sun also turned out to be simpler than I imagined. Apparently it is just a blob of gas, predominantly hydrogen and helium held together by a gravitational attraction. The core is believed to be a nuclear fusion plasma which is also gaseous. My previous fascination with these two utilities was largely based on their mystique. When that was blown away, I found myself less awestruck.
Quotations
In September 2008, the head of equities at one of the UK’s biggest investors said the repercussions should AIG fail were “potentially bigger than Lehmans. It is too big to go bust. If it does, we will be eating baked beans out of a tin.”
The definition of hardship certainly varies from country to country. Many Zimbabweans today would celebrate if they had baked beans at all, even out of a potty!
“An inspiration to so many during 29 years at the University…” from a plaque at the University of Surrey in memory of George Gordon Gibson, Professor of Molecular Toxicology who died in May 2008.
I can vouch for that. GGG as we affectionately new him, was one of my lecturers in the eighties. He was particularly gifted at drawing order out of apparent chaos and pruning away red herrings. I still emulate him to this day.
“Politicians are like babies’ nappies. They have to be changed often and always for the same reasons.” (Thanks for that Henry).
Have a merry Christmas and a good New Year.
Best wishes,
Will.
PS If you wish to see the photos please visit http://gwataboy.blogspot.com
Contents:
-How I have survived so far
-My entry into politics
-Odd bits
Apparently Prince Charles originally went out with Lady Di’s older sister. In time, he met her family and discovered a bigger prize. The rest is history. I had a similar experience this year. A bit more on that later. Let’s look at more interesting issues first.
If you wish to see the photos please visit http://gwataboy.blogspot.com
In times of privation such as we are going through, survival is possible but not guaranteed. Here’s a glimpse of my survival strategies this year:
Background
Zimbabwe is reaping the fruits of mismanagement of her economy. For decades the government spent more than there was and effectively printed money to fund the budget deficits. This was and still is a potent fuel for inflation. At the same time they implemented unrealistic price controls and other policies that destroyed formal business. With loss of productivity, the budget deficit got worse, so did inflation. This led to conspiracy theories, witch-hunts and punishment of the innocent plus more destructive policies. And so the self compounding spiral carried on. The overall effect has been loss of vibrancy and relegation of what business remains from formal channels (PHOTO 1)
to squalid informal markets (PHOTO 2). In some cases the squalor is encroaching upon the Central Business Districts(PHOTO 3)One of the main causes of urban migration in developing nations is the allure of the relative efficiency that an industrial base confers upon its participants. An industrial base is in effect a virtuous circle facilitating efficiency. Consequently, in a functional economy, even the lowest bank messenger usually has more leverage to accumulate capital than a harder-working rural peasant farmer. The imploding Zimbabwe economy has taken our industrial base down with it. So there are many high powered executives in Harare who are now earning less than a bank messenger in the City of London in real terms. Which explains why emigration to London and Johannesburg continues unabated.
For those of us who remain in Zimbabwe, loss of earnings is not the only woe we have to face. The loss of efficiency in transactions can be debilitating. The damage to our industrial base has brought us all down to efficiency levels comparable to the peasant farmer’s. Add inconsistent legislation and corruption to the cocktail and Byzantine cloak and dagger style transactions become the order of the day. It can take all day to settle a simple transaction not least because of rising absenteeism among the tellers and other workers. They are either too hungry or too broke to come to work. Many organizations that pay their staff in Zimbabwe dollars are now relying on skeleton staff in more ways than one. Significant transactions are now conducted through barter deals and convertible foreign currency.
The major supermarket chains were recently awarded licenses to trade in foreign currency in a bid to encourage them to restock. Those that have must be making handsome margins. Their prices are around three times what they are in South Africa. However such margins are not likely to be sustainable once all the chains stock up. Only Spar have significantly stocked up so far. TM and OK remain palpably wary for now. You can’t blame them though. They sustained serious losses in the pillage that accompanied last year’s price control raids. So it appears to be a case of once bitten twice shy.
During the year I had an opportunity to visit West Africa. The squalor I saw there made Harare look like heaven, even in her current state! Yet Zimbabwe appears more newsworthy than those places which have had perennial cholera since time immemorial. A clue to this paradox might lie in a friend’s personal experience. Jonah Mungoshi was one of the brighter students in his class at school. He had an English master whose first language was English. She was particularly hard on him even though there were many pupils worse than him. Eventually he confronted her about it at which she explained, “The others are beyond redemption.” So there may be a compliment somewhere in all that bad publicity Zimbabwe has had. I believe that in spite of our desperate position, there is still hope for Zimbabwe. That is why I am still here.
Food
In Zimbabwe the virtues of maintaining a rural home have been touted ad nauseam by the older generations, my late father included. Although this sentiment resulted from certain provisions of the Land Tenure Act of the colonial era which restricted Black ownership of property in urban areas, it was vindicated for other reasons this year. With the collapse of commercial sources, my rural home was my source of sustenance this year. All but everything you see on my dinner table (PHOTO 4),
including the juice, came from my rural home. In contrast, a few years earlier, very little of what you see on my table (PHOTO 5) came from there. We had well stocked supermarkets then.We fortunately had a decent crop at my rural home this year (PHOTO 6)
which produced a reasonable harvest (PHOTO 7) (PHOTO 8) (PHOTO 9). Needless to say we had to organize all the processing all the way (PHOTO 10) (PHOTO 11) to the table. The loss of our industrial base ushered in DIY survival with all its inefficiencies. (PHOTO 12) Water
My house must be near a water main because I only started experiencing serious municipal water supply problems in September this year, long after other areas ran dry. However the quality had been dodgy for a long time. Twenty years ago we did not have bottled water in the shops. Municipal water was that good! Now I am never too comfortable even to wash in it when it runs.
So I had already developed systems for drinking water (PHOTO 13).
I drive 85km to collect drinking water from our rural borehole. There are boreholes in Harare but for drinking water a rural borehole is much more trustworthy. With the collapse of Harare municipal services, blocked sewers can go unattended for long periods of time. Meanwhile some of their contents are likely to find their way into underground water reserves. The incidence of blocked sewers has been exacerbated by the lack of toilet paper in the shops.Water problems have been following me well beyond the confines of my home. During the year I was a member of the library at a Harare institution of higher learning. This is what I discovered there long before the cholera outbreak. (PHOTO 14)
It must have been a very brave or desperate guy who last used it! So now you know what becomes of used flip-charts. Even when the water supply is restored it should take at least a pick-axe and shovel to clear that bog. It was prudent to control my intake of fluids before going to the library!It is little wonder that we have a cholera epidemic. In fact the real surprise is that it did not flare up earlier.
Health
In common with much of the civil service, government hospitals have collapsed. Fortunately I have not been taken ill, so far anyway. The only significant health issue I have to grapple with is thyroid function. I lost thyroid function nine years ago due to stress. I had a gearbox problem on the Gwatamatic then that was threatening to scupper the whole business. Even though I did solve he gearbox problem then, the cruel irony is that this year I have lost most of the business anyway. I have to take synthetic thyroxine for the rest of my life.
Initially it took me six months to settle on the correct dosage for me. So it is in my interest to maintain rigorous dosage discipline. With the shortages blighting Zimbabwe, I have on occasions been unable to access thyroxine. This obviously upset my hard-won equilibrium. When supplies resumed, it was no mean task to restore equilibrium as quickly as possible without overshooting it. This is because physiological clearance of thyroxine follows an exponential decay curve, which renders it unintuitive. That is where the thyromatic comes in. It is a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet that demystifies exponential decay. I developed it last year as a curiosity but this year it came in handy as a practical tool. It permits back-solver as well as what-if scenario analyses through a user friendly simple interface(dashboard).
Even though I developed it for thyroxine applications, it turned out to be a general tool that can be used to optimize any system that obeys first order kinetics. I am happy to give it away as freeware. If you want a copy please let me know.
Personal care
At a bottle party the good drinks go first. If there is a constraint in the supply, someone desperate will eventually drink the plonk. Apparently that is one definition of productivity, managing to extract some value out of that which has been written off. I did a lot of that in my bathroom cabinet this year. As shortages persisted, I progressively utilized some nasty toiletries obtained as free samples, raffle prizes etc.
I even washed and attempted to re-use dental floss. Unfortunately it frays a lot after washing. For toothpaste I was luckier. A few years ago I bought an electric toothbrush and it uses much less toothpaste than a manual one. (PHOTO 15)
By far the biggest personal care challenge has been the water cuts. I was determined not to be the first one to smell. So I had to find a sustainable solution. The result is the shawamatic (PHOTO 16).
It was partly inspired by an experience in the Zambezi Valley. A few years ago I went there to visit a missionary from our church and used a bucket shower (PHOTO 17) for the first time. The water shortage in Harare is sometimes worse than in Binga. So I had to roll back the frontiers further and use even less water. By playing around with the diameter and number of holes in the shawamatic rose, I successfully showered in just two litres of water. That I can sustain indefinitely.Better still, the shawamatic is simple to make. It is essentially an orange juice bottle modified by drilling a strategically placed breather hole as well as specially designed rose holes. Using a different rose I have managed to wash the car using less than six litres water for the rinse.
Yet another spin-off from the shawamatic development has been a better understanding of the physical chemistry of washing. I believe I now wash a lot more thoroughly than before.
No matter how thoroughly one washes, anti-perspirant deodorant is always essential. There has been no soap in the shops, let alone anti-perspirant deo. Fortunately I discovered Sanex Dermo XXtreme Sport deo by Sarah Lee in South Africa. It is so effective that just a slight dash gives more than 24hours protection. So a 50ml bottle can last up to six months. I tested it under extreme conditions and it did not let me down. Before I developed the shawamatic I once did five days without a wash and I still did not smell, as far as I know anyway.
Business
I did not sell a single Gwatamatic machine this year. Initially it was possible to get by on maintenance contract revenues from existing installations. However, as the year progressed, even that ceased to be worthwhile. With hyperinflation, debtors remittances lost most of their value in the time it took to collect them. So I am now down to living off capital. One capital disposal warrants special mention. I sold two Old Mutual shares and made Z$37quadrillion (i.e. with fifteen zeros) (PHOTO 18).
The same shares were simultaneously selling for 58pence and R9.15 each on the London Stock Exchange and Johannesburg Stock Exchange respectively! The bank computers battled for a few days to capture such a large deposit. It felt good to have more digits in my bank balance than Bill Gates. So look out for this headline in a future issue of Forbes, “Bill Gwats dethrones Bill Gates.” The only problem is that hardly anybody takes Zim dollars anymore, not even robbers. So, the quadrillions are still sitting in the bank.During the year, the debased Zim dollar gradually became irrelevant giving way to barter deals and transactions in foreign currencies. Accordingly, bank accounts progressively lost their relevance. Then I discovered my personal bank account had been closed for dormancy. I immediately went to beg the bank manager to reopen the account. I still think that infrastructure is worth maintaining. I asked the bank manager whether he kicks out his wife when she is unwell telling her to come back when she recovers. The line must have worked. My account was reopened.
Recreation
In spite of all the privation, there have been opportunities to have a good time (PHOTO 19),
but sadly not too many.At this time of the year I normally get lots of invitations to corporate Christmas functions. In fact one year I was so tired of Christmas parties that a quiet evening at home became a treat! I wished I could bank some of the parties for use later. In contrast, this year I have not received a single invitation. A friend must have been optimistic when he was invited to a Christmas braai (barbeque) at a fashionable office park last week. It turned out all the host was providing was a fire. The guests had to bring their own meat!
The corporate world is really ailing. Last month I went to a board meeting where the organization could not afford lunch for the board members!
They say a change is as good as a rest. Whenever the trials of surviving in Zimbabwe became too much, I would give my mind a break by plunging into mathematical analysis. I am studying for a mathematics degree with the University of South Africa.
While mathematics is the major, I have chosen computer science and astronomy as electives. At least for this year I found the electives much more fascinating than the core course, in much the same way as Prince Charles found Lady Di more interesting than his original girlfriend. However, unlike Prince Charles, I am not likely to switch loyalties just yet.
I did not have an opportunity for a proper holiday this year. It was hard enough just to keep the food on the table.
Transport
My car turned ten on 14 August 2008 (PHOTO 20).
When I bought it I was expecting to replace it by now. As it happens, I am now further away from that than ever. The only consolation is that it is like an old friend now. We have bonded over the 418000+km that I have been at its wheel.Looking back it was probably meant to be a municipal car but took a wrong turning somewhere. It has fulfilled many municipal roles in my hands. It has been a dustcart, an ambulance (PHOTO 21),
a public works vehicle (PHOTO 22), a passenger omnibus (PHOTO 23), a municipal revenue generator (PHOTO 24) and a pest control vehicle(stray animal sweeper).As an older car, it now requires more maintenance attention at a time when most respectable motor mechanics have emigrated. Some previously reputable garages cannot be trusted anymore. They seem to create more problems than they solve. Apparently apprentices are now advancing up through the ranks faster than the speed of light. Besides they charge an arm and a leg just to fix an armrest. So I have learnt to fix many things by myself. Two years ago I did not know there was a thermostat under that bonnet. This year I was fixing it! I am also proud to announce that I can now disassemble and service a slave cylinder without getting brake fluid in my face.
For things that I cannot fix, I have to go on a round trip of 2200km. Ironically, some of the mechanics there are the same Zimbabweans we used to rely on here.
The ambulance service bit was particularly interesting.
For the last ten years or so I have carried a pack of plastic gloves in my cubby-hole for use in any roadside emergencies. On 25 July 2008 I had to use the gloves for the first time. I was pulled over at a police roadblock by Harare South Golf Course (or what used to be a golf course). This is what it looks like now (PHOTO 25).
The young police officer asked me if I could help transport some road accident victims to hospital. He pointed to a lorry standing across the road and explained that the accident had happened further up the road. Apparently the lorry driver had offered to transport some of the victims but he did not have enough diesel to get to the hospital. The officer told me that the ambulance houses had no vehicles and those that did did not have fuel. I did confirm his story. So I rescheduled my travel plans and turned around to load the patients. Two had already died so I took on the three survivors. They were covered in blood and dust. I could see a possible reason why some motorists before me had declined to assist. I wondered if I would have been able to assist if I had a fine vehicle with velvet interiors. As it turned out, a hard wearing rubber and metal lined bakkie was just what the doctor ordered.The staff members at Harare Hospital were helpful and in surprisingly good spirits considering the conditions they had to work under. The shortage of ambulances turned out to be only the tip of a huge iceberg. They were short of drugs, consumables and even bed linen. The patients had just plain blankets that looked live. The matron told me that absenteeism was now a major problem. Apparently traveling expenses were said to exceed some staff members salaries! Then I attempted to visit the toilet. At the entrance I met a guy emerging from in there who advised me not to go in. Such was the state of the facilities. I obeyed.
Clothing
With the famine opportunities to over-eat have been severely curtailed.
I don’t have a scale to measure my weight but I have gone down a notch on my belt. I have effectively run out of notches now. So I cannot tighten my belt any further, in more ways than one.
The consolation is that I can now use clothes that I could not fit in last year. Those trousers in the picture are one such example. (PHOTO 26)
This is just as well because new clothes are now hard to come by. Edgars for example are now a tiny shadow of their former glory.My other significant news is my entry into politics:
Politics
In my school days I was a voracious reader of things scientific. I was an aggressive scientist with a condescending attitude towards the arts. However, I have mellowed a lot in my old age. A number of factors have converged to convince me that I stand to make a greater difference through politics than through science. Here are some of them:
1. In the eighties I was studying in the UK on a British Council scholarship. At the time there was demonstration after demonstration by the British home students against Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s public spending cuts. As Zimbabwean students we did not participate in the demonstrations. Our attitude was that it was not our war. Before we knew it, our scholarships too had been cut! The moral I drew from this experience is summarized in the words of Simon Fisher “The bystander stands and says it’s nothing to do with me, until the wave comes over them. Then they realize it had everything to do with them.”
2. Some years back someone gave me an anonymous quotation which says, “Those who consider themselves too smart to participate in politics are punished by being ruled by those who are not so smart.” ( Thanks for that Howard).
3. The credibility of many politicians I knew was deplorable (and still is). So for a long time, I painted politicians in general with the one brush.
Over the last few years, I had opportunities to visit Singapore. I liked what I saw but did not buy the T-shirt. Instead I bought the memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew, the architect of modern Singapore. At last I found a politician who had actually uplifted the welfare of his people! In Africa they generally do the opposite. Gradually I started to develop a positive view of the potential of politics.
4. Over the years Zimbabwe produced some fine captains of commerce and industry whom I admired. I thought Zimbabwe would profit tremendously if they found their way into politics. I hoped against hope that they would eventually enter the political fray. They didn’t. Instead, more and more dubious characters continued to enter politics and entrench themselves. More recently someone spoke to me, “You don’t have to wait for someone else. It’s you!”
5. The final confirmation of my call to politics was on a trip to Mombassa in October 2006. I found Mombassa shockingly filthy and run-down, even for someone coming from Harare. There were shanties in the shadows of big hotels(PHOTO 27).
Many buildings looked like they were last painted by the colonial authorities before independence forty five years ago. In Harare we complain that municipal dustmen no longer collect garbage regularly but someone told me that in much of Mombassa there is no longer any municipal garbage collection service at all! To cut a long story short, as I sat on the flight back, I resolved that I had to weigh in into politics even if only to stop Harare going the same way.So in March this year I stood as a candidate for the Harare Central parliamentary seat(PHOTO 28).
I garnered a princely sum of 81 votes and lost my deposit. I consider that to be but round one only. I had to start somewhere. Most importantly, I learnt the ropes. Sadly the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission(ZEC) official I found most helpful died in mysterious circumstances. Ignatius Mushangwe, director of training and development at the ZEC, was like a breath of fresh air. In contrast some of his colleagues were more interrogators than helpers. He disappeared in June after practising the courage of his convictions. His remains were identified by his wife in October.My dream is to mobilize professionals and others who have something to offer to participate in politics. True to Gresham’s Law, bad money has driven out good over the years, so to speak. I sincerely believe that for as long as we leave politics to opportunists, Zimbabwe is going nowhere. It is with that concern in mind that we got together with a few friends and launched the Christian Democratic Party(CDP) on 24 January 2008(PHOTO 29).
However despite our evangelizing, the party is not taking off so far. We are still a small island in a sea of indifference. The holy grail of political parties is usually impact. One of the few, unfortunately negative, tools for measuring a party’s impact is the political blowback unleashed by its opponents. By this standard, the CDP did not have much success this year, fortunately.In contrast the MDC bore the brunt of serious persecution at the hands of an infamous protagonist. While incapable of suppressing the discontent in Zimbabwe, this unprecedented campaign of violence did cast a pall over opposition political activity in general. Guys who had been enthusiastic suddenly became hesitant.
The New Year
The New Year is usually a cause for celebration. However this New Year does not look too good for Zimbabwe already. Parliament has adjourned until 20 January 2009. That means we are definitely going to enter a new financial year without a national budget having been presented to, let alone approved by parliament.
Familiarity
Familiarity does breed contempt. This year I set out to learn more about two utilities that are cornerstones of man’s welfare, namely the synchromesh and the sun. The synchromesh is a component in a car gearbox that equalizes the velocities of two gears before they are engaged to prevent “crunching.” It obviates the need for double-declutching. It turned out to be a lot simpler than I expected (PHOTO 30).
The structure of the sun also turned out to be simpler than I imagined. Apparently it is just a blob of gas, predominantly hydrogen and helium held together by a gravitational attraction. The core is believed to be a nuclear fusion plasma which is also gaseous. My previous fascination with these two utilities was largely based on their mystique. When that was blown away, I found myself less awestruck.
Quotations
In September 2008, the head of equities at one of the UK’s biggest investors said the repercussions should AIG fail were “potentially bigger than Lehmans. It is too big to go bust. If it does, we will be eating baked beans out of a tin.”
The definition of hardship certainly varies from country to country. Many Zimbabweans today would celebrate if they had baked beans at all, even out of a potty!
“An inspiration to so many during 29 years at the University…” from a plaque at the University of Surrey in memory of George Gordon Gibson, Professor of Molecular Toxicology who died in May 2008.
I can vouch for that. GGG as we affectionately new him, was one of my lecturers in the eighties. He was particularly gifted at drawing order out of apparent chaos and pruning away red herrings. I still emulate him to this day.
“Politicians are like babies’ nappies. They have to be changed often and always for the same reasons.” (Thanks for that Henry).
Have a merry Christmas and a good New Year.
Best wishes,
Will.
PS If you wish to see the photos please visit http://gwataboy.blogspot.com
and consolidated the little stock there is on a few shelves.
are few and far between now. The business is limping along on maintenance revenues from existing installations. Fortunately I have not gone hungry yet. However, I have become a reluctant paleontologist. Over the last few months I have unearthed fossils from the depths of my fridge and bathroom cabinet. Long forgotten bottles of inferior toiletries won at raffles suddenly assumed new value. I soon discovered that “best before” dates are largely academic. Either that or I was just too ravenous to be a competent judge. I ate many fossils and survived. However, one flopped, in more ways than one. On 8 June 2008 I was on vestry duty at the church. One of my duties was to organize preparations for Holy Communion. Fortunately someone had recently brought back a large quantity of grape juice from South Africa. However I knew finding bread would be a major problem. So I started looking the week before, all in vain. While rummaging through my larder, I was delighted to discover a seven year old packet of dried yeast. So I decided to bake bread. After two hours’ proofing the dough still wouldn’t rise. I lost patience and baked it anyway. I produced something denser than a black hole! It lent new meaning to unleavened bread. It would have been irreverent to serve something like that in church. For my second attempt I decided to use baking powder instead. It turned out a bit better, but still quite dense. 
It took the recipients quite a while to chew just a small cube!
I have exceeded some lesser brands. However, it may be a while before I can emulate the better brands, particularly Kraft’s Miracle Whip which I consider the best mayo I know.
So only the plastic and other hardies go in the dustbin. This system has worked like a dream. After six months I still have only a small mound of garbage.
The only problem is that the bin liners are deliberately designed to disintegrate spontaneously after a while. So I will have to make a trip to the rubbish dump soon or re-pack the garbage. The trip to the municipal rubbish dump is not an experience I look forward to. The last time I went to the Pomona Quarry landfill I was quite distressed by the sight of desperate scavengers foraging through the rubbish. I was in the dumps by the time I left. There is even competition among them. So at one stage it looked like they were going to rip my rubbish bags open while they were still on the truck!
Not only at individual level but even companies now rely on South Africa for some trappings of civilization. In my auditing days I remember browsing through archives relating to some pension funds and discovering that in the first half of the twentieth century they had to rely on Johannesburg firms for actuarial valuations. Then a fine crop of actuaries blossomed in Harare. Today there are only a handful left. In fact the very survival of the financial services industry currently hangs in the balance.
I secretly hoped against hope that that would be the last time I had to go that far for basics. However my hopes were soon dashed as events unfolded in the run-up to the presidential run-off of 27 June 2008.
