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My Turn with Tichaona Zindoga

There are a number of subtle things regarding the 17th anniversary celebrations of the opposition MDC-T over the weekend that may have escaped notice, especially of the media.Picture this: Saturday, October 1, 2016 was just another hot day in the second city of Bulawayo suppressed by sweltering heat characteristic of this time of the year.The city itself was sleepy and not even the celebrations of the opposition party in one of its strongholds, stirred life and buzz in town or pretty much elsewhere in the residential areas.

The city was any other colour, but the party’s red. Tellingly, the party had already predicted this and had put a disclaimer that the birthday bash was not going to be a big affair.

This influenced the choice of the small venue, White City Stadium where a paltry 2 000 people or under turned up. There could be more good reasons for this turnout, the first being that there was really nothing to celebrate about this perennially losing party; and secondly, the party itself is so broke it couldn’t muster any significant festivities.

In fact, these commemorations were postponed twice in September and on the 11th hour, the host province wanted to postpone the event again only for party leader Morgan Tsvangirai to overrule the resolution.

So, Saturday was always going to be a dull affair.

But, to give the devil his dues, there are always the party faithful and fanatics that do not conform to expectation or rational laws.

And this set of people largely enjoyed themselves at the half empty White City Stadium in a suburb called Mpopoma.

Then an interesting, celestial phenomenon.

As the formalities of introductions and sloganeering went on, hurtling towards the crescendo and climax that would be the address by none other than Tsvangirai himself, clouds began to gather in the skies.

Rain clouds.

It was bound to excite the imagination of the African mind. Abednico Bhebhe, the MDC-T organising secretary, proclaimed triumphantly that it would rain blessings from heaven. Such occurrences and intimacy between man and nature; of a wet consummation between the dead and living, are not uncommon.

God and man often interact that way to mark ceremonies and important events that serve as markers of time, history and land. So the clouds gathered. Tsvangirai took to the podium and the greying sky began sending thin drops to the ground giving Tsvangirai time to address the crowd.

He told the crowd about his health and the cancer that he was battling. He said he was going to win against it. Tsvangirai characteristically pontificated about what he termed the crisis in Zimbabwe.

Then he pulled out that stupid, but not-so-shocking statement about a “violent endgame” in which he threatened President Mugabe with unconstitutional overthrow.

He said President Mugabe had two options: a “violent endgame” or peaceful transition.

Tsvangirai hoped that the current demonstrations would somehow lead to the fatal shooting of a protester — and that would be it.

(Making one wonder if Tsvangirai and company cannot contrive to pull off such a stunt, what with reports of the importation of military fatigues and arsenal by shady individuals, some of whom are likely to have been part of the Rhodesia’s Selous Scouts).

He said the “violent endgame” could, would, be started by the introduction of bond notes.

Incredibly, Tsvangirai claimed that he would unleash violence “if Mugabe installed his wife as President”.

You could not help the feeling of déjà vu.

It was like year 2000 all over again when Tsvangirai made that infamous statement, in similar circumstances, that, “What we want to tell Mugabe today is that go peacefully or we will remove you violently”.

It would seem that Tsvangirai, in a whole 16 years, has learnt nothing and forgotten nothing. That is almost as clear as day, not least because he has also lost consecutive elections in the same period.

Why Tsvangirai would utter that threat again — in 2016 — is a matter of conjecture, but two possibilities arise. The first is that maybe through that cause célèbre he wanted to get himself arrested again and charged with treason and present a perfect casus belli for a “violent endgame”.

He could likely die, too, say in prison as he is currently unwell, perhaps mortally. It’s not inconceivable that Tsvangirai would want to seek some kind of martyrdom.

Connected to this, Tsvangirai may have wanted to impress especially his foreign handlers that he is still the man he was 16 years ago. Which he no longer is, unfortunately, so nobody was exactly impressed.

The second reason that Tsvangirai uttered that threat, which is in the final and main analysis empty, is that he was just being stupid.

Tsvangirai is a manifestly stupid politician and 17 years of misleading MDC-T, which now nears an inexorable end, has failed to cure his clumsiness.

It has to be stated that Tsvangirai is at the very sunset of his political career as a nearly man of Zimbabwe’s politics and this has been occasioned by ill health, unfortunately, and inevitably because of his own ineptitude.

Let’s see if he has two or more years of addressing similar gatherings and uttering stupid things.

The prospect of seeing the back of Tsvangirai is not a matter of conjecture in and of itself, but rather a matter of time.

This is why one cannot un-see the eager anticipation of one Nelson Chamisa, who is set to lead this organisation after Tsvangirai at the rightful of expense of a tribeswoman called Thokozani Khupe and Elias Mudzuri who, as Bulawayo showed, is getting clumsier by the day and on the wrong side of the clock.

In 2018, Mudzuri and his famed pedigree as former Harare mayor will be veritable anachronisms.

But then it is up to the party and its faithful to determine.

That was, but a digression.

The rain did come, just as Tsvangirai was on his old hobby horse about violence.

The rain was not a blessing, in the superstitious sense and as hoped for.

It was an angry, violent storm that shut stupid Tsvangirai up and washed out the event.

Tsvangirai was standing before the crowd as showers fell lightly for a brief moment before fat driving sheets of rain quickly poured down to the accompaniment of strong, whirling winds.

A small umbrella that an aide cast over Tsvangirai was violently upended in a manner redolent of a gruesome rape.

Tsvangirai had to be whisked from the dais.

The VIP tent could have been a refuge, but this was presently being shaken with such an evil force that it suddenly gave way, getting ripped right across the middle and falling onto people who had sought shelter in it.

It was such a fine mess.

A stampede nearly took place as people scampered out of that cursed tent, including a white American woman.

Tsvangirai was himself spirited away in a convoy and boy, you should have seen how shaken and ashen he looked, in addition to being a shrunken figure as disease takes toll on him, while his aides almost carried him to the car!

The storm dissipated a few minutes later after Tsvangirai’s unceremonious exit.

The party was over.

This may disappoint the likes of Bhebhe, but the rain, with all that violence, could not have been too pleased or dotish with Tsvangirai and his gang.

(A prayerful member of the party later intimated how he also had been shocked by the cataclysm.)

Gods may have their own way of saying things.

And they are not crazy yet.