Will the Real Zimbabweans Please Stand Up?

Personally, I don’t believe in power-sharing. What’s the point of power if you have to share it? It’s one of those ridiculous phrases like “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.” Why the hell not? Why would I want to have my cake but not eat it? So I can grind it up, pour the crumbs in my fuel tank and hope the sugar can power my car? Or perhaps, I could just hold on to my cake and smash it into the face of the next imbecile who tells me the power-sharing agreement won’t work. Pessimists make me so mad.
Ah, you say, you contradict yourself, my brother. No no, gentle reader. I said I don’t believe in power sharing, I didn’t say it doesn’t work. Anything works, if the conditions are right. Well, except NetOne lines. Those just don’t work, plain and simple.
I am certainly praying this power-sharing works. Us poor sods still living and working in Zimbabwe don’t have the luxury of being pessimistic. There is such a dearth of hope-inspiring things in this country, we are elated when something remotely positive happens. So while we acknowledge the freedom of expression our fellow Zimbabweans living abroad have suddenly acquired, we would appreciate them not throwing cold British water on the few things that stop us from slitting our wrists with the jagged edges of our empty, torn Lion Lager beer cans (we have those now).
We must be honest; we have not actually worked in about two years now. Oh yes, most of us made money, but truth be told, we did not work. It was terrible. It’s hard to not work. The lower level Zimbabweans spent their time basking in the sun, waiting in lines to withdraw enough money to get home and back to the bank the next day. Others spoke ceaselessly about this RTGS rate and that cash rate, and made hundreds of US dollars daily by just filling in forms. Us higher level Zimbabweans, executives, I mean, remained cocooned in our plush offices, afraid to admit that our business had since folded and we were guarding the barn long after the horse had escaped. The few amongst us who recognized that the jig was up were far too petrified to go down and mingle with the great unwashed in a pathetic quest to stitch two dollars together and hope it adds to ten.
No matter how eloquently I describe it, if you didn’t live it you won’t understand it. Which leads me the subject of my post, five paragraphs later. I am sick and tired of Zimbabweans living abroad declaring their intense desire to return home “as soon as the situation improves”. What about the rest of us who survived election violence, cholera, and the atrocious English of Patrick Chinamasa and Sikanyiso Ndlovhu? Personally, I think I am the most loyal patriot any country could ever want, to the extent that I am considering selling my patriotic virtues to any other country that may feel it is short on patriots. Zimbabweans still living in Zimbabwe are patriotic to a fault, literally. But back to my point. If you Zimbos in the diaspora think we're going to let you come back in and simply capitalize on our blood, sweat and tears, think again. I am personally on a crusade to make sure that diaspora Zimbabweans do not return en masse to steal opportunities from right under our noses.
Presently, I am finalizing a document to the government that proposes that we close all our borders to Zimbabweans who were living in the diaspora, or the “cowards” as I have heard them referred to in some circles in my head. We who have been in the trenches all along generally agree that we should get first dibs on any and all business opportunities that arise from this miraculous rise from the ashes that is occurring. Diasporans have all spent years riding on lovely, pothole-less eight lane highways while we've endured driving on dust roads with craters the size of Arthur Mutambara’s ego. While you were enjoying Woolies or Debenham’s low-fat cranberry and kiwi yoghurts, we were standing in lines to buy unpasteurized milk in Mazoe Orange Crush containers. It must have been nice for you to know that when you woke up every day there would be water for you to bath and brush your teeth, yes? Meanwhile, we had a bathing schedule here - we bathed when there was water, which in my household was on Mondays and Thursdays. (It sounds like big deal if you've never done it, but it’s not really, especially if you have a car - you just have to stay out of the sun to minimize sweat and keep your AC on high. I hadn't known bathing was so over-rated. Also, sex makes you sweat, so we got more into making love, we weren't into having sex. But, I digress.)
So it is my correct and considered opinion that our entry requirements be made far more stringent. Personally, I recommend the following simple test: Any returning Zimbabwean who cannot fill in an RTGS form in full in thirty seconds or less direct from memory should be not only barred, but also deported back to whatever colonial hideout they came from. This exercise should continue until at least 2020, or until we are positive that there are few opportunities left to be exploited – whichever comes soonest.
I hope my proposal doesn’t make anyone angry. Actually, I don’t care. This is the freedom of expression that comes with democracy. Isn’t it?

zakeozim@gmail.com