Duma & Letotse have been on a vomiting spree. Both cats have thrown up at least 5x each in the last 2 weeks. We are treating them with special medicine balls (ground beef) filled with antibiotic and antacids. Like most medicine, it tastes disgusting and the cats got wise to the routine. So, to trick them into eating it, I make one ball of just pure beef and feed it to them, followed by a pharmacy ball. That course of meds didn’t stop the problem so we then began a de-worming program. That didn’t help much either. Their enclosure was looking like a vomitorium. We finally deduced that the vomiting was coinciding with donkey liver for lunch. It was just too rich for them to keep down.
Although the government of Botswana (one of the few multi-party non-racial democracies in Africa) prides itself on the political stability it has, the safety within its borders is debatable. True violent crime is rare (the Americans have that race won) but home robberies are increasing. Last year, there was a spree of robbery here at Mokolodi but that was before my time here. We are on a protected game reserve with a 24 hour night watchman. Our doors & windows are always wide open here but we rely on safety in numbers. Crime requires opportunity...gaps of time where a thief can operate unnoticed. During last years’ crime wave here, the conservation team got together and decided to send our trackers out into the bush to hunt humans. They took rifles and 2-way radios and created a web of stake-outs. One of them came across a stash of valuables, obviously stolen and hidden. Delta Team, sporting khaki camouflage makeup, hid behind the scrub just a few yards from the stash. They heard two men approaching but could not get a clear view. The plan was to shoot into the sky to alert the other staff members. Someone got a little trigger happy (seen too many A-Team episodes) and aimed too low. Blew off his leg below the knee. The only problem was that the leg belonged to a Mokolodi staff member just taking an innocent walk thru the bush and had no clue about the sting. A local clinic donated a prosthetic leg to him and he is still here, limping and bitter. Several attempts to befriend him have resulted in dismissive scowls.
There is a police roadblock permanently setup on the road linking the village I stay at with town. They routinely stop vehicles to check inside cars and for proper licenses and documentation. At night, the checkpoint is manned with BDF (army staff of Botswana Defense Force). Full fatigues, tough-guy military glares, and AK-47’s circling your vehicle looking for a reason to hassle you. My housemate, Thabo, has an early 70’s Toyota Landcruiser (affectionately dubbed “The Mustard Beast” for its faded shade of Dijon) and we all went out one night recently to a pub for beers & biltong (Botswana Beef Jerky). On the way home, BDF stopped us and told Thabo that his brake lights were too dim and that they were going to confiscate the vehicle. We were still 7 miles from home and it was after midnight. He had to sit there for 30 minutes and plead with these thugs to allow him to carry on.
“Gee officer, that’s a might big weapon you carry. Have you ever shot anyone with it? You have such a hard job. I could never do what you do.”
So long as you make them feel superior, you can usually talk your way out of anything. Ultimately, they let us go on the condition that Thabo return the following day to prove he fixed the lights.
Political instability amounting to a full social & economic melt-down is occurring just over the border in Zimbabwe. The Zimbabwe head of state, Robert Mugabe, has either gone insane or senile. He has presided over his country for some 25 years and was once loved and respected for saving his nation and gaining its independence in 1980, effectively wrestling it away from British controlled Rhodesia. In late 19th century, Cecil Rhodes (leader of the British South Africa Company) advanced into what became Rhodesia in 1895 and appropriated the best land to white settlers. The government of Rhodesia was set up “for, by, and of’ the whites. Repressive legislation and racial inequality were weaved throughout the original constitution of 1930, preventing blacks from owning arable land and excluding them from skilled labor & professions. Ultimately, descendents of these racists fled to South Africa and became the links in the apartheid chain once it became clear that a more racially mixed nation was emerging. This is not your drunk toothless skinhead driving around Alabama with a confederate flag fluttering in the wind hanging off the shotgun rack of a truck. This was a much more sinister breed of white supremacy. This was government sanctioned systematic enslavement with no opposition voice, until the world finally woke up and listened to my man Mandela in 1994. [A lack of internet time and a fear of boring anyone still reading prevents me from dishing up a deeper dose of Southern African history. It’s a complex tapestry stitched with white imperialists & native ethnic tribes that I’ve only scratched the surface of but it’s fascinating. Especially early 19th century, a time of competing European colonial powers, (Dutch, Portuguese, Brits, & Germans were all here), the Boer wars, & the iconic Shaka Zulu and his ruthless warriors].
Recent land reform policy coming from Mugabe’s office has created total chaos in Zimbabwe. Inequality (stemming from white dominated Rhodesia) rose to intolerable levels by the mid 90’s as whites owned about 70% of the arable land but comprised less than 1% of the population. A movement to nationalize land-holdings began and white farmers were assured fair compensation by the Zim gov’t, with any shortfalls financed by the IMF. But in late 1998, in a move only his shrink might explain, Mugabe declared he was seizing 1500 white-owned farms but providing compensation only for improvements made, not for the full value of the land (he was spending $2 mill/day backing the Congo regime). This led to breakdowns in negotiations and sparked the anarchy which currently plagues Zimbabwe. Some white farmers freely gave up their land, others took this injustice to court, while still others armed themselves with heavy weaponry and reinforced the barn doors. Then in early 2000, Mugabe wrote a clause into the constitution to allow for the legal seizure of land. He had decided that since European colonialists came in during the mid 19th century and took the land for themselves, that his people (local black Zim’s) may rightfully go take it back…by any means necessary. This gave the local blacks carte blanche to pillage any and all white farms. His policy has effectively unleashed a reign of terror throughout the entire country. Armed black militias roam the country and confront all white landowners. They are given two choices, usually with a rifle or a machete to underscore their point. Either give up your claim to that land and walk away or resist this takeover and watch your livestock be killed, your daughters & wife raped, and you will be burned alive in your own house. The Zim govt. knows the extent of the cruelty but have turned a blind eye. Lawlessness pervades the city streets and rural areas with roving hooded gangs looking for colonial payback to end their land dispute. Since 2000, over 1000 white owned farms were seized and several hundred white farmers murdered in the process. Much of the reclaimed land has been given to relatives and cronies of Mugabe. Although there is validity to his claim of re-appropriating the land, two wrongs don’t make a white.
As a result, innocent Zimbabwe citizens caught in the middle are pouring over the border into Botswana looking for asylum. Last month I was at the Dept of Immigration trying to sort out my residency permit and the place was mobbed with Zim refugees begging for temporary documentation to allow them to stay here. Sadly, these refugees often get blamed for much of the crime here (whether or not they committed it). There are underground crime rings led by Zim nationals that have forced much of this community to build walls with barbed wire, get dogs, and hire night watchmen. Walking alone at night can be sketchy as many of them hide out in the bush and rob at knifepoint. They are resourceful & clever and have devised ways to circumvent local bumbling police by creating networks of hand-offs in the bush to stay clear of the roadways.
The moth hour came early tonite. On any given evening, we are assaulted with a particular breed of annoying insect. Last night it was Flying Dung Beetle night. Tonite, its Moth Madness. Tomorrow, I think it’s either Cricket night or Mosquito night…Ive lost track. Some nights are quiet and still and I don’t need to use my bed netting. Others are loud with the buzz of contemptuous invertebrates invading our space. My favorite is Dragonfly night just cause they look cool. We get some Praying Mantis as well but not in big numbers. Frogs manage to hop their way into our house, especially after the rains. They are politely escorted out cause I don’t want to step on one during a midnight pee-pee and feel amphibian guts between my toes.
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