Friday, April 4, 2014

Keep Your Greedy Corrupt Hands Off Them

A Billion Dollar Note
HARARE, ZIMBABWE: “No one works here,” my driver to the hotel tells me. “And the few that do, don’t get paid. We don’t make anything anymore. All the industries have been shut down. We now have 80% unemployment and have to import everything, even our currency.” The official currency is the U.S. dollar but try to change a twenty for something smaller and you’ll get a blank stare. Sometimes you can find someone who will break a twenty for Botswana pula or South African rand, but at decidedly disadvantageous rates. Even the banks struggle and are unwilling to give you more than a couple of fives or maybe, if you’re lucky, five ones; and those are always blackened and threadbare having passed through thousands of hands. Of course, there are no U.S. coins. The result is that you often end up paying more: The 20-minute taxi ride to the hotel cost $30, the hotel room $200, and a small paperback novel, $25. In 2009, Zimbabwe gave up trying to keep up with the hyperinflation and went to the U.S. dollar. At the time a two billion dollar Zimbabwe note was worth one cent. Now street hustlers try to sell them as souvenirs for several dollars. As we pull up to the heavily guarded Holiday Inn, I say, “I have only a $100 bill. Do you have change?” The driver shakes his head; “I can break it for two $50s.” I’m being taken, I think, and say, “The hotel must have change?” The driver reluctantly agrees. Half-hour later, I get the correct change, but only after one of the porters goes to the gas station across the street.


The next morning I ask one of the clerks, “With such high unemployment, how do people survive?” “It’s very difficult,” he sighs. “I’m so grateful that I have a job and one that actually pays. You see many companies don’t even pay their employees.” “But then how do people survive?” He shakes his head, “Peddling mostly, or doing odd things like guarding or washing cars.” Outside, I decide to buy the paper. The headlines read, “$7 Billion circulates in informal sector.” It seems the government wants to regulate this sector involving 2.8 million people. A government spokesman is reported as saying, “Just imagine if the 2.8 million people were to pay $1 per month, what that would contribute to our fiscus.” I decide to dig deeper. There are vendors everywhere. I show the newspaper headline to a flower vendor. “Are you a part of the informal sector?” I ask. He doesn’t understand and so I show him the newspaper. He reads it slowly and carefully and then laughs, “Yes, yes, I am!” “So, what do you think of this idea?” It’s stupid. It’s a joke. It’ll never happen.” I continue on asking various vendors and basically get the same response. One vendor, selling sandals, explains, “We don’t want to do this. There’s nothing left for us to do. If they would open the factories, we wouldn’t have to do this. Registering us and collecting taxes will never happen. If they take away our businesses, what then?” Harare is a scary place because of all the unemployed young men you see loitering around, but those peddling are not the problem. They are the country’s only solution for now. Among them is the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. My advice to the Zimbabwe government: “Keep your greedy corrupt hands off them!”