Election fever

Weather - Average temperature 30 degrees Celsius

- Rainfall zero

Highlights of the week

Sundowners are now a weekly feature. We ate at the best restaurant in The Valley. I’ve discovered my poker-face.

Lowlight of the week

The Lions lost a tight match against the Springboks. Springbok supporters celebrating loudly grates as the Lions lick their wounds.

As I start to write this blog, election day in Zambia draws near. August 12th will be in the past by the time that you read this post. This is not the first time that we have been in Africa at election time. We cast our memories back to Zanzibar 1995. Keith proudly wore a tee-shirt then that predicted The first free and fare (sic) election on Zanzibar. It was neither free, nor fair. On the day of the election, the head of the electoral commission went missing. Votes were lost, or perhaps miscounted. Irregularities were noted by international observers. The ruling party was re-elected. Any dissent was quickly suppressed. There were no official casualties. One Zanzibari friend, an educated colleague, earnestly told us that justice would be done: “The Americans are coming.” The Americans did not come. VSO had considered taking us off the island, fearing widespread disruption and riots. The riots thankfully did not occur. Perhaps because of political apathy, or more likely because of fear of reprisals from the ruling party. We just hunkered down at home, 40 miles from Zanzibar town, and waited. Slowly, life got back to normal. Our friends and colleagues shared their disappointment and sense of resignation with us. Same old, same old.

We have experienced countless elections in the UK. They don’t rock my boat. There is nothing more tedious than a UK election campaign. The parties have 4 weeks to get their message across. The media report it with different slants, depending on who is pulling their strings. The Tory-graph and The Daily Mail lean to the right. The Guardian and The Independent lean to the left. The BBC try to stay neutral. On any given day, access to information is easy. And you can choose what to believe. There are pithy soundbites everywhere. All the parties have slogans. And then comes election night. People stay up watching crazy schematics. Red, blue, yellow. Advancing and retreating. Just like the title sequence for Dad’s army. But more colourful. But my boat stays stock still. Un-rocked.

Elections in Zambia are a whole new ball game. Zambia achieved independence from its colonial rulers in 1964. The first president was Kenneth Kaunda. KK led a 1 party state until 1991. At that time, he bowed to pressure and agreed to the first democratic multi-party elections. He was immediately voted out of power! He accepted the result and stepped down gracefully. How un-African. Zambia was going places. Even without KK the country prospered. There was a huge amount of copper, and the world was keen to exploit it. Times were good. The country grew its economy and the local people thrived. Fast forward 20 years: Zambia’s economy is now in its boots. Inflation has soared. Unemployment has rocketed. Food has become more scarce. Chinese investment appears to have propped up the economy. But can the country afford the loans and influence that come with the new internationally-backed projects? The jury is out. The jury are set to deliver their verdict on the 12th.

Our role here is not to meddle in political affairs. It is far safer for us to talk in riddles to give a sense of the fairness of the system here. America and the United Kingdom have their own share of malpractice in the polling booth. Zambia is just another example of same problems but different country. Imagine that the organiser of a cricket match decided that he was not going to allow the opposing team to practice before the match. Perhaps the supporters of the opposing team don’t get to see, or to hear, them preparing (campaigning) for the match. And then on the day of the match: all of the away supporters are blindfolded. They can’t even use their phones to watch, or listen to, the match. Did anyone mention a social media blackout? The organiser might as well just pick up his bat and the ball and declare a home win. Game over. Let’s just say: it’s not cricket.

How convenient that the new international airport terminal was opened by the incumbent the day before the election. This is not the only fudge that has been made in the run up to election day. Fuel has conveniently stayed at 50p per litre. Smoke and mirrors. The country is doing fine. Vote for me. I’m great.

The imminent election was heralded by a commotion at the end of our working day last Wednesday. We were about to fetch our groceries on our way back home for lunch. Our progress was halted by a cavalcade of vehicles and people. Car horns were blaring, engines were revving. Loud-speakers blasted out energetic music and a melee of people were running after the cars. Singing and shouting. The whole entourage wore green tee-shirts or green chitenge. Free clothing was being handed out to those willing to join in. The hubbub passed within 5 minutes and we managed to cross the road to the grocery store. But as we tried to leave the grocery store the green team retraced their steps and left the village the way they had come. With a similar chaotic din.

The following day a similar charade was enacted. But this time in red. The players looked uncannily similar. Red freebies for supporters of this cause. Surely they could not have all changed allegiances so freely? Keith and I reminisced on the Yorkshire start of the Tour de France in 2014. We had lined le Cote de Grinton Moor, just outside Reeth. Expectant. Waiting for Yorkshire’s finest hour. But in advance of the cyclists’ arrival, the publicity caravan arrived, throwing out free shirts and free hats. Those fortunate enough to grab a trophy or two wore the shirts and hats with pride. Keith still treasures his polka dot cap. We skip forward in time and swap continents. Free clothes for poor villagers, many of whom have not had new clothes for a couple of years? A no brainer? Of course we will vote for you….and for you.

One of the motorcades was followed by a truck full of armed policemen in riot gear. I will leave you to speculate which motorcade might have been shadowed by such harbingers of doom. The riot police looked like teenagers. A sure sign of my own impending senescence. The police, and the other doctors, look so young these days.

We will not delve too deeply into politics and policies here. On a need to know basis: there are two main parties. The red party and the green party. The incumbents are green. The incumbents seem to hold all the aces (like me last night ). Game over? Watch this space as the media blackout lifts. For now: it’s time for us to hunker down at home and to avoid the big city. Safe from lions and elephants and riots. Oh my. What will be, will be.

… 14th August … communication and social media restored … how did I manage without Facebook and WhatsApp for 48 hours … no result in yet … it’s expected tomorrow … meanwhile … the shops are shut and the country waits …

Baboons playing at their new waterhole

In the midst of a consultation

The gag is realised

Sundowners by the Luangwa River