Dear Family and Friends,

On a few days away, heading south from the capital, the view from the window is a Zimbabwe that is hot and dry and golden brown. Rivers that were churning and thundering, overflowing their banks and breaking bridges just three or four months ago are again dry, littered with rocks and boulders and filled with deep yellow sand. The grass everywhere
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Dear Family and Friends,

We are expecting a flurry of activity from usually invisible Municipal workers who will suddenly start filling potholes, cutting roadside grass and putting up bunting in advance of next weekend. It’s the same every year: whenever government VIP’s are expected in town the carpets of illusion are rolled out and usually apa
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At my local Parliamentary Constituency office a deep gully adorns the road outside and a  rusty, barely legible signboard mostly obscured by the branches of an overhanging tree, proclaims that this is the “Parliamentary Constituency Information Centre.” This is where you go to register births and deaths, get national Identity Documents and register to vote. It&rs
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Dear Family and Friends,

Winter came to Zimbabwe this week with cold, grey skies and freezing nights. A very unusual heavy downpour of winter rain filled with hail stones in my home town left everyone running for cover and wrapping blankets round their shoulders. All week, as temperatures dropped I couldn’t get m
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Dear Family and Friends,

I am writing this letter with the Constitution of Zimbabwe open in front of me. Outside on the road I can hear a man calling out: “kunama poto” (fixing pots) as he walks around the neighbourhood. A young man, in his late twenties, he has a small blue and grey rucksack on his back and carries a gas welder everywhere he goes. This young
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