Zimbabwe: A Legacy of Indignity and Pain
In April of this year yet another Zimbabwean joined the staggering statistic of Aids related deaths. But Abel Phiri (real name withheld for the safety of his family) was not just a statistic, he was a man born with the same hopes and desires common to all humanity. The story of his sad end, as told by a concerned and compassionate friend, brings home the tragedy of life and death in this ravaged country. In the last year of his life, Abel Phiri’s meagre savings kept his family of six barely fed in a time of staggering inflation and dire food shortages. The year of untold misery was made even more agonizing by the poor health of his two youngest children.
SOKWANELE
Enough is Enough
Zimbabwe
PROMOTING NON-VIOLENT PRINCIPLES TO ACHIEVE DEMOCRACY
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Sokwanele reporter
July 10, 2004
A Legacy of Indignity and Pain - From generation to generation
In April of this year yet another Zimbabwean joined the staggering statistic of Aids related deaths. But Abel Phiri (real name withheld for the safety of his family) was not just a statistic, he was a man born with the same hopes and desires common to all humanity.
The story of his sad end, as told by a concerned and compassionate friend, brings home the tragedy of life and death in this ravaged country.
In the last year of his life, Abel Phiri’s meager savings kept his family of six barely fed in a time of staggering inflation and dire food shortages. The year of untold misery was made even more agonizing by the poor health of his two youngest children.
Ndlovu (again real identity concealed) brought to light Abel’s story and came to know Abel through his work with a voluntary Aids organization. Ndlovu helped feed the family throughout the year and tried, in his financially limited way, to be of assistance wherever he could.
Abel died and the police instructed the family to use undertakers to remove the deceased. But Abel’s coffers were bare, with only Z$675 (approximately US$1) left in his account. Undertakers charge Z$25000 per night for use of the mortuary, so the family contacted their friend, Ndlovu.
They took the body in a borrowed private car to the state hospital, Mpilo, to place Abel in the mortuary there. Upon arrival they were barred from entering by the policeman manning the mortuary, Assistant Inspector Chirambaguwa, who first insisted that only undertakers could enter, then claimed only those who die at the hospital can be held there and finally alleged the hospital superintendent was away in Harare.
Ndlovu is well aware that the police are keen to get their usual commission from the undertakers with whom they have a deal to prey upon unsuspecting and ignorant mourners. Civil servants follow the lead of their corrupt zanu role models and are also victims of spiraling inflation and low salaries. Ndlovu held his ground and was ultimately allowed to proceed with the body when he rightly insisted that state facilities are open to all citizens.
At the Mortuary
Ironically, Mpilo Hospital’s name, literally translated, means “life”, but now has become a place marked by death and decay. The mortuary there receives an average of one body every two hours. The young undertaker in charge makes a fair living washing bodies for families afraid to touch their loved ones, especially those who have died of Aids related diseases.
Ndlovu writes of his experience,
“The undertaker opened the big door from the East. Although we had masks on the smell was so heavy and powerful that people within a radius of 50 – 100 metres will catch it. Only a minute of it was enough to make someone fall. A peep into the main refrigerators when he opened only a portion gave me the shock of my life, legs of dead people mixed black, coloured and white all just piled on top of each other. It was horrific, the bodies were just beyond the imagination - that people should be packed like heaps of bricks. I counted about seven decomposing bodies which were lying on the floor.”
“While we were watching the young undertaker was just busy shoving the shelves just like a baker, baking bread or buns. He was energetic, just jumping over those on the floor, packing others and looking for a space. He picked up our body, stuck on the tag, took the trolley and pushed it in the shelves and all was done. It was worse than the horrors one sees on films. The experience was excessive to see that people are dying like flies.”
Ndlovu goes on to say he can no longer eat meat, especially pork, and ends his account with another verse in the sad lament of Zimbabwe.
“Mpilo now is the place to send a beloved to die. No drugs, no doctors, no nurses, no food, no equipment, no attention is given to the patient as it used to be. Health delivery has virtually collapsed and government is running away from its core mandate and promise of health for all by 2000, it is now death for all.”
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