A Quick Trip up Borrowdale Brooke

A Quick Trip up Borrowdale Brooke


Mugabe’s new home, well wooded, well hidden in the hills of Brooke

Having lived at State House since his first election as first, Prime Minister, then President of Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe at some point during the past year or so quietly moved out of State House for a slightly more private refuge in Harare’s plush and secluded neighborhood of Borrowdale Brooke.
There had been much talk of this house being built over the past five years, mostly with imported material. One wonders how well a Presidential salary alone could have possibly met the lavish breath of this Sadam-esque Palace.
In preparation for the President’s move to his private home, the roads that lead to his gate were efficiently re-tarred, plugged of potholes, tweaked here and there for width to accommodate his Mercedes Limousine and the fuel-guzzling entourage that rolls after it.
On a bright and beautiful Harare afternoon, fortune came my way and I was driven by a friend towards the direction of Borrowdale Brooke, where Mugabe’s new home lies. Apart from the smooth roads, easily noticeable as much of Harare’s main roads are increasingly potholed, I could not help but notice half a dozen or so, Police substations strewn along the roads towards The Emperor’s new home. Equipped with solar panels and satellite radio technology, the substations were at all times manned by armed guards. The area had long been designated a high security area by ZRP.
Approaching the house itself, I could see the yard go up the hill from the main road, an eight foot brick wall obscuring the compound from full view. The gate is wide and long, and made from a strong wood. The house itself, although I did not see it with my own eyes, -God forbid- is rumored to be all sorts of Asian bamboos and Italian marble by one who visited as a Christmas party guest. Judging from the colossal yard the compound occupies, as well as the enclosing brick wall and wooden thickets that obscure the home from full view suffice it to say the house is all sorts of decadence. (see construction images attached).
Having had a three minute fill, as much a fill as an unwelcome guest can take, we promptly drove away after pretending to have gotten lost and laughed all the way back to the city discussing all sorts of ironies about our beloved country, the obscene poverty and the obscenely wealthy.
Sobering down later that night, it occurred to me how Robert Mugabe’s unofficial change of residency served as a fitting metaphor for the current Zimbabwean crisis.
The Zimbabwean people, it seems, are an orphaned nation. With the official residency of leadership empty, the country is in effect leaderless, and the current 1600 percent inflation, 70-plus percent unemployment rate do little to suggest otherwise. And with the opposition fragmented, one wonders who is on the side of the people. One wonders also, why he has built himself this elaborate prison, isolated and lonely, and a good candidate for a future house arrest stinct. Who knows, with the times.