Online Reporter
Communion with Bishop Lazarus
Those who grew up in the village would have certainly learnt in the most painful way imaginable that it is not such a good idea to stir a hornet’s nest.
WE all did.
Those little winged demons, armed with nature’s hypodermic needles, surely know how to deliver an excruciating sting.
And for some mischievous reason, they were, or still are, fond of nesting in mango trees and orchards.
In one of his rare visits to the village, which incidentally became his last, Bishop Lazarus’ cousin — a hoity-toity spoilt brat who thought that every villager was an idiot — learnt this crucial life lesson the hard way, courtesy of these creatures.
On the fated day, he strayed to the village orchard, which, by this time of the year, had an endless parade of mango trees that were literally bowing under the weight of fruit so luxuriantly golden and fragrant.
Brushing aside all counsel to approach the trees with caution, the brash young man decided that no one would stop him have his way.
Considering his expensive outfit, he thought to himself that he could not climb the tree like a common thief.
He settled on using a long stick instead.
His master plan was to stand at a safe distance, lasso the stem of a particularly plump mango and give it a sharp tug.
The mango would fall, he would feast and the hornets, which he assumed were as stupid as they were angry, would be none the wiser.
He duly crept to the edge of the orchard.
He spotted his prize: a mango so ripe it looked like it might explode into sweet, fibrous joy at any moment.
He took a deep breath and extended the stick to his intended target.
It wobbled.
He steadied it, carefully looping the string around the mango’s stem. Perfect. He had it. He gave a gentle tug. The stem held firm. He tugged a little harder. The mango bobbed, tantalisingly close.
He braced his feet, leaned back and put his entire body weight into one mighty, triumphant tug.
The mango snapped free.
However, in that very moment, what started as a seemingly imperceptible hum from the airborne secret lurking in the tree turned into a deafening buzz.
It sounded like trouble.
For a single, beautiful second, there was silence.
Then the world ended.
The hornet’s nest erupted. It was no longer buzzing; it was roaring.
A dense, black cloud of pure fury spewed forth, and every single one of them had a personal vendetta against the idiot with the stick.
Well, the urban idiot did not wait. He turned and ran. He ran like the wind, like a cheetah, like a boy who had just declared war on a thousand tiny, winged demons and was losing badly.
The air behind him vibrated with the sound of a thousand tiny, high-pitched engines of hate.
He could feel them gaining.
In that moment of panic, his only hope was a poodle that lay at the edge of the orchard.
He could see it, a shimmering promise of safety just a field away.
He ran faster, his lungs burning, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He was only a few metres from safety when a searing, white-hot needle of fire plunged into the soft skin just above the waistband of his designer shorts.
Right on his lower back.
He shrieked, a sound that was part scream, part yodel and part desperate prayer.
The sting was so shocking, so unexpected, that his entire nervous system short-circuited.
His legs, which had been operating on pure adrenaline and terror, suddenly forgot their purpose.
One foot caught the other, his arms flailed like windmills in a storm and he launched himself not in a not-so-graceful dive, but in a spectacular, flailing, belly-flopping arc.
He hit the water with a sound like a sack of wet cement being dropped from a great height.
Muddy water exploded everywhere.
He surfaced, spluttering, gasping and swatting at his back.
The hornets, apparently deciding that their point had been made, hovered over the water for a moment before buzzing back to their violated home.
Bishop Lazi’s cousin just floated there in the green, murky water, staring up at the sky. His back throbbed. His pride was in tatters.
He had learnt his lesson, albeit in an excruciatingly painful way.
Surely, the wages of stupidity are grief.
We all tried to hold back the giggles before exploding in unrestrained bouts of gratuitous and uproarious laughter.
What a mess!
Gentle reader, in these troubled
times we are living in, you can take Trump as the spoilt brat and Iran as the winged hornet.
Despite the best advice of his top generals, Trump, together with his now-anonymous buddy Benjamin Netanyau, decided to go on a frolic of his own in the Middle East.
And what a mess it has been for the world, what with the gyrating price of oil — the main ingredient in every other activity on Earth.
Proverbs 16:18-20 warns: “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall. Better to be lowly in spirit along with the oppressed than to share plunder with the proud. Whoever gives heed to instruction prospers, and blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord.”
Proverbs 24:3-7 also advises: “By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. The wise prevail through great power, and those who have knowledge muster their strength.
“Surely you need guidance to wage war, and victory is won through many advisers. Wisdom is too high for fools; in the assembly at the gate they must not open their mouths.”
Indeed, foolish leaders destroy, while wise leaders build.
Thanks to the wise leadership of President ED, the foundations of Zimbabwe’s economy that have been laid down over the past eight years are currently holding despite the tremors in the global economy.
Zimbabwe is no longer as vulnerable as it once was.
Under the Second Republic, we have transitioned from a nation of shortages — which used to manifest in endless queues of everything, salt, cooking oil, maize, bread, fuel — to a nation that is proud, bold and assertive about its future.
How quickly we all forget.
In the old days, our currency, which was highly susceptible and extremely sensitive, would by now have been under extreme pressure, and prices would have by now begun trotting northwards.
The market seems to now realise that with a war chest of US$1,2 billion reserves, the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe can easily defend the local currency from volatility, thus managing inflation expectations.
This can be traced to ED’s directive for mining companies to pay their royalties in kind rather than in cash starting October 1, 2022.
No doubt, the record period of stability, stretching from around September 2024, is likely to continue for the foreseeable future, thanks to a hawkish central bank.
Durable growth
But, as the country transitions to its new five-year economic plan, the National Development Strategy 2, the emphasis is now on anchoring future, durable growth through adding value to our minerals, which, in other words, is the hallmark of industrialisation.
In the past few weeks, Zimbabwe took two consequential decisions that will likely shape its future: walking away from a US$367 million lopsided health deal with the United States and banning raw mineral exports.
Spurning this offer not only underlines Harare’s sovereignty but also asserts its determination to take the lead in financing its health sector.
Zimbabwe has already been designing contingency plans to cover the needs of this critical sector, especially after it became apparent that donors were beginning to withdraw.
This is why Treasury last year allocated about 15 percent of the total budget to health, in line with the 2001 Abuja Declaration.
The decision to ban raw material exports, however, could prove to be epoch-defining.
For far too long, this has been the conduit through which our mineral wealth was being salted away.
Abruptly halting exports — a measure that is likely to result in short-term pain but long-term gain, considering the integral role of mineral exports — is nothing short of boldness.
The nation’s gaze should now turn on value-addition projects and plants such as the US$13 billion Mapinga Mine-to-Energy Industrial Park and the US$3,6 billion Palm River Energy Metallurgical Special Economic Zone project.
The multiplier effect of such projects, together with the Local Content Policy, will undoubtedly be immense.
Industrialisation is the key for Africa to unlock high-paying jobs, wealth and prosperity.
It takes wise and bold leadership to achieve this, and thankfully we have it.
Bishop out!
