In Zimbabwe, bread costs Z$10 million
With inflation at 100,000 percent, few can afford even basic goods.
from the March 25, 2008 edition
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If most of Zimbabwe's economic misery is self-inflicted, as many economists say, then the solutions also come from within. One senior economic adviser to the government, speaking on condition of anonymity, says that the first step for Zimbabwe is to "liberalize everything."
Solutions must come from within
"First, you have to allow people to trade their Zimbabwe dollars freely, and buy their goods in US dollars. Then you have to look at the government deficit, the whole government budget, including the parastatal companies (such as electric utilities) and the central government. You add it all up, and subtract what you get in revenues, and then you have to bring the difference down."
The stark inequities of the current system of cronyism mean that most people will benefit from a wholesale change in the economy, the adviser says. "It will be painful as you liberalize, but when you liberalize, you are also taking away the risk of doing what people are already doing," such as illegally trading their Zimbabwe dollars for US dollars at black market rates. "It's almost like lifting a giant tax on everybody, because you will be taking that risk away."
A stroll through a regional capital like Bulawayo shows that there is food on the shelves, but all of it highly priced. Massive department stores, built for a time when farmers from miles around would come to do their weekend shopping, are full of clothes, but without customers.
Gas stations have closed down entirely, and most people who can afford it buy fuel from roving bands of illegal fuel salesmen, who ladle out gasoline by the liter and even by the spoonful.
At a local greengrocer, 12 million dollars (50 cents US) buys you a head of wilted lettuce. Ten million dollars will buy a loaf of bread (40 cents US), if you can find any. These prices are now beyond the reach of most Zimbabweans
"We've gone two months without butter," says Sihle, a former schoolteacher from Bulawayo. "For the common man, it's much worse."
The rooms of her apartment show photos of happier times. Now, teachers like Sihle are quitting their jobs, when their 400 million-dollar salary fails to pay for taxi fare to and from school, let alone grocery bills.
With cash almost a worthless possession, Sihle has invested her savings in something more meaningful. She stacks bags of maize meal six feet high and five feet wide in her bedroom, enough to last for months.
"I've never seen a country that doesn't appreciate professionals," she says. "There's no point taking your kid to school. For what? In this economy, if you see someone selling tomatoes cheaper, you buy them and sell them again to get money. Now everyone is a commodities broker."
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