Opinion / Columnist
Jonathan Moyo's crocodile tears
23 May 2015 at 11:13hrs | Views
I have never cared to follow Jonathan Moyo on social media. In fact when, in the state-owned press, there was a hullabaloo over Moyo's Twitter 'coming out,' I rolled my eyes and flapped a dismissive hand. But this week, by a stroke of bad luck, I stumbled upon a tweet by the information minister, who is vying for the parliamentary seat in Tsholotsho.
'At Dhlamini in Tsholotsho mothers said they walk 5kms and end up spending nights queuing for just a bucket of water!' tweeted Moyo.
By some devilish miracle, Moyo earned a few retweets for such an inane post. But this is hardly surprising as everyone knows that Zanu (PF) employs fulltime internet trolls, whose job is to advance the party's propaganda.
I was left with a bad taste in my mouth and a strong feeling of sadness for the mothers, sisters and aunts who, 35 years post-independence, still carry buckets of water for long distances, like beasts of burden. But I was also infuriated by Moyo's pretentiousness.
Having been at one time the legislator for Tsholotsho, and being a native of this often neglected region, he not only knew about the water shortages but probably the first names and totems of each of those women whose feet are blistered from the daily migration for drinking water. Are we really expected to believe that this was news to Professor Moyo? If the Professor was unaware then he is either out of touch with people at grassroots level or he is not as clever as he often attempts to portray himself.
By his own testimony, Moyo's father died during Mugabe's Gukurahundi genocide. Moyo first sold out his own people by getting into bed with the murderous party which massacred civilians in Tsolotsho during the 1980s. He has again sold out by pretending that he was not aware of the perennial shortages of water.
Rather than attempting to make the right noises, playing to the gallery, he might succeed in making better music if he instead jingled the 30 pieces of silver he earned in exchange for a seat on the gravy train.
'At Dhlamini in Tsholotsho mothers said they walk 5kms and end up spending nights queuing for just a bucket of water!' tweeted Moyo.
By some devilish miracle, Moyo earned a few retweets for such an inane post. But this is hardly surprising as everyone knows that Zanu (PF) employs fulltime internet trolls, whose job is to advance the party's propaganda.
I was left with a bad taste in my mouth and a strong feeling of sadness for the mothers, sisters and aunts who, 35 years post-independence, still carry buckets of water for long distances, like beasts of burden. But I was also infuriated by Moyo's pretentiousness.
Having been at one time the legislator for Tsholotsho, and being a native of this often neglected region, he not only knew about the water shortages but probably the first names and totems of each of those women whose feet are blistered from the daily migration for drinking water. Are we really expected to believe that this was news to Professor Moyo? If the Professor was unaware then he is either out of touch with people at grassroots level or he is not as clever as he often attempts to portray himself.
By his own testimony, Moyo's father died during Mugabe's Gukurahundi genocide. Moyo first sold out his own people by getting into bed with the murderous party which massacred civilians in Tsolotsho during the 1980s. He has again sold out by pretending that he was not aware of the perennial shortages of water.
Rather than attempting to make the right noises, playing to the gallery, he might succeed in making better music if he instead jingled the 30 pieces of silver he earned in exchange for a seat on the gravy train.
Source - zimbabwean
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