Harare has delivered a masterclass in democratic theatre, with MPs voting to extend the president’s grip on power like a toddler refusing to share a toy. The bill, passed with the solemnity of a pub lunch debate, ensures the leader can remain in office until his beard rivals that of Father Time himself. Britain, ever the global scold, has issued a condemnation so limp it could double as a wet tissue.
The Foreign Office’s statement, no doubt crafted over a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey, lamented the ‘erosion of democratic norms’ with all the impact of a polite cough in a hurricane. This is a nation whose own democracy has been known to wobble like a drunk on a tightrope. Meanwhile, Zimbabwe’s ruling party celebrates its victory, having successfully turned the electoral process into a game of musical chairs where the music never stops and the chairs are bolted to the floor.
The opposition, naturally, has called it a ‘farce,’ but their voices are muffled by the sound of parliamentary high-fives. One cannot help but admire the sheer audacity: a bill that effectively says, ‘We shall govern until the polar ice caps melt entirely.’ The only surprise is that it wasn’t passed with a clause requiring the president to be cloned for future generations.
As for Britain’s condemnation, it will no doubt be filed alongside previous protests in a folder marked ‘Global Irrelevance.’ The moral of this story: if you’re going to stage a coup, do it with pomp, circumstance, and a complete disregard for anyone clutching a teacup.
