Friday, April 30, 2004
STARVING PATRIOTS: Botswana's Unlucky Political Class
To most career politicians, the prospect of retirement can be summed up in that most banal of 70's-era slogans: Let the good times roll. If you played the angles right (which most do), you can look forward to plundering your Swiss bank accounts, sitting on a few corporate boards, and, if you still crave the spotlight, you can assist your former colleagues by covering up government misdeeds. Unfortunately, in the African Republic of Botswana, this frenzy of self-gratification has yet to catch on among its political class. Just ask Gaerolwe Kwerepe.
"I am one of those who are starving and the government doesn't care," he asserts in a front page article in this week's Botswana Gazette.
A number of retired legislators, like Kwerepe, who served in the National Assembly for nearly three decades, now live without money or food to sustain themselves.
Originally a British protectorate, Botswana, is roughly the size of Texas with a meager population of just over 1.5 million. As the nation recoils from a pernicious AIDS outbreak, life expectancy has dropped to less than 40 years of age. Today, there are less than three dozen former MPs or cabinet members still alive.
While Krewepe believes these former statesmen should be valued for their wisdom and political experience, to his horror, he feels he has been betrayed by the same government he faithfully served.
"We transported the sick to hospitals and at times paid school fees for poor children and the government does not appreciate that. I contributed eight cows towards the building of the University and that is forgotten," remarks the former MP.
He isn't alone. Lemme Makgekgenene, who served in the Assembly from 1966 to 1999 is in similar straits. The wizened patriot says he may have focused far too much on his fellow citizens when he should have been paying greater attention to his own financial needs. "We only thought of our constituents and forgot ourselves, but now life is difficult for us," he tells the Gazette.
Bahiti Temane, an outgoing imcumbent says a bill was considered in 1994 allowing former politicians to receive a small pension like civil servants. Regrettably, the measure failed to garner support because the proposed amount was considered insignificant. Nevertheless, Temane believes Botswana's hard-working legislators, who steered the ship of democracy while many other African nations fell victim to bloody civil wars and brutal dictatorships deserve some sort of recompense. "MPs use their resources to carry out their work, therefore they must get a pension and other benefits when they retire," he explains.
While the prospect of a political leader starving to death sounds unthinkable, in these harsh environs where famine and disease are rampant, the specter of death is a constant companion.
Possessing the highest rate of HIV infection in the world, Botswana is threatened by what experts call a "new variant of famine" due to the viral epidemic sweeping Africa.
As journalist Alex De Waal explains, in previous years, "The victims of famine were almost exclusively young children and the elderly. Young adults rarely died - and women survived better than men. Society's core was preserved, and it could recover."
This is no longer the case. In Botswana today, over 30% of the population is infected with the deadly AIDS virus resulting in a plummeting life expectancy. Should a widespread famine erupt, the future of one of Africa's most progressive nations could be in peril.
Botswana's founding fathers face a dangerously uncertain future.
To most career politicians, the prospect of retirement can be summed up in that most banal of 70's-era slogans: Let the good times roll. If you played the angles right (which most do), you can look forward to plundering your Swiss bank accounts, sitting on a few corporate boards, and, if you still crave the spotlight, you can assist your former colleagues by covering up government misdeeds. Unfortunately, in the African Republic of Botswana, this frenzy of self-gratification has yet to catch on among its political class. Just ask Gaerolwe Kwerepe.
"I am one of those who are starving and the government doesn't care," he asserts in a front page article in this week's Botswana Gazette.
A number of retired legislators, like Kwerepe, who served in the National Assembly for nearly three decades, now live without money or food to sustain themselves.
Originally a British protectorate, Botswana, is roughly the size of Texas with a meager population of just over 1.5 million. As the nation recoils from a pernicious AIDS outbreak, life expectancy has dropped to less than 40 years of age. Today, there are less than three dozen former MPs or cabinet members still alive.
While Krewepe believes these former statesmen should be valued for their wisdom and political experience, to his horror, he feels he has been betrayed by the same government he faithfully served.
"We transported the sick to hospitals and at times paid school fees for poor children and the government does not appreciate that. I contributed eight cows towards the building of the University and that is forgotten," remarks the former MP.
He isn't alone. Lemme Makgekgenene, who served in the Assembly from 1966 to 1999 is in similar straits. The wizened patriot says he may have focused far too much on his fellow citizens when he should have been paying greater attention to his own financial needs. "We only thought of our constituents and forgot ourselves, but now life is difficult for us," he tells the Gazette.
Bahiti Temane, an outgoing imcumbent says a bill was considered in 1994 allowing former politicians to receive a small pension like civil servants. Regrettably, the measure failed to garner support because the proposed amount was considered insignificant. Nevertheless, Temane believes Botswana's hard-working legislators, who steered the ship of democracy while many other African nations fell victim to bloody civil wars and brutal dictatorships deserve some sort of recompense. "MPs use their resources to carry out their work, therefore they must get a pension and other benefits when they retire," he explains.
While the prospect of a political leader starving to death sounds unthinkable, in these harsh environs where famine and disease are rampant, the specter of death is a constant companion.
Possessing the highest rate of HIV infection in the world, Botswana is threatened by what experts call a "new variant of famine" due to the viral epidemic sweeping Africa.
As journalist Alex De Waal explains, in previous years, "The victims of famine were almost exclusively young children and the elderly. Young adults rarely died - and women survived better than men. Society's core was preserved, and it could recover."
This is no longer the case. In Botswana today, over 30% of the population is infected with the deadly AIDS virus resulting in a plummeting life expectancy. Should a widespread famine erupt, the future of one of Africa's most progressive nations could be in peril.
Botswana's founding fathers face a dangerously uncertain future.
