Zimbabwe
– Kenias
Mutsenha
had
long
ceased
using
his
Zimbabwean
local
currency
bank
account,
abandoning
it
for
one
trading
in
US
dollars,
as
many
in
the
economically
volatile
country
prefer
dealing
with
more
stable
foreign
currencies.
But
when
he
took
on
consultancy
work
in
Harare
this
year
and
a
client
needed
to
pay
him
in
Zimbabwe
Gold,
or
ZiG,
currency,
he
returned
to
the
bank
to
reopen
his
account.
There,
the
teller
asked
for
a
reactivation
fee
in
ZiG
notes.
Again,
Mutsenha
only
had
US
dollars,
which
the
bank
would
not
accept
or
exchange.
“I
had
to
find
cash
somewhere,”
Mutsenha,
46,
said,
realising
there
was
only
one
place
he
could
go:
“The
streets”.
While
most
Zimbabweans
prefer
trading
in
US
dollars –
to
avoid
the
pitfalls
of
major
currency
fluctuations
–
government
institutions
use
local
currency.
At
the
same
time,
banks
don’t
have
enough
ZiG
notes,
as
the
Central
Bank
–
wanting
Zimbabwe
to
move
towards
a
cashless
society
–
has
not
put
enough
cash
in
circulation,
experts
say.
As
a
result,
people
flock
to
Harare’s
central
business
district
(CBD),
where
there
is
a
thriving
black
market foreign
exchange
trading
operation.
Since
the
launch
of
the
ZiG
last
year,
the
government
has
been clamping
down on
informal
currency dealers.
But
this
has
only
created
a
situation
where
the
suppliers
find
new
avenues
to
explore
–
as
Mutsenha
discovered
that
day.
Finding
local
currency
on
the
street
was
a
nightmare,
he
said.
“I
wandered
in
the
CBD until
one
illegal
forex
dealer
[who
said
he
had
no
cash]
directed
me
to
a
certain
street.
I
was
told
the
person
[exchanging
money]
is
disabled
on
a
wheelchair.”
On
a
bustling
street
corner,
Mutsenha
found
Leonard
Mumba*, who
used
to
sell
mobile
phone
airtime
at
a
local
bus
terminus
but
now
deals
in
something
far
more
lucrative,
secretive,
and
risky.
Every
day
except
Sundays,
43-year-old
Mumba
is
wheeled
into
town
by
a
relative.
He
works
from
about
7am
to
6pm
from
the
same
spot
on
the
corner,
and
is
paid
a
weekly
commission
by
the
black
market
dealer
who
hired
him.
As
Mutsenha
handed
over
his
US
dollar
note
to
Mumba,
he
observed
the
subtle
operations
of
this
trade.
“A
man
came
from
across
the
road,
walking,
passing
by
the
street
corner.
He
just
dropped
a
black
satchel
at
this
illegal
forex
dealer
and
hooked
it
on
the
wheelchair.
They
did
not
speak
to
each
other,”
Mutsenha
recounted.
All
across
the
capital
city,
dealers
like
Mumba
now
sit
in
wheelchairs
and
on
sidewalks
with
satchels
of
banknotes.
Silent
handoffs
are
not
uncommon
to
witness:
A
plastic
bag
tossed
casually
at
a
trader’s
feet
as
a
supplier
walks
by,
avoiding
eye
contact
and
accountability.
man
uses
old
Zimbabwean
dollar
notes
to
buy
groceries
in
Harare.
Zimbabwe’s
currency
is
weak
against
foreign
currencies,
so
many
locals
prefer
to
use
the
US
dollar
[File:
Tsvangirayi
Mukwazhi/AP]
Police
are
more
‘lenient’
After
the
2024
introduction
of
the
ZiG
and
the
associated
government
crackdown
on
illegal
money
traders,
an
increasing
number
of
people
with
disabilities
have
taken
up
the
trade
in
Harare,
observers
and
disability
rights
groups
say.
Although
there
are
no
clear
estimates
of
how
many
people
with
disabilities
work
as
black
market
dealers,
Plaxedes
Choto,
a
disability
activist,
told
Al
Jazeera
that
in
the
CBD
alone,
there
are
more
than
three
dozen
disabled
people
involved
in
the
trade.
While
some
have
approached
the
trade
organically,
others,
like
Mumba,
were
recruited
to
be
proxies
for
someone
else.
“I
used
to
sell
airtime
at
Copacabana
bus
terminus,
but
when
police
continued
rounding
up
the
money
changers,
one
of
the
suppliers
approached
me
to
work
for
him,”
Mumba
told
Al
Jazeera
from
his
street
corner.
“Due
to
my
condition
[being
in
a
wheelchair],
police
would
not
easily
suspect
me,
especially
in
the
beginning,”
he
said.
“And
they
are
lenient
on
arrest
due
to
our
circumstances.”
People
with
disabilities
may
be
overlooked
or
viewed
more
sympathetically
by
the
police,
who
are
less
likely
to
crack
down
on
them,
according
to
observers.
Thabiso
Moyo,
a
Harare-based
social
justice
activist
and
human
rights
defender,
told
Al
Jazeera
this
is
because
police
stations
are
often
not
disability
friendly,
which
creates
hassles
for
the
officers.
“Being
generally
spared
from
police
raids
then
creates
a
situation
which
allows
wheelchair
users
to
be
shields
and
proxies
in
a
broader
system
of
economic
survival
and
corruption.
Real
culprits
hide
behind
the
disabled.”
Moyo
notes
that
the
shift
to
front-lining
disabled
money
traders
is
a
tactic
that
allows
the
real
suppliers
of
illicit
street
currency
to
stay
behind
the
scenes
and
be
more
protected.
Despite
their
work
with
sought-after
US
dollars,
observers
say
there
are
seldom
reports
of
disabled
money
traders
being
robbed
by
thieves.
However,
many
traders
say
law
enforcement
agents
approach
them
for
bribes
in
exchange
for
allowing
their
operations
to
continue.
Despite
any
risks,
for
many,
including
Mumba,
the
benefits
of
the
job
outweigh
previous
economic
ventures.
“With
airtime
and
fruits
it
was
quite
a
hustle.
And
now
everyone
wants
money
–
cash
or
online
transfers,
both
in
USD
and
ZiG.
It’s
a
lucrative
business
and
I
could
not
deny
such
a
[job]
offer.”
Not
too
far
away,
Clever
Gorejena*,
another
street
currency
dealer,
has
been
in
a
wheelchair
since
an
accident
a
decade
ago
left
him
disabled.
He
dabbles
in
the
trade
to
make
additional
income.
Like
Mumba,
he
works
for
someone
else
and
is
paid
weekly
on
commission
based
on
the
profits
from
the
transactions
he
makes.
“I
took
the
offer
as
an
opportunity
to
make
money.
I
deal
in
both
hard
currency
and
online
transactions
using
my
phone.
In
addition
to
forex
exchange, I
also
sell
airtime.
Those
are
my
two
major
activities,”
he
told
Al
Jazeera.

with
disabilities
face
many
challenges
in
Zimbabwe
[File:
Tsvangirayi
Mukwazhi/AP]
Lack
of
opportunities
People
with
disabilities
face
many
hurdles
in
Zimbabwe,
including
a
high
cost
of
living
due
to
additional
care
and
resources
they
may
require.
On
the
streets
of
Harare,
several
told
Al
Jazeera
about
the
stressful
cost
of
diapers,
food
for
their
specific
diets,
special
transport
services,
and
a
support
person
or
aids
to
help
them
get
by.
Although
Zimbabwe’s
social
welfare
department
gives
monthly
grants
to
people
with
disabilities,
representatives
of
this
community
say
it
is
a
drop
in
the
ocean.
Employment
prospects
also
remain
a
challenge.
In
2021,
Zimbabwe
launched
a
national
disability
policy
to
close
the
gaps
between
disabled
and
able-bodied
Zimbabweans.
The
policy
stated
the
government’s
intention
for
inclusion,
including
employment
opportunities,
but
four
years
down
the
line,
the
community
say
they
are
still
excluded
and
often
exploited.
For
many,
this
has
led
to
begging
or
vending
to
earn
money.
According
to
a
2017
study
by
the
National
Association
of
Social
Workers,
57
percent
of
people
begging
in
Harare
have
a
physical
disability.
“Beggars
with
disabilities
have
a
low
level
of
education.
Forty-seven
percent
have
no
formal
education.
This
has
made
it
difficult
for
them
to
get
employed,”
said
the
report.
As
people
attempt
to
leave
begging,
many
are
drawn
to
the
informal
sector
because
of
the
challenging
economic
situation,
said
Samantha
Sibanda,
the
director
of
Signs
of
Hope
Trust,
an
organisation
for
people
with
disabilities.
Some
fall
into
illegal
currency
dealing,
while
others
sell
what
they
can
in
the
street.
“I
think
the
national
budget
and
other
economic
outlooks
have
shown
that,
generally,
we
have
now
moved
to
an
informal
economy,”
said
Sibanda.
“But
for
persons
with
disabilities,
the
challenges
are
unique,”
she
added,
including
insufficient
access
to
education,
as
few
schools
provide
accessible
infrastructure.
This
then
affects
their
chances
of
getting
a
formal
job.
And
even
for
the
employed,
workplace
discrimination
remains
a
challenge.
“This
is
a
huge
gap
in
inclusion.
Our
infrastructure
was
built
without
the
disabled
in
mind,”
Sibanda
said.
“The
majority
of
the
disabled
find
their
way
to
city
centres,
in
the
streets
or
vending
due
to
lack
of
opportunities.”

queue
to
withdraw
money
from
a
bank
in
Harare
[File:
Philimon
Bulawayo/Reuters]
‘We
meet
in
the
streets’
In
August,
the
Harare
City
Council
conducted
Operation
Restore
CBD
Order,
during
which
officials
inspected
shops
and
buildings
to
ensure
their
businesses
were
complying
with
the
law.
The
city
council
told
Al
Jazeera
that
although
it
was
aware
that
disabled
people
are
working
in
the
illegal
money
trade
in
Harare,
the
current
focus
of
its
operation
was
on
unlicensed
shops
and
illegal
infrastructure
in
the
greater
CBD.
“But
anyone
operating
any
business
within
the
CBD
without
regulation
through
the
City
of
Harare
is
illegal,
including
those
in
the
streets,”
added
Stanley
Gama,
the
city’s
spokesperson.
Other
concerned
stakeholders
say
that
despite
government
efforts
to
fight
illegal
forex
trade,
currency
shortages
and
bureaucracy
in
the
banking
system
drive
the
black
market
operation.
In
Zimbabwe,
changing
foreign
currency
to
local
notes
the
official
way
is
a
long
process,
involving
paperwork
and
banks
asking
for
detailed
information.
Meanwhile,
changing
ZiG
to
foreign
currency
requires
Central
Bank
approval
and
is
near
impossible,
locals
say.
So
many
choose
to
go
the
black
market
route.
Ngonidzashe
Mutsigo,
a
Harare
resident,
mentions
other
challenges
for
Zimbabweans.
“I
don’t
have
a
bank
account;
it
costs
to
maintain
a
bank
account
in
Zimbabwe.
It
costs
to
withdraw
and
transact
using
the
bank
account.
So
I
think
such
things
are
the
ones
that
make
the
business
of
informal
money
changing
blossom,”
he
said.
“Unfortunately,
even
for
those
with
bank
accounts,
when
they
want
to
buy
the
USD
in
the
bank,
they
don’t
get
it,
and
we
meet
in
the
streets.”
A
black-market
money
supplier
who
provides
currency
to
disabled
traders
said
that,
these
days,
ZiG
notes
are
scarce.
As
the
ZiG
is
in
demand,
the
supplier,
who
requested
anonymity
for
security
reasons,
told
Al
Jazeera,
black
market
suppliers
often
source
it
from
big
businesspeople.
“There
are
people
in
business
and
government
getting
tenders
and
paid
in
local
currency
–
this
is
big
money
–
millions.
And
the
only
way
for
them
to
get
the
USD
is
to
come
to
the
streets.”
Even
though
the
government
pays
in
local
currency,
the
“big
shots”
want
US
dollars,
he
said.
“We
help
them
by
looking
for
the
greenback
…
and
we
work
with
our
guys
on
the
ground,
including
those
with
disabilities.
We
believe
in
numbers
–
the
more
we
get
these
people,
the
quicker
our
money
is
turned
into
the
sought-after
USD.”

Reserve
Bank
Governor
John
Mushayavanhu
holds
a
ZiG
note
[File:
Jekesai
Njikizana/AFP]
‘Tough
times’
In
June,
the
Reserve
Bank
of
Zimbabwe
(RBZ)
reported
that
it
had
achieved
one
year
of
ZiG
stability.
“Zimbabwe’s
exchange
rate
has
become
more
stable,
with
the
difference
between
the
official
and
black
market
rates
now
below
20
percent.
The
country
also
received
more
foreign
currency
…
[This
has]
made
it
easier
for
businesses
and
individuals
to
access
foreign
currency
for
genuine
needs,
and
helped
keep
the
financial
sector
stable
and
healthy,”
said
RBZ
governor,
John
Mushayavanhu.
Observers
and
financial
experts,
however,
say
the
RBZ
is
not
realistic
about
the
situation
on
the
ground,
where
US
dollars
are in
demand
and
widely
different
exchange
rates
on
the
official and
parallel
markets
have
created
opportunities
for
illegal
dealers
to
thrive.
Meanwhile,
on
the
streets,
people
with
disabilities
have
been
drawn
in,
too
–
many
out
of
desperation
or
necessity.
“We
are
living
in
tough
times,”
Sign
of
Hope’s
Sibanda
said.
“We
do
also
have
people
who
have
been
exploiting
persons
with
disabilities
since
time
immemorial,
using
them
for
begging,
using
them
to
run
their
stores
while
they
keep
their
money
for
themselves.”
Recruitment
by
money
traders
wanting
to
stay
in
the
shadows
is
the
newest
iteration
of
that.
“Operating
a
parallel
market
of
forex
or
currency
exchange
is
illegal,
and
we
do
not
condone
such
activities,”
Sibanda
said.
“But
we
do
look
forward
to
other
opportunities
that
can
give
people
with
disabilities
better
incomes
and
a
better
life.”
On
his
street
corner,
Mumba
agrees.
Despite
some
financial
respite,
he
says
currency
trading
does
not
provide
real
security
–
neither
economic
nor
social.
He
hopes
the
government
will
roll
out
initiatives
and
invest
in
helping
him
and
others
get
away
from the
criminal
trade
and
unsafe
streets
of
Harare.
“No
one
knows
about
tomorrow.
Robbers
can
target
me,
here
or
at
home,
and
it
will
affect
my
family,”
Mumba
said.
“My
biggest
fear
is
that
the
work
we
do
is
illegal
and
does
not
help
in
building
my
country’s
economy.”
*Name
changed
for
safety
reasons
