Where is Zimbabwe's Middle Class?

Zimbabwe seems to have no middle class. There is a vast lower class with little access to the services that the poor in a developed nation take for granted. Although these people suffer the worst at the hands of their government, they are powerless to leave the country, lacking funds and the ability to navigate visa requirements. They are usually grouped in high-density areas on the outskirts of town or otherwise out of sight. And based on what I have seen in these communities, it seems extremely difficult to lift oneself out of those circumstances.

Meanwhile, there is a conspicuous upper class: Government officials. Military and political officers have gigantic mansions, rivaling anything I have seen in the United States. They drive outrageous cars and SUVs. They have access to electricity and water and virtually every comfort enjoyed by the rich in the First World. They even pave and repair the roads they regularly use.

Then there are the whites. Supposedly numbering about 20,000 out of a country of 12 million, the whites have suffered under Mugabe’s reign, but many still enjoy circumstances completely unavailable to most Zimbabweans. They live in the suburbs, surrounded by walls and guarded by dogs and alarm systems. They have gardeners and cooks. They dine at restaurants that -- while cheap by Western standards -- are nevertheless prohibitively expensive for most.

One day, I went to the Harare city center and began to walk. I wandered around the main downtown, then followed the people toward Mbare, a huge, trash-littered high-density area near downtown. I wandered for over two hours and never saw another white person.

Another day, I went with some friends to a bar in Harare. Two guards tended to the front gate. I was told it was a “members only” bar -- a requirement that could be overlooked at times. We proceeded down a private road through a small walled community -- apartments, shops, and the open-air bar, complete with a roaring fire, comfortable couches, and an odd collection of people, nearly all of whom were white. But for the accents, we could have been in a swanky lounge in Chicago.

Even with this separation, I experienced nothing but kindness from people of all races during my two weeks in Zimbabwe. In fact, Zimbabweans of all colors and in all neighborhoods were as friendly, kind, and helpful as I’ve encountered on my journey. It’s just frustrating to think of living in a place where people of different colors and classes rarely interact.