Posted on 03/14/2020 1:48:00 PM PDT by devane617
Two decades after President Robert Mugabe wrecked Zimbabwes economy by urging black subsistence farmers to violently force white commercial farmers and their workers off their land, his successor has thrown in the towel.
(Excerpt) Read more at yahoo.com ...
The black farmers who were successful also had their farms confiscated, the land given to those more politically reliable but absolutely incompetent. To me that resembles the ghetto mentality here in the US. If a black is successful, well then he aint really black. Jus keepin it real.
I saw a lot of that while in college in Newark NJ.
Mugabe should have enlisted Bloomberg to teach the black farmers how simple it is.
Anybody call Kathy Buckles yet?
nvrmnd, wrong Kathy. sorry.
Doomberg said anyone can be a farmer. Perhaps he should go there and show them just “how easy” farming is.
Are they giving back the lives of White farmers they took along with the land? Are they compensating them for the stolen , damaged and destroyed equipment and infrastructure?
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
.
Too late. Who would ever want to go back to that (now) chithole? I certainly wouldn’t. You simply cannot trust that you or your family would be safe or that they wouldn’t simply steal your property again after you cleaned up the mess that they created.
I don't want to buy a book.
Does she have anything recent that you can just read on the Internet>
ML/NJ
Propaganda ? No examples cited of where any of the 4500 farms seized were offered returned to former owners in lieu of a cash settlement was accepted by former owners or their reaction to such an offer.
I don’t know - there is a Facebook page, and she seems to write a good bit on there. I didn’t want to buy a book either.
https://www.facebook.com/cathybuckleafricantears
I just found this info today - I had to dig a little bit. I was wondering if she is okay and I’m glad to see that she is still around.
“I’m stunned that the black farmers and the government failed! Shocked !”
I doubt they were black farmers...more like black mobs. As far as black farmers go, I suspect that there are plenty of good ones there, just not enough.
Hear that Democraps! Whites are good for nothing...until you need to eat. All the suddenwhitie become popular again. Send them the master farmer, Micheal Bloomturd, since theres nothing to it!
Thanks for that link, TG.
Looks like lots of good stuff there.
Believe I’ll drop a donation her way and read a book or two . . .
[I think some Rhodesian whites stayed in the country because they were too destitute to be able to travel to another country.]
The real luxuries were space and beautyand the time to enjoy them. With three doctors, I rented an elegant colonial house set in beautiful grounds tended by a garden boy called Moses (the boy in garden boy or houseboy implied no youth: once, in East Africa, I was served by a houseboy who was 94, who had lived in the same family for 70 years, and who would have seen the suggestion of retirement as insulting). Surrounding the house was a flagstone veranda where breakfast was served on linen in the cool of the morning, the soft light of the sunrise spreading through the foliage of the jacaranda trees; even the harsh cry of the go-away bird seemed grateful on the ear. It was the only time in my life when I have arisen from bed without a tinge of regret.
I have never worked harder, and I can still conjure up the heavy feeling in my head, as if it were full of lead shot and could snap off my neck under its own weight. The luxury of our life was this: that, our work once done, we never had to perform a single chore for ourselves. The rest of our time, in our most beautiful surroundings, was given over to friendship, sport, study, huntingwhatever we wished. Of course, our leisure rested upon a pyramid of startling inequality and social difference. The staff who freed us of lifes inconveniences lived an existence that was opaque to us, though they had quarters only a few yards from where we lived. Their hopes, wishes, fears, and aspirations were not ours; their beliefs, tastes, and customs were alien to us.
Our very distance made our relations with them unproblematic. We studiously avoided that tone of spoiled and bored querulousness for which colonials were infamous. We never resorted to that staple of colonial conversation, the servant problem, but were properly grateful. Like most of the people I met in Rhodesia, we tried to treat our staff well. In return, they treated us with genuine solicitude. We assuaged our consciences by telling ourselves what was no doubt truethat they would be worse off without our employbut we couldnt help feeling uneasy.]
I figured this was the Bee.
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