I cycled by the President’s house for the first time the other day, my bike indiscreetly grinding metal against metal like a blacksmith. Passing the bayonets of one of the soldiers out front, I wondered what they would make of a clown on a unicycle effortlessly cruising along the well-guarded path. I imagined the patchwork joker would end up where most clowns end up after a hard day’s work: alone with their makeup running in a cold dark room.
Extremes aside, whether we suffer as a nation from a colonial hangover, with policemen projectile vomiting rigid laws onto the potholed streets, or we speak in tongues because our freedoms have been sacrificed in exchange for the power of a few, there are some downright classic ways to get arrested in the beautiful city of Harare.
Disclaimer: If you do manage to get arrested in Harare City Centre or elsewhere in Zimbabwe, Matador holds you solely responsible for lacking the sarcasm levels required to consume such articles.