(First in a two-part series)
The great nation of Zimbabwe is in crisis and I am forced to declare a state of emergency. Although my twenty-nine-year reign as the country's leader has been marked by defiance, recent events have brought me to the brink and I appeal to the international community for all the support it can muster.
I share with you the vital information contained in the all-points bulletin released by Radio Zimbabwe: Fortnum Mugabe, a chimpanzee approximately five feet high and weighing 150 pounds, disappeared from the Presidential Pagoda at about 4:30 p.m. Thursday. Fortnum's hair is black, straight and coarse. He has a lumbering, bearlike gait and while formerly able to climb nimbly, he has reached maturity and consequently his arboreal habits have declined.
When last seen, he was wearing yellow Tour de France racing shorts, a lightweight Loro Piana sweater vest, a pair of embroidered magenta Venetian gondolier's slippers known as papusse, and carrying a partially-peeled banana.
Fortnum was last spotted frolicking under the sprinkler system at my pagoda-style palace. The gardener who observed him was taken into custody, questioned throughout the night, and forced to drink diesel fuel. All to no avail: Fortnum remains at large.
There have been reports of Fortnum pedaling his tricycle on Harare's ring road. These sightings have been investigated by the Republic Police with further interrogation and more diesel fuel. A reward is offered for Fortnum's safe return: 1,000,000 U.S. dollars if discovered by a foreign national and 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 Zimbabwean dollars if found locally.
My concerns at this point are twofold: first, that Fortnum may have joined the thousands of my subjects who are illegally fleeing into South Africa each day. It mortifies me that he may find himself without proper shelter, food, or clean drinking water and vulnerable to the nasty cholera outbreak now upon us. Second, because his body build and functions resemble those of man, it is possible Fortnum may be in the clutches of a demented lunatic and subject to dismemberment, vivisection, or worse.
What can you say about a chimpanzee who enlarged the world for all who knew him and now is gone? That he loved long walks on the beach and Chopin? Scrabble and club sandwiches? The Hotel du Cap in Antibes and having the largest cabana?
I am now 85 and the loss of Fortnum has heightened my growing awareness of how precious life is. My young wife Grace notices that I well up at birthday celebrations, romantic films, and while saying goodbyes at the airport. Lately at breakfast, when eating my grapefruit, a tear trickles down my cheek.
On the homefront, we are working around the clock. Fourteen of the least diligent of my 236 houseboys were executed at dawn, with subsequent firing squads scheduled to report for duty every two hours. In the interim, a number of buildings and grounds staff have had their hands and feet amputated and have been burned alive. But the current downward spiral in our economy has been accompanied by a fuel shortage. Supplies are running low, even at the Presidential Pagoda. In out time of need, we turn our eyes to you. Zimbabwe asks for your help. No, we beg you.
