What it was like the day Grace Mugabe ensnared Robert? Imagine it is February 1992, shortly after the death of his first wife, Sally. Mugabe is at his desk on an uncomfortable call to Sally’s family in Ghana. Grace, his secretary, is typing away in an adjacent room. I imagine the phone conversation: "Oh, these things are always hard" and "Oh, everyone seems to be coping" and "Now listen to me, you backward peasant, I stashed an enormous amount of stolen money in her name in your country and I bloody well want it back." "Um, about that money," the voice on the phone in Ghana says. "No, I don’t think we’ll give it back to you." Mugabe attempts to swallow his fist, but when he cannot squeeze his teeth over his knuckles he hurls the handset at the portrait of Queen Elizabeth. He screams and goose-steps up and down his office making unpleasant remarks about the quality of infrastructure in Accra before collapsing. Sensing her moment, Grace creeps in and waits at his desk as he crawls bac...

Subscribe now to unlock this article.

Support BusinessLIVE’s award-winning journalism for R129 per month (digital access only).

There’s never been a more important time to support independent journalism in SA. Our subscription packages now offer an ad-free experience for readers.

Cancel anytime.

Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.

Speech Bubbles

Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.