RIGHT, SAID FRED

Hugh Russell reports that Zambia's President

Frederick Chiluba has problems with women, especially his wife. Now there is hell to pay

Lusaka 'YES, it's marital mayhem for Fred and Vera. Little Fred is suspicious of Vera's friendship with a handsome stranger. Vera walks out on Fred in a huff. Then the neighbours get involved, with hilarious results.'

In Britain that may sound like a TV Times summary of a 1970s domestic situation comedy. Here in Zambia it's an accurate portrayal of the fraught marriage of no less a couple than President Frederick J. Chiluba and First Lady Vera Chiluba.

For the past ten months the Chiluba marital crisis has scandalised this church-going nation. All sympathies lie with Vera, as the rejected wife. And it is generally predicted that such a public washing of the presidential laundry will have a decided effect on the October elections and on the political future, if any, of President Fred himself.

The marriage fell apart in spectacular fashion at the end of last year. Chiluba was himself already the object of beerhall gossip about his secretaries, female aides and other lady friends, some of whom now live in expensive houses and drive new, imported Land Cruisers.

Then one night he returned home unexpectedly to State House in Lusaka to find First Lady Vera in close conversation — but, it's said, nothing more — with a handsome local businessman.

Throwing a spectacular moody, President Fred ordered Vera out of the house — 'chased her', as we say in Zambia. She duly left, taking with her three containers loaded with 'personal effects'. (Chiluba has been President for ten years now, and over such a period any African leader and his wife are bound to collect a considerable number of 'personal effects'.)

Vera's alleged lover soon found himself in police custody, the object of several rather unspecific charges which were dropped, revived, amended, etc., until, unsurprisingly, he felt the pressure and was taken to hospital with chest pains.

Meanwhile Vera removed herself to Ndola, the capital of the Zambian Copperbelt and her home town. And, in retrospect, it might have been wiser for President Fred to allow her to live there peacefully, and let things stand as they were.

Instead he — or one of his supporters — mobilised his party, the Movement for Multi-Party Democracy, to defend his marital position. One afternoon in May a mob of MMD 'cadres', otherwise known as thugs, turned up outside Vera's house, abused her in song and catcall, and frightened the life out of the neighbours.

Any pretence the cadres might have had to represent informed political opinion was abandoned when they moved 50 yards up the road, to waylay and rough up a couple of nuns who worked at the local Cheshire Home.

Vera wasn't intimidated; quite the reverse. She's a big woman, especially when compared to her diminutive husband, who is widely and predictably known here as `Short-Arse', and she has clearly decided that she isn't going down without a fight.

As the President's wife, she's the head of a Zambian charitable foundation which hands out clothes, food and cash to the needy. There's no organised distribution as such. Vera just lets it be known that there's stuff to be had, and the queues form in an instant.

Four weeks ago, Vera duly let it be known that she would appear before her supporters in the mining town of Kitwe, with more goodies. Huge crowds gathered, but halfway between Ndola and Kitwe a police roadblock materialised, and forbade her to drive on. 'Vera was spitting mad,' one of her companions told me. She told the police they'd have to arrest her to stop her. And they didn't dare.'

All the same, by the time Vera arrived at her destination more police were busy tear-gassing the crowds, and the meeting broke up in confusion. Next day the police denied that they attempted to stop her, or that they had used tear gas. Then they said they did and they had, and they were sorry. Then they denied everything again. One can only guess who told them to do what they did or didn't do.

President Fred's latest move, which came this week, was to seek a sneaky quick divorce from Vera in an Ndola court, on the grounds that she was previously married to someone else. Vera, however, was ready for that one, and slapped it down with an appropriate injunction.

As the song has it, it's a sad sad situation. Especially when one recalls the early days of the Chiluba presidency when an event occurred which qualified President Fred for the title of 'Husband of the Century'.

The occasion was the Chiluba state visit to Britain, which included a banquet at Buckingham Palace. It was, as they say, a glittering occasion. But as he went to take his seat beside the Queen, President Fred realised that much of the glitter was provided by the extensive range of cutlery at each place setting.

He could handle it. But Vera, who had previously been his house servant and still lacked some sophistication, would be lost. And distressed. Worse, Vera was seated several places away, somewhere to the south of the Duke of Edinburgh; far too far away for Fred to whisper advice in her ear. He must help her, President Fred decided, but how? Inspiration came. Turning to the Queen, the President asked politely if, as a committed Christian, he might be permitted to say grace. And, furthermore, might he say it in his native tongue, the language known as Bemba?

Royal assent was graciously given. President Fred rose to his feet and delivered his 'grace'. Roughly speaking, it translated thus: Tor what we are about to receive . . . Vera, listen. The round spoon is for the soup, the funny-shaped knife is for the fish, and the spoon at the top is for the pudding . . . may the Lord make us truly thankful, Amen.'

And the assembled dignitaries, not exactly fluent in Bemba, murmured 'Amen' and sat down, deeply impressed by the simple piety of this small politician from Africa.

But this spectacular act of husbandly charity is long forgotten. And President Fred himself now has other problems on his hands. Once he had ambitions to stand for a third term as President, in October. Or rather, his 'friends' had the ambitions. Fred himself was publicly reluctant, and said portentously that the nation would decide.

Well, the nation decided. A groundswell of public opinion demanded that the constitution be observed. This constitution allows a president two five-year terms, no more. President Fred gave up, and announced that he never wanted a third term in the first place. (The pertinent clause of the constitution was written nearly ten years ago by a certain F. Chiluba; but those close to President Fred say it is inadvisable to remind him of this fact.) Now it is generally expected that he will nominate a menial from his MMD party to stand as president, while he will rule from behind the throne. But it may not be that simple. We are just swinging into our scorching summer season and the political atmosphere is warming up as fast as the temperature.

Every day allegations of fraud, embezzlement, corruption and plain theft are hurled at President Fred's head, chiefly via, and indeed by, the main independent newspaper, the Post. This raunchy Lusaka daily is filling its pages with copies of a petition headed 'President Chiluba is a Thief and bearing the signatures and printed names of thousands of fearless Zambians. Opposition like this is now so vocal and widespread that already rumours have started that the October elections may be 'postponed for technical reasons'.

The truth is that if President Fred does have a viable political future, it will come by default. Opposition may be loud and vehement, but the opposition parties are many and fragmented, and none of them has yet decided on a presidential candidate. The only known names are politicians tainted with previous service under Chiluba. The search for a single candidate behind whom everyone can unite goes on.

No one seems yet to have realised that a genuinely wholesome potential president stands waiting in the wings, equipped with charisma, huge personal popularity, and an overwhelming desire to defeat President Fred. So, as a humble resident of Lusaka, may I be the first to present to you, to Zambia, and to the world, the very real prospect of — President Vera.