Letter spells out a far-off anguish

How many articles have you read lately on Zimbabwe?

My own tally: probably fewer than five.

This year alone The Times has produced dozens of stories from the African country wracked by political violence and economic chaos. The most recent quotes government sources as saying an intensified crackdown on opposition leaders is imminent, with longtime President Robert Mugabe refusing to buckle to international pressure that he relinquish his grip on power. Some of our stories are not bylined because of fear of reprisal against the reporter.

Still, with life in America somewhat less than peachy these days, who’s got time to worry about Zimbabwe? Gas prices? Stock market? Come on, we’ve got it rough here. And if we did bother to worry about Zimbabwe, what could we do about it?

If that in any way captures the typical American frame of mind, it’s exactly what Sylvia Valle of Lake Forest doesn’t want to hear. Especially with an e-mail that begins, “I’m coming to you because I don’t know where else to go.”

The plight she describes was relayed to her by a friend who lives in South Africa. A Zimbabwean sent an e-mail to Valle’s friend, who then forwarded it to Valle. “I’m hoping you can shine a light on this as it doesn’t seem to be ‘real’ for many,” Valle says of the situation in Zimbabwe.

I’ve since learned the letter has been widely circulated in recent months, intended as a universal pitch for help. It begins with this characterization of the government: “We are all terrified at what they are going to destroy next. I mean, they are actually ploughing down brick and mortar houses and one white family with twin boys of 10 had no chance of salvaging anything when 100 riot police came in with AK-47s and bulldozers and demolished their beautiful house.”

The letter continues:

“If you don’t want me to tell you these things -- how bad it is -- then it means you have not dealt with your own fear, but it does not help me to think you are turning your back on our situation. We need you, please, to get the news out that we are all in a fearfully dangerous situation. Too many people turn their backs and say, ‘Oh, well, that’s what happens in Africa.’

“This government has gone mad and you need to help us publicize our plight -- or how can we be rescued? The petrol queues are a reality, the pall of smoke all around our city is a reality, the thousands of homeless people sleeping outside in 0 degrees Centigrade with no food, water, shelter and bedding are a reality.

“Today a family approached me, brother of the gardener’s wife, with two small children. Their home was trashed and they will have to sleep outside. We already support eight adult people and a child on this property, and electricity is going up next month by 250%, as is water. How can I take on another family of four? And yet how can I turn them away to sleep out in the open?

“I am not asking you for money or a ticket out of here. I am asking you to face the fact that we are in deep and terrible danger and want you please to pass on our news and pictures. So please don’t just press the delete button.

“The more people know about it, the more chance we have of the United Nations coming to our aid. Please don’t ignore or deny what’s happening. Some would like to be protected from the truth but then, if we are eliminated, how would you feel?”

Most of us don’t get letters like that from friends. Valle says the e-mail reflects what she’s heard from her friend, who lives in South Africa but whose father lives in Zimbabwe.

“She has told us horror stories,” Valle says. “As simple as taking all the clothes she can in a suitcase when she visits [Zimbabwe] and leaving them there for her family to use because money is worthless and goods are extremely scarce. There is no food to be had. It is heartbreaking.”

That is a lot to digest. Asking me to reprint the letter seems a paltry contribution in the face of such momentous events, but I’ll take Valle at her word:

“This anguished cry has to be heard.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Tuesdays and Fridays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.