Callous king's luxury life amid poverty

Each of the 10 cars is a German "sculpture in metal", say the critics. All are BMWs, from the top of the latest "5" range.

The sumptuous vehicles will arrive in Swaziland, one of the poorest countries in the world, next week.

Bought for the 10 wives of King Mswati II, they are the latest purchases of the continent's last absolute monarch, the most fecklessly self-indulgent ruler in the world.

When you are King of Swaziland, finding a new wife is not hard, although keeping her happy may require the odd outlandish expenditure.

The passing of each summer in the capital, Mbabane, is marked by the Umhlanga, or reed dance. Young virgins are summoned from all over the country to participate in a five-day festival in honour of the King.

Dressed in short, beaded skirts decorated with bright fringes and buttons and wearing anklets, bracelets and necklaces, and colourful sashes, the bare-breasted girls, some as young as 9 or 10, dance for the monarch.

Giving the dance its name, the young maidens gather reeds from designated areas.

Each sash has appendages of different coloured wool streamers that denote whether the maiden is betrothed.

Each group has its own dance step or song to mark their respect for the monarch and his mother. Tradition dictates that Mswati's only task is to sit back, enjoy the show, and pick a new child bride.

The contrast between such parties for the King's pleasure and the grim everyday life of his country's inhabitants could scarcely be starker.

The landlocked kingdom of Swaziland is sandwiched between Mozambique and South Africa.

It is a country in crisis, in the grip of an Aids epidemic. Last year, it surpassed Botswana to register the highest rate of HIV infection in the world.

More than two-thirds of its 1.1 million people survive on less than US$1 ($1.40) a day. The World Food Programme says nearly one-third of the population needs food aid. Life expectancy has plunged into the low 30s. As the Aids death toll rises, the average age has dropped to 18.

But, to the growing outrage of his people, the King's lavish entertainments appear to multiply each year.

The reed dance was not the only party last year. The King's 36th birthday bash had to be held in a football stadium - the only place big enough to fit the 10,000 guests.

Conservative estimates put the cost at close to $1.3 million.

One day a year is at least marked by royal abstinence.

On the fifth day of the yearly Incwala, or Kingship festival, Mswati sits in seclusion in the great hut.

No one else enjoys themselves either. Royal enforcers, known as the bemanti (water people) roam the capital in daylight hours, enforcing the rules of the day - no sexual contact, no touching water, wearing decorations, sitting on chairs or mats, shaking hands, scratching, singing, dancing or jollity.

Nor are the King's whims purely concerned with new acquisitions or new women.

Mswati is worried about the spread of Aids in Swaziland, and with good reason - nearly 40 per cent of adults are HIV positive.

The King's response was autocratic and somewhat unrealistic.

To fight the virus, he revived an ancient chastity law. For five years, virgins would be barred from so much as shaking hands with males. They would also be expected to wear traditional blue and yellow tassels to warn Swazi men not to touch them.

The sex ban has been difficult to enforce. Some maidens complain that if they have to wait five years before marrying, they will be too old to attract a husband.

And some Swazi men have had trouble curbing their urges, as Mswati's own story illustrates.

Zena Mahlangu was one of the dancing virgins clutching reeds and she caught the roving eye of the King.

A month after taking part in the reed ceremony, she was sitting in a classroom at school when two palace aides burst in and abducted her. She was told to prepare for betrothal and her new life as Mswati's 12th wife.

The King made compensation in the traditional manner by surrendering a cow from his enormous herd to the village where his fiancee lived. The beast was roasted and eaten amid much rejoicing.

But the girl's mother, Lindiwe Dlamini, was not satisfied and caused a storm in the kingdom when she challenged the King in court over the kidnapping.

In an unprecedented hearing, palace aides told the three-judge panel that the girl went willingly after having courtship conversations with the King on a cellphone.

There is no legal basis for these abductions, not even in Swaziland. But no country has a monarch like King Mswati.

Matters rarely work against the King, and palace aides wheeled out a bemused-looking Zena to tell the nation that she was now a happily married woman and had no desire to return to a life of poverty in her mother's village.

But finally, after years of flagrant, garish and expensive pomp and ceremony, it appears that the 10 BMWs may be one extravagance too many.

A lone mother and her brave act of defiance are not the only opponents Mswati now faces.

Swaziland's trade unions are considering a blockade of the country's borders in protest against his notorious profligacy.

The Swaziland Federation of Trade Unions called a successful two-day strike against the King last month. There is a new mood of determination to rein in the free-spending monarch.

"It's either the King listens to us, his subjects, or face an escalation of mass protests," said federation secretary-general Jan Sithole.

" We will not hesitate to blockade the borders as part of these protests."

Sithole said his federation was soliciting help from other regional trade unions, whose members would be asked to help in blockades if the King rejected the federation's demands for democracy.

A draft constitution due to be passed next month maintains a 1973 ban on political parties and empowers the King to rule by decree, making his word final and not subject to judicial review.

Sithole said the unions would impose more long blockades unless the King reformed.

Swaziland is almost wholly surrounded by South Africa except for a small strip of border it shares with Mozambique.

If a blockade was imposed, the country would be brought to its knees. Protesters would bar goods from being moved in and out of the country.

Immigration and customs officials, who belong to unions, would refuse to process visas and permits for people and goods. 

"We are in this struggle because we believe it can be won," said Sithole.

"You don't start a struggle to throw in the towel before it is won.

"Who believed that apartheid [in South Africa] could be defeated? It had to go because the will of the people had to prevail." 

Almost half of Swazis are unemployed. Of those with work, 66 per cent earn poverty-level wages.

There is no social safety net, and the old must fend for themselves.

Nyamuziye Khumalo's plight is typical. He was forced to quit his job last year after falling ill frequently, - a consequence of contracting HIV in the late 1990s.

His Chinese employer, part of a wave of textile firms welcomed by Mswati's puppet government, does not offer sick leave and fires anyone not able to work.

If he'd had early access to anti-retrovirals drugs, Khumalo believes he could have remained at least fit enough to continue working and fend for his seven children and two wives.

But when he went to one of the main state hospitals in Mbabane, he was told no such drugs exist.

"I was told my best defence would have been not to contract Aids in the first place.

"They said the Government was willing to help with anti-Aids drugs but it hasn't got the resources."

Khumalo, like almost half his sexually active countrymen, will likely die soon and leave orphans.

But King Mswati's Government has no programme to cater for these orphans.

Even with work, life was tough for Khumalo. His wages of $40 a month did not pay the bills and had to be supplemented by sending his two wives into the country to get free food from the World Food Programme.

International donors have yet to pull the plug on the spendthrift King, although his latest splurge on luxury cars will cost the equivalent of the daily wage of his nation's entire working population.

There is little sign that the King is listening to the protests.

When the BMWs arrive in the royal garage they will take their place next to the most expensive car in the world, a Maybach 62, made by DaimlerChrysler and costing US$500,000 before customisation.

It came with silver goblets, widescreen television sets and seating for the whole Mswati clan.

- INDEPENDENT