Zimbabwe coup: There comes a time to quit or be forced out

People who have experienced the brute force that is the trademark of Africa’s military forces will not support a coup. In fact, the African Union is clear in its charter that it does not recognise any leader who seizes power through the barrel of the gun.

It was therefore curious to note that news of President Robert Mugabe’s ouster by his soldiers elicited celebrations instead of the usual condemnation in many quarters.

The truth is, Mugabe had it coming. His rise and fall should be a wake-up call to a number of African leaders who, sadly, are hell-bent on following in his steps.

This brand of African leaders starts out as promising revolutionaries, firebrand politicians who convince the masses that they are saviors, liberators, messiahs of their countries’ troubled destinies.

Whether by making heroic entries after long bloody struggles or sweet-talking their way into voters’ hearts to get voted, they start as icons of hope, and end up as despicable villains.

So did Mugabe 37 years ago. He came to power with a promise of hope. He leaves power as a tragic old character that destroyed his country’s economy-at one point Zimbabwe’s inflation figures hit 500 billion- and above all, who destroyed his own legacy.

Somewhere along the way, power gets into their heads, corrupting them as all absolute power does.

The signs of their fall are always there. If they were not too blinded by it, the people around them see it coming.

They say when the gods want to destroy a man, they make him proud. They make him believe he is indispensable; that he is God’s gift to his people.

So it is for many African heads of state, and so was Old Bob, who until yesterday was the world’s oldest president.

His exit is a warning to other presidents who still want to cling to power long after their time is over: Get out while you can. Like they say, the best time to leave is when you have given your best, when the accolades are flowing; when the crowds want to make you King for life.

That was what Apartheid hero Nelson Mandela did; he served his one term, got his Nobel accolades and left.

Sadly, Mugabe never realised this.

Still, long before he was deposed, it was clear that time had already overthrown Mugabe. At 93, old Bob still believed that he was in control, urged on by a clique of court poets keen on collecting the spoils of his rapidly declining legacy.

Which reminds us, that maybe it was not Mugabe who was deposed yesterday, but the circle of self-seeking characters around him, who made him believe he was still the young champion stud that became president back in the 80s.

Maybe it is these same characters who we should blame for much of the problems our continent faces; characters who tell our presidents what they want to hear; characters who blow into weak egos of our heads of state, telling them they are never wrong, that they have been chosen by the gods, that the presidency is their right.

They did it to Mugabe; they are doing it elsewhere in Africa.

Mugabe would have been up there with great revolutionaries in Africa if he had learnt when to quit.

He did not.

So now, millions of Zimbabweans who have known him as their only president since they were born will remember him, not as the revolutionary who would move the country with his fiery speeches, but as a sad old man with a cute domineering wife.