Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe (right) swears in his longtime rival Morgan Tsvangirai as prime minister on Feb. 11, 2009, in an extraordinary concession after nearly three decades of virtually unchallenged rule. (Tsvangirayi Mukwazhi/Associated Press)Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe (right) swears in his longtime rival Morgan Tsvangirai as prime minister on Feb. 11, 2009, in an extraordinary concession after nearly three decades of virtually unchallenged rule. (Tsvangirayi Mukwazhi/Associated Press)

The London head office of Mukuru.com is cool and well equipped. The computers are new. Some of the staff sit comfortably on exercise balls instead of chairs. Others fiddle with a Skype connection they use to communicate with their growing network in southern Africa.

This is a thriving business and there are moments when, really, that could be considered a sad statement.

For a large part of what Mukuru.com does is make it possible for people around the world to donate the basic necessities of life directly to friends and relatives in Zimbabwe.

If you want to get money or fuel or meat or flour or basic foodstuffs to anyone in Zimbabwe, Mukuru can arrange it almost immediately, using vouchers and text messages.

As a result, the worse Zimbabwe gets, the busier are the folks at Mukuru.

The 'old crocodile'

Zimbabwe isn't the only country served but at the moment it's the centre of the action. On a visit last week, I watched workers here receive repeated calls from those desperate to put $100 in an account for someone in Zimbabwe or to arrange for a shipment of meat.

A woman holds up billions of nearly worthless Zimbabwean notes at a rally addressed by new Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai in Harare. (Tsvangirayi Mukwazhi/Associated Press)A woman holds up billions of nearly worthless Zimbabwean notes at a rally addressed by new Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai in Harare. (Tsvangirayi Mukwazhi/Associated Press)

At the worst of the cholera epidemic a few months back there were frantic calls for water to be delivered. The calls for help, says Sean, one of the workers at Mukuru, are definitely on the rise, even now as the face of Zimbabwe appears to be changing.

At the precise moment we were speaking Zimbabwe President Robert Mugabe, "Africa's old crocodile," as he's sometimes called, was swearing in Morgan Tsvangirai as prime minister. Bitter rivals, the two men could barely stand to look each other in the eye.

Tsvangirai has spent a decade trying to oust the 84-year-old president. For his efforts he's been beaten, harassed, persecuted and seen his supporters jailed and, in some cases, killed.

Can these two men really work together in a national-unity government? Can they really share leadership?

Thick with fear

Those at Mukuru seemed uncertain. "In the last few years people's hopes have been dented," Josh says. "It's been the same merry-go-round. Not so merry, actually."

Josh and Sean didn't want their last names used. But that is not unusual when it comes to Zimbabwe. Interviewed by journalists not long after the swearing-in ceremony, Tsvangirai felt he had to do it from a "secret location."

Even in high office, it seems he's not yet free from recourse.

In fact, Roy Bennett, one of the men Tsvangirai chose for a cabinet post was arrested at the Harare airport on Feb. 13, before he could assume his new job. The charges have already been changed several times. Treason was the initial charge, but now Bennett's lawyer says he is accused of attempting to commit terrorism, banditry and sabotage.

Who really won?

Tsvangirai may have thought, "If you can't beat him, join him" was a good strategic option, but some are now wondering if once again he is being simply outwitted by a wiley foe.

Remember, as opposition leader, Tsvangirai technically won the first round of the presidential election nearly a year ago. Fearing reprisals against his supporters, he pulled out of the second round and watched from the sidelines as Mugabe's forces violently secured their boss yet another sweeping victory in an election widely considered to be a sham.

Months ago, Tsvangirai enthusiastically shook hands on a power-sharing deal but then saw that collapse when Mugabe simply wouldn't share. There's a danger this new arrangement will be just as unsuccessful.

What's ahead?

Human rights lawyer Gugulethu Moyo sighs heavily when asked what's ahead for Tsvangirai now.

The key, she says, will be to see what happens with the security forces.

Legislation was passed recently that is supposed to ensure both parties oversee the reform of the defence forces. But those reforms have yet to begin.

"It would be very disappointing" Moyo says "if the security forces stay under Mugabe's control. Over the years, they have been used really to suppress opposition in the country. So the person who controls the army is really the person able to stay in power."

That power is wielded in curious ways. Moyo maintains that one of Tsvangirai's demands upon agreeing to become prime minister was that his party members be freed from jail.

But most were still behind bars on the day he was sworn in. They were still there as the week progressed. "We'll see," she says, "whether Tsvangirai can actually influence the situation and deliver his promises."

As anyone who has seen any pictures at all from Zimbabwe knows — and as those from Mukuru can attest — the need to deliver on those promises is desperate.

Zimbabwe is facing widespread hunger, nearly total unemployment, a massive cholera outbreak (nearly 70,000 ill, according to reports) and hyperinflation that has made a mockery of its currency.

To overcome these problems, Zimbabwe urgently needs a functioning economy, foreign investment and inclusion in the world community again.

Many are hopeful that Tsvangirai is the one who can restore the confidence of local investors and the international community but that's going to require that he be prime minister in more than just name.