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That upstairs more ahead of me than I had thought it would be, and is not like to have much earth brain. Grandfather kept me saying the Dho formula last night, and I think I chapter 2: the dunwich horror saw the inner city at the 2 magnetic poles. They from the air told me at Sabbat that it will be years before I can clear off the earth, and I guess grandfather will be dead then, so I shall have to learn all the angles of the planes and all the formulas between the Yr and the Nhhngr.

They from outside will help, but they cannot take body without human blood. That upstairs looks it will have the right cast. I can see it a little when I make the Voorish sign or blow the powder of Ibn Ghazi at it, and it is near like them at May-Eve on the Hill.

The other face may wear off some. I wonder how I shall look when the earth is cleared and there are no earth beings on it. He that came with the Aklo Sabaoth said I may be transfigured, there being much of outside to work on. Armitage in a cold sweat of terror and a frenzy of wakeful concentration.

He had not left the manuscript all night, but sat at his table under the electric light turning page after page with shaking hands as fast as he could decipher the cryptic text. He had nervously telephoned his wife he would not be home, and when she brought him a breakfast from the house he could scarcely dispose of a mouthful. All that day he read on, now and then halted maddeningly as a reapplication of the complex key became necessary.

Lunch and dinner were brought him, but he ate only the smallest fraction of either. On the morning of September 4th Professor Rice and Dr. Morgan insisted on seeing him for a while, and departed trembling and ashen-grey. That evening he went to bed, but slept only fitfully. Wednesday—the next day—he was back at the manuscript, and began to take copious notes both from the current sections and from those he had already deciphered.

In the small hours of that night he slept a little in an easy-chair in his office, but was at the manuscript again before dawn. Some time before noon his physician, Dr. Hartwell, called to see him and insisted that he cease work.

He refused; intimating that it was of the most vital importance for him to complete the reading of the diary, and promising an explanation in due course of time. That evening, just as twilight fell, he finished his terrible perusal and sank back exhausted.

His wife, bringing his dinner, found him in a half-comatose state; but he was conscious enough to warn her off with a sharp cry when he saw her eyes wander toward the notes he had taken. Weakly rising, he gathered up the scribbled papers and sealed them all in a great envelope, which he immediately placed in his inside coat pocket. He had sufficient strength to get home, but was so clearly in need of medical aid that Dr.

Hartwell was summoned at once. Armitage slept, but was partly delirious the next day. He made no explanations to Hartwell, but in his calmer moments spoke of the imperative need of a long conference with Rice and Morgan. His wilder wanderings were very startling indeed, including frantic appeals that something in a boarded-up farmhouse be destroyed, and fantastic references to some plan for the extirpation of the entire human race and all animal and vegetable life from the earth by some terrible elder race of beings from another dimension.

He would shout that the world was in danger, since the Elder Things wished to strip it and drag it away from the solar system and cosmos of matter into some other plane or phase of entity from which it had once fallen, vigintillions of aeons ago. At other times he would call for the dreaded Necronomicon and the Daemonolatreia of Remigius, in which he seemed hopeful of finding some formula to check the peril he conjured up.

He woke late Friday, clear of head, though sober with a gnawing fear and tremendous sense of responsibility.

Saturday afternoon he felt able to go over to the library and summon Rice and Morgan for a conference, and the rest of that day and evening the three men tortured their brains in the wildest speculation and the most desperate debate.

Strange and terrible books were drawn voluminously from the stack shelves and from secure places of storage; and diagrams and formulae were copied with feverish haste and in bewildering abundance. Of scepticism there was none. Opinions were divided as to notifying the Massachusetts State Police, and the negative finally won. There were things involved which simply could not be believed by those who had not seen a sample, as indeed was made clear during certain subsequent investigations.

Late at night the conference disbanded without having developed a definite plan, but all day Sunday Armitage was busy comparing formulae and mixing chemicals obtained from the college laboratory. The more he reflected on the hellish diary, the more he was inclined to doubt the efficacy of any material agent in stamping out the entity which Wilbur Whateley had left behind him—the earth-threatening entity which, unknown to him, was to burst forth in a few hours and become the memorable Dunwich horror.

Monday was a repetition of Sunday with Dr. Armitage, for the task in hand required an infinity of research and experiment. Further consultations of the monstrous diary brought about various changes of plan, and he knew that even in the end a large amount of uncertainty must remain. Then, on Wednesday, the great shock came. Tucked obscurely away in a corner of the Arkham Advertiser was a facetious little item from the Associated Press, telling what a record-breaking monster the bootleg whiskey of Dunwich had raised up.

Armitage, half stunned, could only telephone for Rice and Morgan. Far into the night they discussed, and the next day was a whirlwind of preparation on the part of them all. Armitage knew he would be meddling with terrible powers, yet saw that there was no other way to annul the deeper and more malign meddling which others had done before him. The day was pleasant, but even in the brightest sunlight a kind of quiet dread and portent seemed to hover about the strangely domed hills and the deep, shadowy ravines of the stricken region.

Now and then on some mountain-top a gaunt circle of stones could be glimpsed against the sky. Throughout that afternoon they rode around Dunwich; questioning the natives concerning all that had occurred, and seeing for themselves with rising pangs of horror the drear Frye ruins with their lingering traces of the tarry stickiness, the blasphemous tracks in the Frye yard, the wounded Seth Bishop cattle, and the enormous swaths of disturbed vegetation in various places.

The trail up and down Sentinel Hill seemed to Armitage of almost cataclysmic significance, and he looked long at the sinister altar-like stone on the summit. At length the visitors, apprised of a party of State Police which had come from Aylesbury that morning in response to the first telephone reports of the Frye tragedy, decided to seek out the officers and compare notes as far as practicable.

This, however, they found more easily planned than performed; since no sign of the party could be found in any direction. There had been five of them in a car, but now the car stood empty near the ruins in the Frye yard. The natives, all of whom had talked with the policemen, seemed at first as perplexed as Armitage and his companions. Then old Sam Hutchins thought of something and turned pale, nudging Fred Farr and pointing to the dank, deep hollow that yawned close by.

Armitage, now that he had actually come upon the horror and its monstrous work, trembled with the responsibility he felt to be his. Night would soon fall, and it was then that the mountainous blasphemy lumbered upon its eldritch course. Negotium perambulans in tenebris. The old librarian rehearsed the formulae he had memorised, and clutched the paper containing the alternative one he had not memorised.

He saw that his electric flashlight was in working order. Armitage, having read the hideous diary, knew painfully well what kind of a manifestation to expect; but he did not add to the fright of the Dunwich people by giving any hints or clues.

He hoped that it might be conquered without any revelation to the world of the monstrous thing it had escaped. As the shadows gathered, the natives commenced to disperse homeward, anxious to bar themselves indoors despite the present evidence that all human locks and bolts were useless before a force that could bend trees and crush houses when it chose.

There were rumblings under the hills that night, and the whippoorwills piped threateningly. Once in a while a wind, sweeping up out of Cold Spring Glen, would bring a touch of ineffable foetor to the heavy night air; such a foetor as all three of the watchers had smelled once before, when they stood above a dying thing that had passed for fifteen years and a half as a human being. But the looked-for terror did not appear. Whatever was down there in the glen was biding its time, and Armitage told his colleagues it would be suicidal to try to attack it in the dark.

Morning came wanly, and the night-sounds ceased. It was a grey, bleak day, with now and then a drizzle of rain; and heavier and heavier clouds seemed to be piling themselves up beyond the hills to the northwest.

The men from Arkham were undecided what to do. Seeking shelter from the increasing rainfall beneath one of the few undestroyed Frye outbuildings, chapter 2: the dunwich horror they debated the wisdom of waiting, or of taking the aggressive and going down into the glen in quest of their nameless, monstrous quarry. The downpour waxed in heaviness, and distant peals of thunder sounded from far horizons. Sheet lightning shimmered, and then a forky bolt flashed near at hand, as if descending into the accursed glen itself.

The sky grew very dark, and the watchers hoped that the storm would prove a short, sharp one followed by clear weather. It was still gruesomely dark when, not much over an hour later, a confused babel of voices sounded down the road. Another moment brought to view a frightened group of more than a dozen men, running, shouting, and even whimpering hysterically.

Someone in the lead began sobbing out words, and the Arkham men started violently when those words developed a coherent form. Jest still-like. You men know that those Whateleys were wizards—well, this thing is a thing of wizardry, and must be put down by the same means.

How about it? The sky was growing lighter, and there were signs that the storm had worn itself away. When Armitage inadvertently took a wrong direction, Joe Osborn warned him and walked ahead to shew the right one.

Courage and confidence were mounting; though the twilight of the almost perpendicular wooded hill which lay toward the end of their short cut, and among whose fantastic ancient trees they had to scramble as if up a ladder, put these qualities to a severe test. At length they emerged on a muddy road to find the sun coming out. They were a little beyond the Seth Bishop place, but bent trees and hideously unmistakable tracks shewed what had passed by.

Only a few moments were consumed in surveying the ruins just around the bend. It was the Frye incident all over again, and nothing dead or living was found in either of the collapsed shells which had been the Bishop house and barn. No one cared to remain there amidst the stench and tarry stickiness, but all turned instinctively to the line of horrible prints leading on toward the wrecked Whateley farmhouse and the altar-crowned slopes of Sentinel Hill.

It was no joke tracking down something as big as a house that one could not see, but that had all the vicious malevolence of a daemon.

Armitage produced a pocket telescope of considerable power and scanned the steep green side of the hill. Then he handed the instrument to Morgan, whose sight was keener. After a moment of gazing Morgan cried out sharply, passing the glass to Earl Sawyer and indicating a certain spot on the slope with his finger.

It was one thing to chase the nameless entity, but quite another to find it. Voices began questioning Armitage about what he knew of the thing, and no reply seemed quite to satisfy. Everyone seemed to feel himself in close proximity to phases of Nature and of being utterly forbidden, and wholly outside the sane experience of mankind. In the end the three men from Arkham—old, white-bearded Dr. Armitage, stocky, iron-grey Professor Rice, and lean, youngish Dr.

Morgan—ascended the mountain alone. After much patient instruction regarding its focussing and use, they left the telescope with the frightened group that remained in the road; and as they climbed they were watched closely by those among whom the glass was passed around. It was hard going, and Armitage had to be helped more than once. High above the toiling group the great swath trembled as its hellish maker re-passed with snail-like deliberateness. Then it was obvious that the pursuers were gaining.

Curtis Whateley—of the undecayed branch—was holding the telescope when the Arkham party detoured radically from the swath. He told the crowd that the men were evidently trying to get to a subordinate peak which overlooked the swath at a point considerably ahead of where the shrubbery was now bending. This, indeed, proved to be true; and the party were seen to gain the minor elevation only a short time after the invisible blasphemy h a d passed it.

The crowd stirred uneasily, recalling that this sprayer was expected to give the unseen horror a moment of visibility. Two or three men shut their eyes, but Curtis Whateley snatched back the telescope and strained his vision to the utmost. Curtis, who had held the instrument, dropped it with a piercing shriek into the ankle-deep mud of the road. He reeled, and would have crumpled to the ground had not two or three others seized and steadied him.

Curtis was past all coherence, and even isolated replies were almost too much for him. Fred Farr and Will Hutchins carried him to the roadside and laid him on the damp grass. Henry Wheeler, trembling, turned the rescued telescope on the mountain to see what he might. Through the lenses were discernible three tiny figures, apparently running toward the summit as fast as the steep incline allowed.

Only these—nothing more. Then everyone noticed a strangely unseasonable noise in the deep valley behind, and even in the underbrush of Sentinel Hill itself. It was the piping of unnumbered whippoorwills, and in their shrill chorus there seemed to lurk a note of tense and evil expectancy. Earl Sawyer now took the telescope and reported the three figures as standing on the topmost ridge, virtually level with the altar-stone but at a considerable distance from it.

One figure, he said, seemed to be raising its hands above its head at rhythmic intervals; and as Sawyer mentioned the circumstance the crowd seemed to hear a faint, half-musical sound from the distance, as if a loud chant were accompanying the gestures.

The weird silhouette on that remote peak must have been a spectacle of infinite grotesqueness and impressiveness, but no observer was in a mood for aesthetic appreciation. The whippoorwills were piping wildly, and in a singularly curious irregular rhythm quite unlike that of the visible ritual. Suddenly the sunshine seemed to lessen without the intervention of any discernible cloud. It was a very peculiar phenomenon, and was plainly marked by all.

A rumbling sound seemed brewing beneath the hills, mixed strangely with a concordant rumbling which clearly came from the sky. Lightning flashed aloft, and the wondering crowd looked in vain for the portents of storm. The chanting of the men from Arkham now became unmistakable, and Wheeler saw through the glass that they were all raising their arms in the rhythmic incantation. From some farmhouse far away came the frantic barking of dogs. The change in the quality of the daylight increased, and the crowd gazed about the horizon in wonder.

Then the lightning flashed again, somewhat brighter than before, and the crowd fancied that it had shewed a certain mistiness around the altar-stone on the distant height. No one, however, had been using the telescope at that instant. The whippoorwills continued their irregular pulsation, and the men of Dunwich braced themselves tensely against some imponderable menace with which the atmosphere seemed surcharged. Without warning came those deep, cracked, raucous vocal sounds which will never leave the memory of the stricken group who heard them.

Not from any human throat were they born, for the organs of man can yield no such acoustic perversions. Rather would one have said they came from the pit itself, had not their source been so unmistakably the altarstone on the peak. It is almost erroneous to call them sounds at all, since so much of their ghastly, infra-bass timbre spoke to dim seats of consciousness and terror far subtler than the ear; yet one must do so, since their form was indisputably though vaguely that of half-articulate words.

They were loud—loud as the rumblings and the thunder above which they echoed—yet did they come from no visible being. Henry Wheeler strained his eye at the telescope, but saw only the three grotesquely silhouetted human figures on the peak, all moving their arms furiously in strange gestures as their incantation drew near its culmination.

From what black wells of Acherontic fear or feeling, from what unplumbed gulfs of extra-cosmic consciousness or obscure, long-latent heredity, were those half-articulate thunder-croakings drawn? Presently they began to gather renewed force and coherence as they grew in stark, utter, ultimate frenzy.

The pallid group in the road, still reeling at the indisputably English syllables that had poured thickly and thunderously down from the frantic vacancy beside that shocking altar-stone, were never to hear such syllables again. Instead, they jumped violently at the terrific report which seemed to rend the hills; the deafening, cataclysmic peal whose source, be it inner earth or sky, no hearer was ever able to place.

A single lightning-bolt shot from the purple zenith to the altar-stone, and a great tidal wave of viewless force and indescribable stench swept down from the hill to all the countryside. Dogs howled from the distance, green grass and foliage wilted to a curious, sickly yellow-grey, and over field and forest were scattered the bodies of dead whippoorwills. The stench left quickly, but the vegetation never came right again.

To this day there is something queer and unholy about the growths on and around that fearsome hill. Curtis Whateley was only just regaining consciousness when the Arkham men came slowly down the mountain in the beams of a sunlight once more brilliant and untainted.

They were grave and quiet, and seemed shaken by memories and reflections even more terrible than those which had reduced the group of natives to a state of cowed quivering. In reply to a jumble of questions they only shook their heads and reaffirmed one vital fact. It was an impossibility in a normal world. Only the least fraction was really matter in any sense we know. It was like its father—and most of it has gone back to him in some vague realm or dimension outside our material universe; some vague abyss out of which only the most accursed rites of human blasphemy could ever have called him for a moment on the hills.

Memory seemed to pick itself up where it had left off, and the horror of the sight that had prostrated him burst in upon him again. Only old Zebulon Whateley, who wanderingly remembered ancient things but who had been silent heretofore, spoke aloud. We have no business calling in such things from outside, and only very wicked people and very wicked cults ever try to.

There was some of it in Wilbur Whateley himself—enough to make a devil and a precocious monster of him, and to make his passing out a pretty terrible sight. Things like that brought down the beings those Whateleys were so fond of—the beings they were going to let in tangibly to wipe out the human race and drag the earth off to some nameless place for some nameless purpose.

It grew fast and big from the same reason that Wilbur grew fast and big—but it beat him because it had a greater share of the outsideness in it. It was his twin brother, but it looked more like the father than he did. Working as a team, investigators can come from disparate backgrounds and be of varied occupations—each bringing certain expertise to the group.

Together, joined in comradeship and common purpose, you will stand steadfast against the coming darkness. This chapter provides the rules for creating investigator player characters. A two-page spread that provides a handy summary for quick reference can be found on pages Before you begin rolling dice you should talk to the Keeper and ask for guidance on creating a suitable investigator for the scenario that you are going to play.

The Keeper may stipulate strict guidelines, such as which professions you can chose from, or may leave it completely open to you. The location or country in which the game is set. Does the Keeper recommend any occupations? Suggestions for how the investigators might know each other. The Keeper may tell you a great deal or very little about the scenario.

Listen to what is said and ask any questions you may have. Once you have an idea for an investigator, run it past your Keeper for approval. This conversation can serve to stimulate imagination and create links between the investigators, helping to create a suitable mix of player characters. If the Keeper says the investigators are going to be hired for an investigation, think about making an investigator who needs the money. When beginning a game of Call of Cthulhu, it is recommended that all the players “roll-up” their investigators together in the company of the person who will be taking on the role of Keeper— this ensures that everyone helps to form the group, with each investigator taking an agreed role, ensuring that a balance of skills and occupations is found.

If the premise asks that your investigator be part of an academic team attending a conference, perhaps your character could be one of the speakers. Giving your investigator more relevance to the story and making the “hook” stronger will make the game better. Any connections that you create between your investigator and the plot are likely to hold greater emotional resonance for you than anything the Keeper supplies.

If the Keeper is unable to give much of a premise you can still create some interesting facets to your investigator without knowing how they will come into play. The Keeper may pick up on some of these facets and incorporate them into the scenario.

Creating Your Investigator There is more than one approach to creating an investigator. Some people prefer to have an idea about the type of investigator they wish to create before rolling any dice, while others prefer to let the dice rolls guide their choices.

What follows are the standard rules for creating investigators, with further options at the end of this chapter. In the game each characteristic represents an aspect of an investigator—intelligence, dexterity, and so on. These identified quantities determine the relative capability of investigators and suggest ways for them to act and react during play. Characteristic values are generated randomly by rolling two or more six-sided dice. Rolling Characteristics Initially, write your results on a piece of scrap paper before writing them onto the investigator sheet as they may be modified by the age of your investigator.

Enhancing Your Character’s Background The Keeper has presented an initial premise for the game, which involves an expedition team from the Miskatonic University traveling into the wilds in search of a missing colleague.

Amy asks if her investigator might work in the same department as the missing person. The Keeper agrees. Strength measures the muscle power of an investigator. The higher it is, the more the investigator can lift or tightly cling to something. This characteristic determines the damage an investigator inflicts in hand-to-hand combat. Reduced to STR 0, an investigator is an invalid, unable to get out of bed. Constitution represents health, vigor, and vitality.

Investigators with a high constitution often have more hit points—the better to resist injury and attack. Serious physical injury or magical attack might lower the statistic, and if Constitution reaches zero the investigator dies.

Introducing Harvey Walters To help illustrate the various rules of Call of Cthulhu, we are pleased to introduce you to Harvey Walters, the noted s New York journalist and investigator of the supernatural. We use Harvey to demonstrate how character creation works. To differentiate between the person playing Harvey and the actual character of Harvey, the investigator in the game, the player is female and her investigator is male. For a walk-through of Harvey’s character creation see page Investigators with higher Dexterity scores are quicker, nimbler, and more physically flexible.

A DEX roll might be made to grab a support to keep from falling, to move faster than an opponent, or to accomplish some delicate task. An investigator with zero DEX is uncoordinated and unable to perform physical tasks. In combat, the character with the highest DEX acts first.

Appearance measures both physical attractiveness and personality. A person with high APP is charming and likeable, but may lack conventional good looks. An investigator with APP of 0 is appallingly ugly or someone with a wholly detestable demeanor, provoking comment and shock everywhere.

APP may be useful in social encounters or when trying to make a good impression. Intelligence represents how well investigators learn, remember, analyze information, and solve complex puzzles. An investigator with zero INT is a babbling, drooling idiot. Size averages both height and weight into a single number.

To see over a wall, to squeeze through a small opening, or even to judge whose head might be sticking up out of the grass, use size. Size helps determine hit points, damage bonus, and build. Presumably if investigators lose all SIZ points they disappear—goodness knows to where!

This development process whilst being fairly good needs to be rethought and the following changes roped in:. Village development committees and assemblies should have elected chairpersons. Once most village heads are male it means virtually almost all Vidcos will be headed by men, which is a clear negation of the leave-no-one-behind principle seeing that women will be excluded. A clear planning template must be provided for village and ward plans. Currently an individual sitting under a tree can draw up a village plan because there is no template.

Capacity and roles of Vidcos and Wadcos — a lot of village development committees have become appendages of the ruling party instead of being agents of development. Videos and Wadcos must be trained on their roles and responsibilities so that they deliver their development role. De-dualisation of rural local governance — traditional leaders and councillors are often at loggerheads in the local development planning process because their respective roles are not well understood.

This is accentuated by the fact that at district level there is a District Development Coordinator, formerly District Administrator and Chief Executive Officer who again clash a lot of times thus affecting local development.

However, economic analyst Victor Bhoroma said this does little to help the workers in both the civil service and private sector as disposable incomes were being eroded by inflation. Economist Alice Chenjerai said revenue enhancement measures were critical as the economy was still recovering from the Covid related stress.

She said any such measures, particularly through taxation, must be carefully calibrated to ensure that they do not create any disincentives against investment, consumption and production process. It means the tax rate is increased in line with the growth rate of nominal GDP. This royalty rate will also apply to the lithium sector. Bhoroma said by reviewing the platinum royalty rate, the government was looking at extra revenue streams in line with regional practices on taxing the extractive sector.

Dhlamini said the rebate on equipment for scientific research was welcome given that most tertiary institutions have innovation as part of their core mandate. Bhoroma said the move would spur scientific research in the country considering the fact that Zimbabwe has very limited investment in research and development. Ncube also provided Vat registered operators with the option to pay duty in foreign currency to facilitate offsetting of output and input tax in the same currency.

According to Bhoroma, this was largely expected because the Treasury is looking at improving its foreign currency coffers and meet core and non-core expenditure.

However, he said, this calls for the government to institute a free market-determined rate on foreign exchange to ensure that businesses are not indirectly taxed due to exchange rate disparities that lead to foreign exchange losses. Dhlamini said this will aid the accounting of transactions for most companies by giving them that particular option. It makes accounting and reporting on financial statements easier.

Economist Justice Dzama said the issue of incorporating the US dollar component in the Vat of retailers would enable the government to collect the US dollar component from the shops without tax evasion.

Our business reporter Tanyaradzwa Nhari TN spoke to Muchanyuka on various issues including the tasks and challenges she faces in her new role. Below are excerpts:. Working for airlines gave me the opportunity to sit in leadership positions of the Tourism Business Council of Zimbabwe TBCZ where I became the president of the organisation. To break this down, we are faced with the need to promote domestic tourism, increase regional receipts as well as to prioritise Mice meetings, incentives, conferences and exhibitions tourism.

TN: Which areas do you think require immediate attention in the tourism industry? WM: To work with enabling sectors, especially on accessibility. A destination that is not accessible becomes difficult to promote and is less appealing to potential tourists. It is therefore critical that our road and air networks talk to the needs of tourism for both the local and international visitor.

The sector has been recovering well as evidenced by the performance of the first quarter, compared to the last 24 months. There has been significant growth in the domestic market, so naturally this becomes an area of interest and will have our attention. We will promote the ZimBho campaign. We will also be paying attention to Mice tourism promotion because we believe this is a green field. We are also trying to reposition the destination in the source markets to competitively appeal to the international traveller.

This will be a position we seek to consolidate and improve. It is our plan to regain our lost position and surpass it. In this plan, we have anchored everything on three pillars in order to achieve our set objectives and goals.

These are domestic tourism, regional tourism and international tourism. We pay particular attention to domestic tourism development, promotion and culture change. This will help us to increase the earning capacity of the sector which in turn will aid the international receipts. We will use digital marketing as a tool to promote the destination to both local and international tourists. Our strategy will weigh on the promotion and hosting of Mice events to contribute to the total receipts.

TN: Domestic tourism has long been a low hanging fruit and that mostly has to do with pricing, yet, so much potential lies in it. For example, in India, the Taj Mahal attracts significantly lower fees for locals as compared to foreigners and the numbers are balanced out in the increased numbers of Indians who visit the attraction.

How do you plan to promote domestic tourism and deal with pricing issues? WM: I must say the ZimBho campaign has done well and we need to ride on its success to build sustainability. However, there is a need to cooperate more with industry so that they arrange promotions that suit the different market segments.

As for pricing issues, these remain a point of engagement with industry to ensure that products are accessible and affordable and at the same time that industry remains viable. Will this help and if so in what way? WM: Firstly, allow me to acknowledge the important role that the government has played in the recovery from the effects of the Covid pandemic.

There are many inputs that the sector needs that require foreign currency and allowing players to retain forex revenue will assist them to meet those needs and most funds channelled towards upgrading of facilities. WM: We cannot exactly prescribe what they should use the funds for but it would be great if as a destination we focused on upgrading the product through refurbishments and training of personnel.

The infrastructure needs attention in most areas and this may go a long way in the transformation of the product. TN: Pricing levies and charges are being affected by the continued depreciation of the Zimbabwean dollar. As a result, operators are feeling the effects as these costs are passed on to tourists. It is a tax imposed on the consumer not the player. The player simply collects on behalf of the central government.

Some of the issues are dealt with at macro-level and are beyond the ZTA. We can only play our role as an authority to make a positive contribution to the economy. TN: There have been several promotions to promote Zimbabwe to locals. While that has helped increase domestic tourism the pace is still slow. Is there any plan you have to do things to promote local visits differently? WM: We believe that ZimBho has done well. We will continue to promote it countrywide.

However, there is more that can be done towards growing domestic tourism and we are exploring the different promotional options. We have come up with several strategies that we will soon be unveiling.

TN: Power cuts have become an issue for hotels. Just recently, we heard how the five-star hotel, Meikles, is asking guests to use buckets for hot water. What are you doing to help hotels have alternatives when faced with power cuts? WM: That incident at the Meikles was a once-in-a-long-time one and rather unfortunate. Things have generally improved for power generation in the country and we will continue lobbying with the relevant authorities to get tourism products the priority they deserve. However, things should be put in a proper context; the power challenge was not confined to one entity.

It was a problem that affected a portion of the CBD as the power utility announced. That single incident does not take away the glamour of the five-star hotel for which the grading covers a lot more than just that issue.

As a country and even as a region that is having power shortages, we encourage operators to have backup power supply. Email killing letter writing. Nedbank boost for Junior Sables. Retrieved 17 June The Right Stuff. The British Fighter since Annapolis, Maryland : Naval Institute Press. LCCN Naval Aviation News.

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