HARARE (Reuters) -Zimbabwe's President Robert Mugabe returned home from Singapore on Thursday, looking fit and defying reports that he was seriously ill. The 88-year-old leader bounded down the stairs of a white chartered plane, accompanied by his wife and was met at Harare's main airport by senior government officials, including his potential successor, vice president Joice Mujuru. Mugabe did not speak to reporters and was whisked away in his official presidential motorcade. Mugabe is one of Africa's longest serving leaders and has ruled the former British colony in southern Africa since 1980. He is sharing power with political rival Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai in a fragile coalition formed three years ago.

Source africagist.com

Hehehe . Looks like the old fart aint going anywhere in a hurry. He's just used one of his nine lives, and has eight more to go. At this rate, Zimbabaweans that can't wait to get shot of him would have to go medieval on his azz, and resort to old-fashioned, trusty clubs and spears to finish him off.

Kinda reminds me of those classic vampire movies though. Picture this: you're in Draculas Castle just before sunset, when you know he's still asleep (vampires sleep during the day remember ). After finally locating his coffin in the inner recesses of the castle, you open it quietly, at the same time pulling out your stake to drive through his heart as you've been instructed to do. Sweat pours down your brows and your hands shake with fear; your heart pounds so violently you're almost certain the noise would wake him up, that's if you don't get a heart attack first .

With the coffin fully open, you clutch the stake with both hands, and rising it way above your head, you bring it down sinking it deep into his heart with all the strength you can muster. Dracula opens his eyes and with a snarl of fury, makes to reach for your neck to trottle you to death as he aint going nowhere without a fight . You quickly retrieve the stake from his heart and furiously stab him a number of times more in quick frantic succession, and he finally collapses back into his coffin giving you one last evil glance b/4 (apparently) dying. You make a quick sign of the cross, and look up to the heavens mouthing a quiet prayer of gratitude.

As you heave a sigh of relief and wipe the sweat from your brows, making to get up from your knelt-down position, the tenacious bagger opens his eyes and lunges for you again. Yet again you stab the muthafucker repeatedly and furiously, all the time screaming obscenities that would make your parents wonder at the kind of job they did bringing you up. Finally (after repeated resurrections ) he yields to the beckoning of death, and you beat a hasty retreat through the maze of corridors, and out into the open just in time to see the sun disappear behind the far-off hills. You made it by the skin of your teeth .

Now this is how i see the Zimbabwean situation. Crazy innit .

^funny story.