They have already taken the first step which could lead to targeted sanctions against Harare and the suspension of some types of aid.The Commonwealth Conference opens six weeks later, in March, and Zimbabwe must hold its presidential elections before the end of that month if it is not to be in violation of its constitution. Mr Mugabe is standing for re-election.Short of suspending Zimbabwe, CMAG could warn of targeted sanctions on named senior officials if there is no let-up in the violence.. At first sight the Chawama Clinic seems likely to be a desperate and depressing place On the forecourt, a woman sits wailing on the gravel Her husband has just died. Minutes ago he was one of four emaciated patients clinging to life in a makeshift ward. By this afternoon another patient in the terminal stages of Aids will have taken his bed. Christopher Simutengu at the ClinicCharity auction
Bid to be a character in Ian Rankin’s next novelIan Rankin’s sitePrevious articlesYour chance of immortalityIn Maureen’s grotto, the fun is all routineDisabled groups unite villages in fight for justiceHelp for children who battle through hard timesGame whose goal is to restore passion and prideVolunteers who help Catalina defy the oddsLand-mine victims saved by a sense of purposeHow telling horror stories helps parents to copeFighting cruelty and prejudiceHow to donate At first sight the Chawama Clinic seems likely to be a desperate and depressing place On the forecourt, a woman sits wailing on the gravel Her husband has just died.

It is 9am and about 300 men, women and children are moaning, screaming or just staring at the floor, as they wait to see a lone GP Many have been here since 6am. But given the shortage of drugs and the poverty in Zambia, almost everyone will leave with a handful of painkillers and a prescription they cannot afford to present to a pharmacy.To the casual observer this shanty-town clinic is little more than a threshold of death But there is something else. For the activity in this last building in the clinic’s grounds verges on miraculous. It is a place where children are brought to be made better, not just kept alive.About 25 mothers and children have crowded into the L-shaped room, just as they do every Thursday The mere fact that they are here is an achievement.

Each woman in the room has tackled an obstacle course of prejudice. She has convinced fathers, relatives and judgemental neighbours that even a child that cannot crawl, cannot sit up, will not grow or which makes ugly, twitching movements is worthy of the bus fare needed to get here.Those who have seen what happens can be in no doubt. For here – thanks to funding from Action on Disability and Development (Add), one of the two charities readers of The Independent are supporting in our Christmas Appeal this year – physically disabled children are receiving physiotherapy that is transforming their lives, and that of their mothers.Veronica Simutengu, aged 25, is still grappling with the guilt of having given birth seven years ago to Christopher, who has athetosis – brain damage that means that the signals he sends to his limbs are corrupted “It was a long labour I feel bad even now I feel it was my fault. You see, I was so young,” she says.Resources do not stretch to counselling the mothers, though the physiotherapist Sylvia Phiri, a Zambian national, tries to link up new parents with more long-standing clients so they can help one another. An increasing number of parents – 23 so far – are volunteering to assist Add’s two full-time physiotherapists. And the charity’s staff have found 85 volunteer teachers who go to the homes of 90 disabled children to give them one-to-one preparation for school.The problems they face are social as well as physical and psychological.

“Couples quarrel after they have had a disabled child; some end up separating,” says Mrs Phiri “The relatives always blame the mother. Some believe she has been bewitched or done something wrong, like going with another man during her pregnancy. We can tell that some of the children have been neglected or hidden away for some time before being brought to us.”That is a terrible shame because, the younger the brain, the more we can do,” she says. “But the children are brought to us late, often in their second year, when the parents have noticed that they are not yet able to sit.”Christopher lets out a groan of delight as Violet Pikiti, a second physiotherapist, props him up against a bench and manipulates his shoulders to stimulate the under-developed muscles. Veronica, in a rare break from her demanding son, says he has improved greatly in his six years of stretches and exercises. The Add meetings have not only helped his body but also his mind; there are no toys at home, so it has been a treat every Thursday to play with colourful bricks and the odd gizmo with a flashing light.The Simutengu family, who run a store from a disused shipping container, live not far away in Chawama and would just about get by if all three of their children were able-bodied “Christopher needs more than the others,” Veronica says. Yet a wheelchair would cost about £150, or roughly what the family earns in a year.That is why Add is spearheading attempts to change social attitudes and lobby for changes in government policy, as well as working with a local workshop in town, which uses recycled cardboard to make chairs, support frames and walkers at affordable prices.Grace Mulonda, another of the physiotherapists, says: “We take the view that Add may not be here for ever, so it is crucial to mobilise the parents and keep putting pressure on the government.”.