I will not say I had not seen it coming since the signs had, for some considerable time, been flickering on the horizon. And when they finally unveiled their new identity on January 24, I experienced a feeling which, previously, I had not anticipated at all.
Truly, I am now so grateful the healing has finally begun. While the pace has not peaked yet, I remain hopeful that the other formations at Harvest House and in Bulawayo would eventually follow suit, one way or the other.
That should, undoubtedly, result in complete therapeutic relief, and real personal satisfaction. This had become overdue, to say the least.
Looked at objectively, and without fear or favour, the parasitic exploitation of my coinage had increasingly been not only toxic but legendary. The need for it to cease completely cannot, therefore, be overemphasised.
Nonetheless, I am not yet certain of what will become of the scars inflicted on me.
At one stage I had considered legal action over the brand’s continued abuse, but failed to find suitable legislation on which to base my perspective, particularly given that I possess no related patent.
The recent name tag launch at Bronte Hotel, unavoidably, led me into a thoughtful drive down memory lane. Unsurprisingly, it’s a familiar terrain, believe you me:
Eight days into May, and winter 1999, with its low temperatures, was approaching. And with it, a disappearance of much of the bloom around us, and the beautiful fragrance which usually characterised Zimbabwe’s flaura and fauna.
But nothing compared much to the natural warmth which emanated from the receding sun’s rays. Little wonder, in fact, we had spent much of the previous day deliberating on pertinent matters seated outside the main auditorium, enjoying what had been left of a beautiful sunshine season.
Gift Chimanikire, a middle-aged, stocky and bearded general secretary with the Posts and Telecommunications and Allied Workers Union at the time, was chairperson of the proceedings. It was a thematic committee on information matters.
Chimanikire’s presence in this setup, as well as mine, had been strategically planned. Just as the placement of several other sons and daughters in various committees of the labour-run process.
Literally at the eleventh hour, we had successfully wiggled ourselves from the scantily veiled National Constitutional Assembly (NCA)’s pursuit of political relevancy in Zimbabwe’s then trying political and economic circumstances.
Disposable incomes had been seriously eroded to unprecedented levels; industry and commerce had been subjected to unavoidable downsizing, and the resultant job losses had unbearable consequences on communities; while social, political and economic space was generally shrinking to exasperating levels.
As outlined at its strategic workshop held in the mountainous Nyanga area in the country’s eastern highlands, the labour centre’s governing General Council had undertaken to explore all possibilities available to it in order to safeguard the endangered interests of labour throughout the country.
Initially welcome, then labour top administrator Morgan Tsvangirai’s chairmanship of the NCA had subsequently proved largely unhelpful to the labour movement as there were so many competing interests in that organisation which was headquartered in Harare’s leafy Herbert Chitepo Avenue.
Reason why, despite the implications, some of us in the thick of things at the time, saw it prudent to turn our backs on that ‘constitutional matters’ initiative. Our resolve was firmly anchored on the realization that we could not let non-contributing passengers ride on the hugely successful impact of labour organized mass actions.
Indeed, the historic national demonstrations and job stay-aways, which exposed a deep-seated shift in national attitudes and loyalties from previous norms and practices, could not be shared value with free riders.
A lot of bitterness, some of which was unfair but expected, consequently followed the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions’ retreat from Herbert Chitepo Avenue.
For my unrecognizable part in that exodus, interestingly, I have borne the brunt of the resultant jealousy and revenge unleashed by some of labor’s erstwhile bedfellows in civic society.
At the break of my 30s, and usually quiet but observant with a skeptical eye, I was the oldest of the other members in the Chimanikire led committee. I was an editor of The Worker, which was a monthly newspaper published by the ZCTU.
Apart from managing the publication, as well as editing all of its news content, I was also responsible for its page making, layout and design. This included writing headlines for much of the editorial content. It was an undertaking which once landed me in some hot soup.
The labour centre’s chairman during my stint at The Worker, which spanned from 1994 to 2000, was the charismatic Isaac Matongo. As fate would have it, in 1996 Matongo lost his leadership of an affiliate of the ZCTU, the National Engineering Workers Union. The tumble occurred in a dramatic manner which was captured in a factual news report that landed on my desk.
The article contained, by and large, fair and objective comment, without any tangible sting to it. Many in the labour movement at the time, though, did not take lightly to the headline which I had ascribed to it: ‘Matongo Bites the Dust’!
The matter had slid into history when I attended the ZCTU post-convention meeting.
Besides, I had later in the aftermath developed a relatively close working relationship with Matongo, thanks, largely and surprisingly, to Tsvangirai, who somehow had drawn the two of us together, to the extent of even sending Matongo, Eusaph Mdlongwa and I on a two-week post-convention briefing tour of key areas in Midlands, Matabeleland South and North provinces.
Also on the vibrant committee led by Chimanikire was a young man who had noticeably just gotten his key into adulthood. In fact, Nelson Chamisa was the youngest member of the thematic committee on information.
Inclined to oratory, he was so much into student activism. Chamisa was studying business matters at Harare Polytechnic, where, earlier, I had done Mass Communications.
The others in the committee, whose ages averaged 24, were Learnmore Jongwe, Enerst Musengi, Takura Zhangazha and Grace Kwinjeh.
A young mother then, Kwinjeh was an employee of the Zimbabwe chapter of Media Institute of Southern Africa. Its director then was Vincent Chikwari, who was also a member of The Worker’s editorial board. His office was adjacent to mine, with the doors approximately three metres apart.
The remainder of the group were all enrolled at the University of Zimbabwe.
Group discussions were lively and, by and large, focused at the task at hand. Nevertheless, invariably, Chimanikire had to stamp his authority to keep the overzealous among us in check.
As we were packing our bags at the close of the day’s work, we could not avoid extending talk on some pertinent issues. Notably, we ended up resolving that naming of the unfolding political process had to come from the group.
As such, each member was called upon to craft such, and bring it up for possible consideration the following day. But we did not discuss how we were going to proceed on the matter since this was outside the scope of our original mandate.
Yet, undeniably, we left the Women’s Bureau venue in competitive spirits.
I was seized with the name coining challenge as I drove home later that day. Related details of this endeavor are contained in the book: ‘A Travesty of Democracy’, which I published in 2010. (It is an indictment on shortcomings of the ZCTU facilitated democratization of Zimbabwe’s politics)
We did not meet as a committee the following morning, but members attended a plenary session which had nearly 100 participants. Having disposed of issues raised in thematic reports, chairperson on the final day, Tsvangirai, called for contributions from the floor towards crafting an identity for the unfolding process
Several futile attempts. Undeterred, the facilitator kept asking for better and more appropriate christening, at which I rose to the occasion, without any hesitation.
Tsvangirai did not even wait for a secondment, as he spontaneously endorsed my coinage.
The adoption was effectively sealed, without any alteration whatsoever to what I had spelt out in my humble submission. Indeed, there was never an addition or subtraction to the original proposition, contrary to wishful endeavors which ironically surfaced in the post 2010 era, all of which have, however, failed to last the test of time.
Interestingly, amid a momentary silence which enveloped the historic public coinage in the immediate aftermath, my eye caught a shift in stance several metres to my left. Kwinjeh, unexpectedly, pulled a face at me. Reciprocally, I chuckled, mirthlessly.
Months later, an official citation by the ZCTU was published, and distributed to individuals and organizations that had taken part in its convention meetings. “That this process commencing from the post-convention, 7-9 May, 1999, be known as the Movement for Democratic Change… Thanks to David Muzhuzha, Editor of The Worker newspaper, who proposed this name, Movement for Democratic Change.”
To this day, this labour centre acknowledgement has remained not only simple and clear, but a correct and sustainable recollection of fact.
Little wonder why the acknowledgment did not trigger any form of controversy for more than a decade, until the serene past of a World Cup soccer tourney staged in South Africa.
Far from the green football turf on which the ultimate coveted international honor in football was contested, a man approached the then South Africa Football Association seeking recognition and compensation for having coined the nickname ‘Bafana Bafana’ for that country’s senior soccer team. Initially badly handled by SAFA, the matter was subsequently resolved amicably, to the satisfaction of both parties.
Just for a mere nickname! Well, not only was I truly impressed, but I was thoroughly inspired. As I testified three years later before High Court judge Joseph Mafusire, for the first time since May 9th of 1999, I saw real commercial value in my singular coinage of the brand name Movement for Democratic Change.
Since I had long stopped involving myself in political matters in 2000, there was no stopping me from seeking a measure of recognizable respect from two distinct formations using the brand MDC at the time – Tsvangirai’s party and the other one led by Arthur Mutambara. Both entities were part of a government of national unity in Zimbabwe.
Contrary to some opinion, at no stage, whatsoever, did I approach any court of law for determination on my short-lived pursuit for possible compensation along the precedent set in South Africa. Yet an inference was made to this incorrect appreciation in a High Court ruling against me when I later sued Harvest House for defamation on different matters.
Represented by lawyer Joel Mambara, however, we only sought consideration of our claims by both MDC-T and MDC-N, but to no avail. We did not approach Job Sikhala’s MDC99 since the outfit not only appeared a one-man band, but it was of no recognisable fixed abode.
On July 19, 2010, we wrote to secretary generals of the respective parties as we regarded all related matters as administrative.
While Welshman Ncube acknowledged receipt of our missive, the MDC-N formation never came back to us with a tangible response.
But Ncube, who was leader of the NCA team at the ZCTU conventions, later told The Financial Gazette categorically that although Kwinjeh had been part of his troops, she had not coined the brand name MDC.
Ncube was also a cabinet minister in the Industry and Commerce portfolio at the time we sought recognition by entities which were using the MDC brand identity. His counterpart at Tsvangirai’s formation, Tendai Biti, was responsible for the national purse.
Biti’s party responded to our inquiry on July 29, 2011.
They scornfully dismissed our claims: “For the record, David Muzhuzha did not coin the name Movement for Democratic Change nor was he involved in any manner in the formation of the MDC.
“…(his claim) is self-serving mendacious glorification that is insulting.”
The offensive missive, signed by erstwhile party director-general, Toendepi Shonhe, then went on to undress Mambara’s professionalism as well as dismiss my effort as bordering on “heretical” claims. Mambara described the letter from Biti’s team as a “base” response from an office ordinarily perceived as an “esteemed” authority.
Instructively, the response from Harvest House did not reveal how my claims were “insulting” of them. But, it had footprints of erstwhile formative stage cadres who had never learned how to forgive me over my perceived role in the pre-convention departure from the NCA initiative.
Also, conspicuously, Biti’s department did not name anyone within the MDC rank and file, including Grace Kwinjeh or Learnmore Jongwe, as having crafted the party’s identity.
The party, which at the time boasted of being an epitome of political “excellence” in Zimbabwe, only began ascribing the Kwinjeh identity to its naming at its 12th anniversary commemorations held in Highfields, Harare following publication of my displeasure at their dismissive attitude towards my person and claims.
Even if one were to describe the accolade which they handed Kwinjeh before a reported massive physical audience of 20 000 as an afterthought, its incorrectness was not only deliberate, but timed to undermine my integrity and authenticity, more so given that I had just published ‘A Travesty of Democracy’ book featuring a previously untold account of the MDC’s formative process.
The book was published when the opposition party was at its historical peak, which was buttressed by an officially certified victory of the party’s candidate in the first round of a tightly contested presidential poll, as well as a record gain in parliamentary representation. Undeniably, no other house of assembly election has produced a hung parliament in the combined history of Rhodesia and Zimbabwe.
The sequence of events, particularly following publication of my satire, as I was not within reach of their party disciplinary tentacles since I was not a member of the organisation, point to a conspiracy within the then MDC leadership to peddle a fallacy which they themselves, obviously, could not believe. The related public inconsistencies were so telling.
While the fallacious Kwinjeh award received muted reception among many knowledgeable ones seated in the VIP platform, the implications of this calculated falsehood were sadly lost on the multitude of gullible ones packed at Gwanzura Stadium, and beyond.
Predictably, even the international news media, particularly in Western nations, fed on it, line, hook and sinker. Kwinjeh was even quoted by British news outlet SW Africa masquerading as a unique coiner of the party’s identity. She did not, instructively, mention anything to do with Jongwe when she described how she had dreamt up the party name tag.
In her own words, Kwinjeh uttered: “We discussed many options, but I remember specifically explaining that we’re a movement that is demanding change through the ballot box… I explained the concept, putting into context the definition of the name of a people’s movement that would not only take Zimbabweans by storm, but Africa and the world too. That’s how the name MDC was born.”
At the time, notably, Kwinjeh was based in Brussels, Belgium as the party’s chief representative. The influential parliament of the European Union is housed in the Belgian capital.
But the honor she received in Highfields was an unprecedented unethical point in Zimbabwe’s democracy history. A complete disgrace.
Although party leader Tsvangirai was given an accolade ostensibly for bravery and distinguished leadership, this failed to merit any meaningful news coverage, both within and beyond Zimbabwe’s borders.
Dousing a furore which had erupted in labour circles after the rituals in Highfields, then party information and publicity secretary, Douglas Mwonzora told Financial Gazette weekly that Kwinjeh had only refined a Learnmore Jongwe name suggestion.
“In fact, Learnmore Jongwe came up with the name Democratic Movement for Change. It was Kwinjeh who refined it to Movement for Democratic Change,” he said.
But, noticeably, the late Jongwe was never accorded a related posthumous honor. Mwonzora had been co-chairperson of an influential Constitutional Parliamentary Select Committee.
A month following the related events at Gwanzura Stadium on September 12, 2011, the country’s then prime minister, Morgan Tsvangirai, launched his political memoirs at the time: Morgan Tsvangirai – At The Deep End. This despite that he had only been in office for barely two years, and with not much to write home about his highest ever accomplishment.
But, among other aspects of Tsvangirai’s notable experiences, the book, published by internationally renowned Penguin Books, contained a considerable amount of information on his involvement with the ZCTU and the MDC.
My former colleagues at the labour centre were given due attention. Unsurprisingly, nonetheless, my name and role, either at Chester House or in the MDC formative stages, never made it into the massive book’s glossy pages.
Tsvangirai, whom I had worked with closely at the labour centre for nearly six years, also found it appropriate in his book to laud an ex-soldier, Tichawona Mudzingwa, for coming up with the MDC open hand symbol and a Masvingo villager, Enerst Mudavanhu, for crafting his party’s slogan – ‘Chinja Maitiro’.
Yet, when it came to coinage of the MDC brand identity, Kwinjeh’s name was not in the picture of the protagonist’s published memoirs.
“Naming a political party can be tricky business…The name of our political party,” wrote Tsvangirai, “was decided on 7 May, 1999, some months after the conventions.
“…What should we call ourselves? Could it be called Labour Party? That would alienate other civic organisations.
“Although the ZCTU was facilitating the process, we wanted an all-embracing, inclusive movement as dictated by the conventions. After hours of debate, we narrowed the exercise to specific words that conveyed the intentions of the alliance.
“Eventually, we arrived at the Movement for Democratic Change – the MDC. We looked at it and agreed that it summed up what the people wished to see. That was it, the MDC.”
I last had a purposeful engagement with Tsvangirai in Finland’s capital, Helsinki, in 2000 in the aftermath of the MDC’s inaugural congress. It was his maiden overseas tour as MDC president. The tour of duty took him and an aide, Gandhi Mudzingwa, to Finland, Norway, Sweden and Britain.
Finnish trade union centre SASK, who at the time were co-funders of The Worker’s operations, had requested me to facilitate the visit since Tsvangirai had already resigned from the ZCTU to work full-time at the MDC offices located at the Eastgate complex in Harare.
Fast forward to court processes at the High Court: at the penultimate pre-trial stage, and far from the captive crowd at Gwanzura Stadium, the MDC quietly stripped Kwinjeh of the honor which they had publicly bestowed on her. The party, furthermore, did not even include her on its team list which was supposed to testify in support of Kwinjeh’s ascribed coinage of its name tag.
Faced with the prospective of defending its shenanigans under oath, the party submitted papers before Justice Andrew Mutema indicating that the long deceased Jongwe, instead of Kwinjeh, had actually coined the brand name MDC after he had supposedly refined DMC which the former had proposed. Even more, she was not even on the list of witnesses to attend the trial which was submitted at the court by the party.
Jongwe died in prison in October 2002, and was succeeded by Chamisa as MP for Kuwadzana constituency.
Listed as the then MDC-T’s chief witness in this scandalous reversal was then party organizing secretary Chamisa, who at the time had also become a cabinet minister responsible for Information Technology.
“Nelson Chamisa,” the party’s lawyers informed the High Court, “will state that he was present at a meeting held between 17 and 19 February 1999 at the Women’s Bureau. Also present were many others, including Tendai Biti, Welshman Ncube, Dennis Murira, Grace Kwinjeh and Learnmore Jongwe.
“Amongst other items, the meeting had to decide on a name for a political party to be formed.
“Grace Kwinjeh suggested the Democratic Movement for Change and Jongwe suggested changing the word order to Movement for Democratic Change.”
Erstwhile party kingpin on economics, Eddie Cross, had earlier submitted an article to the Zimbabwe Independent weekly in which he opined that Kwinjeh had coined the party name at a small political function in Harare, far away from red labor’s published process. Cross, like Mwonzora and Shonhe, are not founders of the original MDC.
It is an undisputable public record that the ZCTU convention was held at the Women’s Bureau from February 26 to 28, 1999, while the post-convention meeting took place a few months later at the same venue May 7-9. During the conventions, the ZCTU team was led by Tsvangirai, while Ncube was captain of the then NCA camp, which included Chamisa, Biti, Kwinjeh and Jongwe.
Curiously, though, now deceased Dennis Murira was the other listed MDC court witness. He had been an assistant in a two-men manned ZCTU Advocay department which had in March 2000 published a book on the formation of the MDC. At the inception of the government of national unity in 2009 Murira was upgraded from the party vanguard to principal directorship within the prime minister’s office.
I am no lawyer, so I will not attempt to consider why the judgement against my claims on defamation by Tsvangirai’s party and officials was devoid of any single finding in my favour, but a myriad of questionable claims against my lament on injustice.
I will not even dare probe what could have delighted his Lordship in quoting nameless and faceless critics who vented unbridled anger at my person and claims on social media.
I will, nonetheless, regard it odd that there was no mention, whatsoever, of the important afore-cited 1999 ZCTU citation on the brand name MDC coinage in Justice Mafusire’s entire 24-page judgement. Credible related news reportage in The Herald and Financial Gazette were also palpably ignored.
With an undisputable readership of two million at the time, The Herald broke the story on the MDC’s “base” response to my naming claims, but the ruling against me cites a version of the original which was published by lesser influential Southern Eye.
Without offering any shred of evidence, the latter publication alleged that Information minister at the time, ZANU PF’s Jonathan Moyo had “commissioned” publication of my story by The Herald. Obviously not amused with my claims over the MDC name coinage, the newspaper even strangely described me as an “eccentric” person.
While I have met Moyo only twice, and briefly, in my professional life, I am certain mine remains an unrecognizable footprint in the political scientist’s sphere of things.
The first instance occurred in 1993 when I covered for The Financial Gazette his launch at SAPES in Harare’s leafy Belgravia suburb of a book on constitutionalism.
At the function, the then tall and pencil-slim Moyo gave me an autographed copy for onward delivery to my editor Trevor Ncube. “Let’s publish ours”, he had quickly inscribed.
Despite finding it interesting, I never bothered to ask him or my mentor at Modus Publications what was implied by those three words.
My only other encounter with the professor was at yet another constitutional affairs gathering, though this time on the well-manicured lawn at State House, when a state-appointed assembly officially handed over its work to then President Robert Mugabe. He was dressed in a dark suit and matching black shoes, actually better groomed than before and reflecting considerable weight gain.
As face of the controversial government initiative, Moyo was in the middle of a storm over both administrative and political matters pitting him and others against an unrelenting faction fronted by the now deceased legal and political guru Edison Zvobgo.
Unsurprisingly, I found him too engrossed with related matters to warrant a meaningful conversation with me. So, after exchanging lukewarm greetings, I left him in the company of then labour minister July Moyo.
Still within earshot, meanwhile, I overheard the latter urging his embattled colleague not to succumb to the pressure around him. “In politics, as long as you’re not fired, you don’t give up. You just hang on.”
Yet, despite the foregoing background to the Movement for Democratic Change brand crafting, in late 2013 Justice Mafusire ruled: “The defendants, in their application for absolution, have made a frontal attack on the quality of the plaintiff’s evidence and have urged me to disregard it as unreliable…
“My task is not to determine who between the plaintiff and Grace Kwinjeh coined the name Movement for Democratic Change.
“But even if I were to assume that the defendants knew that the plaintiff was laying claim to the name, I would still not find anything said by the second defendant that would be said to be defamatory of the plaintiff in any sense.
“The defendants would still have been entitled to rebut plaintiff’s claim if they believed Grace Kwinjeh, and not him, had conceived the original name which Learnmore Jongwe had allegedly subsequently refined. There would be nothing defamatory in that.” (HC 12099/11; HH 472-13).
With all due respect, over the years since the High Court ruling, I have tried but failed to understand how a matter with a formal, clear and correctly documented public record can arbitrarily be relegated to conjecture and dubious spheres of “assumptions”, “beliefs” and “allegations”.
In fact, what further boggles the mind is the pattern of errors in the court ruling on matters which were clearly presented before it, some of which were already in the public domain.
For instance, its public knowledge that Tsvangirai launched his book in South Africa in October 2011. Yet the judge put it differently: “In August 2010 Mr. Tsvangirai launched his own book…The book credited no specific individual for the name Movement for Democratic Change”.
This could not have been a typographical mistake since his Lordship went on to state that Kwinjeh had granted an interview to SW Africa “a year later, i.e. on September 13, 2011,” after Tsvangirai’s book function.
Notably, however, putting Tsvangirai’s book launch at “August 2010” had the effect of absolving the then MDC president of the harmful impact of his party’s conspiracy against me. Such a judiciary error diluted Tsvangirai’s culpability in the disgrace emanating from the Kwinjeh ritual.
In the courtroom, I also informed the honorable judge that my own book, ‘A Travesty of Democracy’, had been distributed by renowned local bookstores Innov8, Baroda Books and the National Art Gallery. Actually, the judge himself did ask me to repeat the names of the bookstores.
Yet what came out in his ruling reflected something else: “Regarding his book, the plaintiff had been the author, the editor, the publisher and he was also marketing it himself.”
The book title was erroneously inscribed. “In May 2011,” wrote the judge, “plaintiff published a book. It was titled ‘Travesty of Democracy – Defining Moments'”.
Bold newspaper headlines such as ‘Insider opens MDC can of worms’ which accompanied a review of my book carried in The Herald on May 16, 2011 and ‘Furore over MDC name honor’ for a November 10, 2011 article published by The Financial Gazette, were erroneously categorized as “by-line” and “bye-line” respectively.
Harvest House, meanwhile, in controversial manner, Mwonzora has leapt to party presidency, and has kept much of the original political name, as well as the red labor color. But an imposing poster of himself on the wall of the party headquarters has dwarfed what remains of Tsvangirai’s picture into increasing paleness.
Thokozani Khupe has retreated back to her Bulawayo political laager, signaling yet another labour chunk off Zimbabwe’s mainstream opposition politics. Though as party secretary general and treasurer respectively, Khupe’s former trade union colleagues Paurina Mpariwa and Tapiwa Mashakada have ensured some semblance of continued labour presence.
At Chamisa’s Citizens Convergence for Change (CCC), however, labour has been effectively bowled out as there is no longer anything within that camp representative of the labour movement. The universal red color has been thoroughly wiped off, while a few remnants of Tsvangirai’s close union lieutenants like ex-parliamentarians Blessing Chebundo and James Makore have trekked “back home” to Zanu PF.
In fact, the CCC’s standing committee resembles a law firm, given a glaring dominance of its corridors of power by lawyers. Chamisa himself is a lawyer, and the same definition goes for his deputies Biti and Ncube. Sikhala is also an attorney and so is treasurer David Coltart, party spokesperson Fadzayi Mahere and embattled Harare mayoral aspirant Jacob Mafume.
The ‘Wezhira’ tribal syndrome is now more entrenched than during Tsvangirai’s reign, further vindicating my initial reservations on this affliction which are contained in the book: ‘A Travesty of Democracy’.
No wonder, therefore, that those who saw nothing wrong with denigrating my name and endeavors on behalf of labour, found little, if any, amiss in deleting completely the all-important word: “Democratic” from their newly baptized party.
That, indeed, could be telling on why many stakeholders in the party cast a blind eye on the self-inflicted scandal arising out of a deeply flawed lust for Tsvangirai’s vacant throne, despite its serious implications on Zimbabwe’s democracy path.
Consequently, as I now rest my case and recline into the realm of irrelevancy, I do so with complete satisfaction that what I humbly crafted in 1999 at the Women’s Bureau Centre did set mainstream opposition distinctly apart from its competition. The coinage was never, and will never be toxic.
On the contrary, my innocent input has run its course well, in stubborn defiance to democracy charlatans bent on aiming square pegs at round holes.