The ManicaPost
Freedom Mutanda and Sifelani Tonje Post correspondents—
During the liberation war in Zimbabwe, young boys and girls provided intelligence to the guerrillas on anything. These collaborators are commonly called ‘‘chimbwidos’’ and ‘‘mujibhas.’’ Their work was priceless; thus, the ocean and fish theory by Mao Ze Dong comes in handy to explain the intertwining notion of the people and the military cadres in a revolutionary war. You can’t place either of the two at the apex of the liberation matrix.
This past week, Sifelani Tonje and I visited Sekai Mubhikwa Mushowe at Masimbe so that she could to tell us about her journey in the dug outs of the Chimurenga. She went with us down memory lane but for now, we will give you our readers a chance to air out your views on the column.
Cde Chama Chama Pinduzi said, ‘‘it was painful…it was more than an article. I nearly broke into tears.’’ We merely present the information as the comrade would have told us.
Samuel Siwela phoned us and expressed regret that he could not access last week’s Manica Post, ‘’I didn’t get last week’s Post. That means I missed your column.’’
Nigel Nhambirwa had this to say, “happy new year Mr Mutanda. Thank you for the great efforts you have made so far in unearthing our history. Without leaving out Mr Tonje, you guys make a great team. Hope you will continue in the same vein delivering more of these stories. Thank you!’’
We are truly humbled Nigel. We will continue to unearth the nuggets of our great country’s history in 2017.
Terrence Mwedzi is another regular reader who said,’’ Mamina massacre: What a sad tale! …surely, this country has a sad history. Your story is fully baked. Hanzi, ‘‘the helicopters performed a war dance above the people’s heads.’’ I greatly support your column…’’
The liberation war was not for the faint-hearted!
Henery Mugadza had this to say about our column, ‘’if we keep writing about the past war not forecasting about the future, I see another war coming. Cdes let’s talk about the present elimination of corruption.’’
We agree with you fully. Corruption is a cancer which all right thinking Zimbabweans wish dispensed away with forthwith. Our column is about the ideals of the liberation struggle and the suffering that visited anyone who was involved; therefore, the elimination of corruption is a number one priority for all revolutionaries. Thank you Henery; I believe one of these days, the column will zero in on ways of crushing corruption.
…and now to our unsung heroine of the week! Sekai Mubhikwa Mushowe was born in 1963. Because the girl child was looked upon as a lesser citizen, she went to school at 9 in 1972. Let’s hear her story.
My family stayed at Nerutanga village in Buhera. We used to fetch water from Chidzikisa River and while there, we would swim disregarding the presence of boys. We were innocent children minding our own business.
War came to our village when we were young but we saw the differences between the settler soldiers and the comrades. Whereas comrades were polite, soldiers were rude.
In October 1977, soldiers came and randomly picked us up to go to Buhera office. Buhera office covers the Garamweya and Chigudu areas. They kicked us in the ribs and force marched us asking, ‘‘gandanga unoriziva?’’
The previous day, a pungwe had been held at our village. Together with other girls, we spent five days in the cells; gnats made a meal out of us. Squashing them was a vain activity. My uncle, Kudakwashe Govere, nearly died from the beatings. We heard the thuds of bare knuckles against his face and body. We winced as he bellowed like a bull. He was turned to pulp. One soldier head butted him which resulted in a swollen eye. He survived.
I had become a chimbwido after the comrades established the Cheshumba base in the midst of the mountain. There were caves in the mountains, the fortress was a no-go area for the regime fighters. Our job as chimbwidos was to network with our parents for the guerrillas to get cigarettes, sugar, tea leaves, clothes and shoes. Just before dusk, we would stealthily pick our way to the rendezvous and there, we would be exposed to slogans.
Some comrades that saw duty in our area are Mabhunu Muchapera, Tafirenyika, Simukai Tivapedze, Deluxe Morari and Ndafa. These comrades attacked Buhera Office and pushed us to Lancashire — Enkeldoorn because the comrades did not want a protected village to be established at Nerutanga.
Buhera office attack
The boys attacked Buhera torture camp. They hurled grenades into the camp where the enemy lay in wait. Before the soldiers could position themselves, the guerrillas fired from all angles. Suddenly, the night was transformed into day as soldiers released search lights for visibility. Guns blazed and bullets lit up the night.
Quietness came all of a sudden. Guerrillas melted with the night. In the morning, helicopters shot into view, they hovered over the village menacingly. We were cowed into submission as the comrades had gone and as vulnerable members of the community, we waited for our fate to unravel.
Our boys had retreated to Lancashire-Enkeldoorn for strategic reasons. They moved to Mwerahari to avoid detection as the soldiers were in hot pursuit. In the mean time, soldiers continued their offensive against unarmed civilians.
Chigavakava ambush
It was too hot for anyone to feel comfortable. Soldiers moved to Madendembure, Mwerahari and Chifamba villages sjamboking villagers. Comrades remained aloof as if they had been beaten. They allowed soldiers to get into their comfort zones. Sipiwe and Letwin Chipaduri were my fellow chimbwidos. We relayed information about soldiers’ movements.
I was appalled to see other blacks in the settler army. Were they enemies? I later found out that some of them were victims of the vicious call up or conscription orchestrated by the regime.
In October/ November 1978, the comrades lay an ambush at Chigavakava. There was a convoy as pumas appeared. The first vehicle hit a landmine. A loud deafening sound disturbed the peaceful atmosphere, the vehicle flew into the air and that alarmed the other drivers who were following closely, they flew into a panic mode. They applied emergency brakes, a pile up of vehicles ensued. Two pumas attempted to escape but unfortunately, the sides of the roads were mined and they too were blown by the mines.
It was precisely at that time, that the comrades emerged from the bushes. They picked targets as soldiers ran for dear life. Smoke cleared and a ghastly sight awaited us. Bodies were strewn around. There was this dead white soldier who was heavily bearded and his hairy arm masked a Rolex watch. In the melee, other regime soldiers had escaped.
We knew a revenge mission was on its way thus we bade farewell to our parents. Hardly had we crossed Chadzikisa River did we hear the gruff voices of soldiers-the Rhodesian infantry. My two friends and I ran the race of our young lives. The soldiers shot at us. Unbelievably, we were not hit and we managed to get to Mugwara village where we found the guerrillas helping peasants in the fields.
‘’Soldiers are chasing us!’’ We called out. Suddenly, mist came and that allowed us to go to Madendembure near St Joseph’s.
Torture at Garamweya
I was 15 years old now and going to school and being a collaborator made my blood tinge with excitement but the winter of 1978 made me revise my priorities only for a brief moment.
There was a contact at Garamweya where two soldiers were shot and killed. As the soldiers retreated, they captured us.
We arrived at their camp and that’s when the torture began. They burned plastic and poured the hot liquid onto one of the girls’ thighs. She cried and begged them to shoot her. They laughed like beasts. Another girl had hot plastic poured over her genitalia. She cried and the answer she got was laughter, gruesome laughter.
The torture did not end there. Soldiers poured hot plastic onto their faces, mouths and ears. Their cries went on to become a whimper and then silence. The two girls had died. We wept uncontrollably at the callous murder and we knew we were next.
The murder was laid out publicly. It was meant to instil fear into us. The fact that they never bothered to follow the guerrillas although they knew where they were domiciled-Cheshumba mountain-irritated me and the other collaborators and I vowed to continue supporting the liberation struggle.
We were released and we went home still in a defiant mood because we wanted revenge on those comrades who had died in defence of their country.
At Gwirambira, a comrade was killed just as the ceasefire agreement was about to take effect. We heard they had reached an agreement. Our comrades went to Ruti Dam/ Dzapasi assembly point and we accompanied them singing in merriment at the dawn of a new era.
We returned to our homes but I later married Cde Deluxe Morari who went on to join the ZNA. I had finished Grade 7 but did not continue with education. However, after I underwent a cutting and designing course, I became a qualified tailor. We came back to Masimbe in Chipinge after my husband retired from the army.
Images of those girls burnt by the regime forces still visit my subconscious mind. They did not die in vain. Therefore, we can never forget them in our collective memory.
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