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Violence mars Mbare Copac hearings

http://www.dailynews.co.zw/

By Guthrie Munyuki
Sunday, 19 September 2010 16:26

HARARE - FIVE officials from the main faction of the Movement for Democratic
Change (MDC) were seriously injured and scores arrested when marauding Zanu
PF supporters swamped Mai Musodzi Hall in Mbare, Sunday, and unleashed an
orgy violence during a constitutional outreach meeting.

The incident came barely a day after the commencement of the outreach
programme in Harare was overshadowed by intimidation and sporadic scenes of
violence in and around the capital.

Piniel Denga, legislator for Mbare constituency told the Daily News that the
MDC supporters had gathered at Mai Musodzi Hall as early as 8am in
anticipation of expressing their views to the Constitutional Parliamentary
Committee (COPAC) teams that were in the area.

"As with any huge gathering, our supporters were discussing issues they felt
should be addressed by the new constitution," said Denga. " Zanu PF
supporters who were also present and those who later joined others in the
hall, did not take this lightly.

"They realised they were outnumbered and resorted to intimidation and later
violence using screwdrivers and logs. Five officials including the MDC vice-
chairman for Mbare District and branch executives have been seriously
injured."

He said the five had been taken to the Avenues Clinic where doctors were
treating them for the injuries and trauma sustained during the debacle.

Police spokesman Wayne Bvudzijena could not be reached for comment as his
mobile phone was unreachable, but Denga expressed his disappointment for
what he termed the "selective application of the law".

"Our supporters were beaten up and ended as the culprits. Nine supporters
have been arrested for causing the violence yet it us who are the victims of
Zanu PF brutality.

"Given the seriousness of the incident, we had expected Police to beef up
security, but they only sent one truck with Police details who quickly
arrested our supporters," fumed Denga.

In a statement, the MDC deplored the acts of violence and the chaos which
marked the beginning of the outreach programme in Harare.

Both Harare and Bulawayo had been deliberately slated for the last slot when
the process to gather views to be included in the new constitution started
on June 23.

"It is common cause that the people of Harare and surrounding towns form the
base of the MDC," the statement said. "The attempt to frustrate the process
in these areas is a calculated move to dampen the people's spirit and to
sabotage their will to take part in that important exercise.

"The MDC wishes to reiterate that nothing shall stop the people of Zimbabwe
from writing their own Constitution. What is happening reflect the last
kicks of a dying horse."

The MDC said Zimbabwe's roadmap to legitimacy was a product of  11 years of
unbroken victories in the people's struggle for a new, post-colonial
dispensation designed to see the extension of freedom and democracy in all
its facets.

It therefore, could not be stopped by random acts of hired Zanu PF parrots.

"As for Zanu PF, the people know that the party is shooting itself in the
foot through its backward mentality of trying to hoodwink and to drive the
people into inertia after realising that it would be impossible to force
them to read and play megaphone to their tired script. The people of Harare
and Chitungwiza know that Zanu PF wants to remain in the past of being ever
in a war mode when progressive parties such as the MDC are working hard to
improve the lives of the citizens," said the MDC.

The constitutional outreach programme has been dogged by bickering on
funding, violence, intimidation and a split by civic groups who were opposed
to the process.

Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai's longtime allies - the National
Constitutional Assembly (NCA), the Zimbabwe National Students Union (Zinasu)
and the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU) - differed sharply with the
MDC over its decision to participate in the current constitutional making
process.

They argued that by joining Zanu PF and the smaller faction of the MDC,
Tsvangirai was departing from the sacrilegiously held principle of letting
the people decide not the politicians.

The NCA has said the current process is politically-driven, and not
people-driven.


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Air Zimbabwe wants two new Airbus planes: state media



(AFP) - 7 hours ago

HARARE - Air Zimbabwe, whose pilots have been on strike for 12 days, wants
to buy two Airbus A340 planes for about 400 million dollars, state media
said Sunday.

"The country is expected to take delivery of the aircraft soon and
operational modalities have already been completed," said the government
mouthpiece Sunday Mail, quoting an unnamed source.

"Staff, including engineering experts that had been sent for training in
Germany, is now returning, but it should be noted that Airbus is prepared to
send some of the crew to be attached to the planes for a two-year period,"
it said.

The paper said the plans would cost a total of 400 million dollars, but Air
Zimbabwe chairman Jonathan Kadzura said he was not aware of the order.

"I have also heard about it, but to be frank, I am not aware of it," Kadzura
told the paper.

But the report was likely to inflame tensions with the embattled airline's
pilots, who went on strike on September 8 saying they have not been paid
their full salaries.

The airline currently flies two Boeing B767-200s, three B737-200s and three
Chinese Xian MA 60 turboprops.


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Tsvangirai skating on thin ice: analsysts

http://www.thezimbabwean.co.uk

Written by Vusimuzi Bhebhe
Saturday, 18 September 2010 13:23

HARARE - Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai  is skating on thin ice after he
apparently accepted assurances from President Robert Mugabe that he will
handover power should he lose elections - as is widely expected - next year,
analysts have said.
The analysts questioned Tsvangirai's sense of judgment after the Premier
made a number of pronouncements over the past week that have left even the
staunchest of his supporters questioning the ability of the MDC-T leader to
wade through Zimbabwe's booby-trapped political landscape without
compromising the struggle for democracy.
The Prime Minister shocked many when he announced that he had reached a
gentleman's agreement with long-time rival President Robert Mugabe under
which they agreed to hold elections next year and - more interestingly -
they concurred that the losing presidential candidate would not contest the
outcome.
In another surprise move, the MDC-T leader hinted of a possible future pact
guaranteeing security chiefs immunity from prosecution for political crimes
committed in the past as a way to secure their support for a future
non-Mugabe-led government.
"There are mechanisms to make sure that they are assured of the future. We
are (not) oblivious to the fact that armed forces are a pillar of the state
and have to be given assurance about the future," the Premier told a summit
on the future of Zimbabwe which was organised by the London-based magazine,
The Economist.
Talk of a possible amnesty for army generals who masterminded bloody clashes
ahead of Zimbabwe's presidential run-off in 2008 drew a lot of criticism
from ordinary Zimbabweans who said the service chiefs and other members of
Mugabe's Zanu (PF) must be made to face justice for their actions. "At the
end of the day, the decision on any amnesty for violence
perpetrators is not something that can be made by Tsvangirai, Mugabe and
(Deputy Prime Minister Arthur) Mutambara over a cup of tea in some office
somewhere. Tsvangirai, for instance, will have to first seek the mandate of
(MDC-T) party members before agreeing to any such deal," said Harare
resident Tichafa Zigora who said he lost relatives during ahead of the June
2008 run-off.
Zigora warned that Tsvangirai would betray the struggle for democracy if he
unilaterally agrees to an amnesty without consulting ordinary MDC-T
supporters who bore the brunt of Zanu (PF)'s violence campaign. "There are,
in fact, no guarantees that Mugabe and his service chiefs will indeed
withdraw from political activities once they are granted
the amnesty," added Sheila Kufa, a Harare vegetable vendor.
The same sentiments were echoed by respected political analyst John Makumbe
who said Tsvangirai's biggest challenge would be how to ensure the amnesty
process is "fool-proof". "It is possible to grant the service chiefs amnesty
but the process will not be fool-proof because even if they are granted
amnesty, the generals will still be vulnerable to civil suits from those
affected by the political violence," Makumbe said. The threat of civil suits
would force the generals to cling to power to avoid prosecution.
The security chiefs are Mugabe's staunchest allies and are credited with
keeping the President in power after waging a ruthless campaign of violence
in 2008 to force then opposition leader Tsvangirai to withdraw from a second
round presidential poll that analysts had strongly tipped the former trade
unionist to win. Tsvangirai had beaten Mugabe in the first round ballot but
failed to achieve outright victory to avoid the second round run-off poll.
The security chiefs have previously vowed to never salute a president who
did not take part in Zimbabwe's 1970s liberation struggle, in what was seen
as a clear warning they would topple any government led by Tsvangirai who
did not take part in the independence war.


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ZBC bosses blow US$100 000 on trip

http://www.dailynews.co.zw

By Staff Reporter
Sunday, 19 September 2010 17:29

HARARE - A storm is brewing at the scandal-ridden Zimbabwe Broadcasting
Corporation (ZBC) after senior managers hijacked a trip Mozambique meant for
junior journalists, and paid themselves nearly US$100 000 in subsistence
allowances, as the spending spree at the corporation rages on.

General manager (News and Current Affairs) Tazzen Mandizvidza,  general
manager (Finance and Administration) Elliot Kasu and the current affairs
manager, Clifford Mfiri, as well as a cameraman, are in Mazambique for the
past two weeks purportedly working on a 30-minute liberation struggle
documentary.

Highly-placed sources at the cash-strapped state broadcaster told the Daily
News that the three managers demanded at least $25 000 each from the
cash-strapped ZBC claiming they would use it to cover fuel, accommodation
and entertainment allowances for their two weeks stay in Mozambique.

"It's a free-for-all for top ZBC managers who seem to be competing to loot
company funds and other resources," said an official in the administration
and human resources department.

"This trip to Mozambique was organised by these managers in order to
fundraise and pocket company money.  There is no good corporate governance
and accountability at ZBC. The ministry of media and information is just
watching while the company is being milked. ZBC is littered with corruption
and mismanagement."

He said approved Cabinet rates in travel and subsistence allowances for a
trip to Mozambique are US$200 per day, meaning that each of the managers was
supposed to get around US$2 000 for the two week trip, instead of the over
US$25 000 each pocketed.

A senior producer in the Production department questioned why two general
managers and another senior manager would go on expensive production trips,
yet there were producers employed for such assignments.

"How can three senior managers go on a two-week foreign trip to shoot a 30
minute documentary? We have several producers and reporters who can do the
job in just one day, but because there is money involved such assignments
are hijacked," said the senior producer.

He said the Mozambique documentary was just meant to impress Zanu PF in
order to safeguard the managers' jobs following the recent unearthing of
allegations of massive corruption and looting by top officials.

The ZBC insider said it was surprising that the state broadcaster would
spend a lot of money on a Zanu PF campaign documentary, yet management last
month refused to increase the salaries of poorly-paid workers.

Contacted for comment, ZBC spokesperson Sivukile Simango, refused to divulge
details of the trip.

"I am sorry, I am not going to tell you how much they were paid. Why do you
want to know? Do we ever ask you how much you are paid when you go on
foreign trips," he said before switching off his phone.

Recently, ZBC workers appealed for the intervention of the three principals
of the inclusive government to save the corporation from collapse, alleging
that top managers were milking the company.

Senior managers recently squandered millions of dollars in top- of-the-range
and luxurious vehicles which include a Mercedes Benz S350 for chief
executive officer, Happison Muchechetere, and Toyota Landcruisers for his
three general managers.


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Operation Murambatsvina- victims still crying for a decent living

http://www.thezimbabwean.co.uk

Written by Tony Saxon
Sunday, 19 September 2010 10:34

MUTARE - Beneficiaries of the Garikai/Hlalani Kuhle (Live Well) here say
they are still to experience decent living, five years after the horrific
Operation Murambatsvina that left them homeless.

In 2005, the Zanu (PF) government carried out a clean-up exercise that saw
the destruction of illegal structures in the high density suburbs of various
Zimbabwean cities. Everyone was made to be accountable for his or her
unplanned structure.
In order to compensate victims of this operation condemned by the
international community as 'inhumane", the President Robert Mugabe
government embarked on Operation Garikai/Hlalani Kuhle  housing scheme.
But residents of Mutare said this housing scheme reminded them of the scars
of what happened to them five years ago because their lives had not changed
for the better.
Two hundred people here were allocated the houses in March 2006. The
majority of them, known Zanu (PF) sympathisers who included war veterans and
selected civil servants aligned to the party.
The houses comprise two tiny rooms. Most live in cramped conditions because
they have large families.
In one household, visited by The Zimbabwean On Sunday, a family of six
comprising of father, mother and four children share the two rooms. The
bedroom is demarcated by a curtain with the parents sleeping on one end and
one of their children sleeping on the other. The rest of the children sleep
in the family's tiny kitchen.
"We feel that we have been thrown away," said Victor Mandikonza."They (Zanu
PF) have thrown us into hell. So what was the idea behind the establishment
of the housing scheme, as we are still living a worse off life than the one
we used to live before the operation?"
The area lacks basic services such as water and sewage systems, posing a
health hazard to the occupants who have to use the nearby bush to relieve
themselves. They also use the nearby Sakubva River to do their laundry and
to bath.
"Our major worry here is water, water, water. At times, we gather the
courage to beg for water from nearby residents in Chikanga," noted Tawanda
Chari. "Yes, at times some of them embrace our plight and allow us to have
the water but on many occasions, we are turned away."
The nearest clinic is in Sakubva, which is about 5km away. The health
authorities at the Mutare City Council health department say they receive
constant visits by the residents seeking treatment for waterborne diseases
such as cholera.
The residents are also exposed to danger of being mugged as the area does
not have a proper road network and public lighting. There have been cases of
muggings in the area especially during night time with mostly males coming
from the nearby bottle store that is about 1km, becoming major targets.
Most victims have been mugged in the bushy area near the Sakubva River.
The area has no schools, forcing children to walk to primary and secondary
schools in the nearby Sakubva high density suburb, which is about 5km from
the area.
Most parents find it difficult to pay school fees and to buy uniforms
because they are unemployed, resulting in some of the children dropping out
of school.
Several residents are unemployed youth from Zanu (PF) who were promised jobs
after embarking on massive political violence during the 2005 Presidential
elections. They survive by buying and selling goods, while most of them have
embarked on cross border trading. Others sell cellphone juice cards.
Residents use firewood and paraffin stoves for their cooking. As a result of
this, there have been rampant cases of deforestation in the area, with the
forest adjacent to the Garikai houses almost wiped out of all the trees.
"Very few of us use paraffin stoves because it is very expensive to us. A
bottle of 750ml of paraffin costs US$1 and we use it for just two days only.
As you can see there is no any firewood left in the area."
We are now relying on firewood from vendors from the villages surrounding
us," said Lynette Mamvura.
"I used to stay in Sakubva in a backyard shack and when I was told that I
will get a house at Garikai, I thought my life would change. But, I have
realised that it has gone worse," lamented Samson Madari.  "In Sakubva there
was water, toilets and electricity. But here there is nothing. I do not see
why we came here."
"If there is one lesson to be learned from the people of Garikai, it is our
ability to co-exist in spite of the squalid conditions in which we are
living in. This is not what we were promised," said Farai Mazumba another
resident.
He said they were promised good standard houses and jobs that they would
live decent lives.
"We have formed a development committee and it has been visiting the offices
at the Ministry of Public Works so that they can lay some pipes for water
and sewer reticulation, but nothing positive has come up. We have all lost
hope," added Mazumba.
The Ministry of Public Works under the previous Mugabe led government was
responsible for setting up sewer and water reticulation services at similar
housing schemes throughout the country.
The residents also approached the Mutare City council to come to their
rescue to improve the health delivery system in the area.
Mutare City Council Chamber Secretary, Gloria Muneta, confirmed there had
been requests from the residents for assistance in various meetings and
workshops.
"The whole process was a government thing. The Ministry of Public Works was
responsible for infrastructural development in that area because it was
state land, the council had nothing to do with it," she said.
The council has now set up a team involving the residents and the Ministry,
where the council is now assisting the people with technical expertise in
establishing the water and sewer reticulation pipes.
"But, there has been nothing written or formalised to let the council to
completely take over the water and reticulation services. As council we are
only giving them the technical expertise in order to improve the health
delivery system," she said.
"Our development committee is spearheading the laying of the reticulation
pipes. We are currently approaching some private partners to work out a plan
to set up the pipes. However, there are no  private partners that have come
up so far. The council is ready to work with us as it said it will provide
all the technical expertise," said Mazumba.


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Zimbabwe Gov't Representative Unwilling to Work With Maguwu

http://www.diamonds.net/

By Avi Krawitz Posted: 09/19/10 09:06

RAPAPORT... Zimbabwe's permanent secretary for the ministry of mines and
Mineral Development, Thankful Musukutwa, said he was not prepared to work
with civil society's Kimberley Process representative in the country, Farai
Maguwu, The Standard reported.

Musukutwa, who represents the government at the Kimberley Process, claimed
Maguwu had acted in a treasonous manner when he handed over a government
document to KP monitor Abbey Chikane, during a fact finding mission in May.
Maguwu was subsequently arrested and sat in jail until he was released on
bail in mid-July, after which he was appointed to represented civil society
in the Kimberley Process in the country.

"Maguwu has adopted a confrontational stance against government and as a
civil servant unless government's stance changes on that I am not prepared
to work with him as a focal person for civil society," Musukutwa reportedly
said at a two-day capacity building workshop for the Parliamentary Portfolio
Committee on Mines and Energy held at a city hotel.

Musukutwa was instrumental in drafting the working program with the
Kimberley Process which ultimately enabled Zimbabwe to start exporting rough
diamonds mined at the Marange fields. The second sale of the diamonds took
place in September in Harare.


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Zimbabwe Vigil Diary – 18th September 2010

                 

                     Mugabe on way to SA House                                          Jeered outside High Commission

 

                

     Toyi-toying from High Commission                                                Arriving back at Vigil

         

Comrade Mugabe – despite reports of ill-health – was fit enough to join our demonstration outside the South African High Commission.  But mentally he seems to have lost it, judging by the mis-spellings in the poster he was carrying: ‘SADC Final: Mugabwe 10, Zumabwe 0’. But the scornful message was clear.

 

The demonstration marked the expiry of the 30-day deadline given by SADC for the leaders of the unity government to settle the issues outstanding from the Global Political Agreement signed two years ago this month. Their contempt for Zuma and SADC in general can be seen from a statement by MDC spokesman Nelson Chamisa that neither negotiators nor principals had even had a meeting to discuss the deadline (see: http://www.theindependent.co.zw/local/27951-tsvangirai-meets-zuma-over-poll-roadmap.html).

 

Highlight of the day was supporters wearing mourning bands  toyi-toying down the Strand from South Africa House accompanied by drumming and holding banners and posters  such as ‘Mugabe betrays Southern Africa’, ‘No more Mugabe lies’, ‘Zimbabwe Coalition Kills’, ‘No returning of Zimbabwean refugees by South Africa’ and ‘Two years since sell-out agreement to form Zimbabwean unity government. Result: no rule of law, continued human rights abuses, no democracy, unemployment at 90%, no media freedom, tyrant Mugabe still in power, looting of blood diamonds’.

 

·        Thanks to Patrick Nyamwanza who took the part of Mugabe and to Josephine Zhuga and Rashiwe Bayisayi in their blood-stained tshirts (courtesy of the free ketchup pots in MacDonalds across the road).

·        We were  happy to be joined by our Swazi friend and supporter Thobile Gwebu  just released from detention.  She told Vigil supporters how grateful she was for their support in preventing her deportation and ending her detention.

·        On the last Vigil of summer – when it is becoming cooler in the evening – we were grateful for hot food from Augustine Makora and Edward Mutamiswa who brought a delicious stew of pig’s trotters (and a vegetarian alternative) to sell to Vigil supporters. All proceeds were donated to the Vigil.

·        We enjoyed a cake to celebrate the birthday of Vigil Co-ordinator Dumi Tutani.

 

For latest Vigil pictures check: http://www.flickr.com/photos/zimbabwevigil/. For the latest ZimVigil TV programme check the link at the top of the home page of our website. 

 

FOR THE RECORD: 203 signed the register.

EVENTS AND NOTICES:

·       The Restoration of Human Rights in Zimbabwe (ROHR) is the Vigil’s partner organisation based in Zimbabwe. ROHR grew out of the need for the Vigil to have an organisation on the ground in Zimbabwe which reflected the Vigil’s mission statement in a practical way. ROHR in the UK actively fundraises through membership subscriptions, events, sales etc to support the activities of ROHR in Zimbabwe.

·       IOM Live Video Conference with Returnees in Zimbabwe. Wednesday 22nd September from 9.30 am to 1.30 pm. Venue: International Organisation for Migration, 21 Westminster Palace Gardens, Artillery Row, London SW1P 1RR. Attendance is free, but registration is required. To confirm your attendance or for more information about the event, please call 020 7808 1083 or email infouk@iom.int.  Lunch will be provided.

·       ROHR Coventry general meeting. Saturday 25th September from 1 – 5 pm. Venue: 90a Paynes Lane, Coventry CV1 5JH. ROHR National Executive and a well known lawyer present. Contact V.J Mujeye 07534034594, Matambanashe Sibanda 07886660392, Pauline Makuwere 07575265710, P. Mapfumo 07932216070/07915926323 or P Chibanguza 07908406069.

·       ROHR Liverpool Vigil. Saturday 25th September from 2 – 5 pm. Venue: Church Street (Outside Primark), Liverpool City Centre. For details please contact: Anywhere Mungoyo 07939913688, Trywell Migeri 07956083758, Panyika Karimanzira 07551062161. Future demonstration: 9th October. Same time and venue.

·       ROHR Basildon and Thurrock general meeting. Saturday 25th September from 2 – 6 pm. Venue: WRVS, Richmond Road, BenfleetEssex. ROHR executive members present. Contact Tobokwa Malikogwa  07865156381, Nhamo E Kumumvuri 07623337115 or P Mapfumo 07915926323/07932216070.

·       LoveZim International Prayer Day. Sunday 26th September. LoveZim is asking that people join them in prayer for Zimbabwe on this day. For more information check: www.lovezim.com.

·       Zimbabwe Vigil’s 8th Anniversary. Saturday 9th October from 2 – 6 pm.

·       ROHR Wolverhampton relaunch meeting. Date to be advised. Venue: Heath Town Community Centre, 208 Chevril Rise, Wolverhampton WV10 0HP. It's time for you to join in the Struggle for Peace, Justice and Freedom for Zimbabwe. Contact P Chibanguza 07908406069, P Nkomo 07817096594, P Dunduru 07958386718, D Mtendereki 07771708800 or P Mapfumo 07915926323/07932216070.

·       ROHR Woking general meeting. Saturday 2nd October  from 2 – 5 pm. Venue: Ravenswood Court, Hillview Road, Woking GU22 7NR. Contact: Isaac Mudzamiri 07774044873, Sithokozile Hlokana 07886203113 or P Mapfumo on 07915926323 / 07932216070.

·       ROHR Stevenage general meeting. Saturday 16th October. Venue: Poplars Bandley Hill Community Centre, Magpie Crescent, Stevenage, Herts SG2 9RZ from 1.30 – 5.30. ROHR Executive present. Contact Jemitas Mare 07570191705, K Mashonganyika 07962383872 or P Mapfumo 07915926323, 07932216070 

·       Vigil Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=8157345519&ref=ts.

·       Vigil Myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/zimbabwevigil.

·       ‘Through the Darkness’, Judith Todd’s acclaimed account of the rise of Mugabe.  To receive a copy by post in the UK please email confirmation of your order and postal address to ngwenyasr@yahoo.co.uk and send a cheque for £10 payable to “Budiriro Trust” to Emily Chadburn, 15 Burners Close, Burgess Hill, West Sussex RH15 0QA. All proceeds go to the Budiriro Trust which provides bursaries to needy A Level students in Zimbabwe

·       Workshops aiming to engage African men on HIV testing and other sexual health issues. Organised by the Terrence Higgins Trust (www.tht.org.uk). Please contact the co-ordinator Takudzwa Mukiwa (takudzwa.mukiwa@tht.org.uk) if you are interested in taking part.

 

Vigil Co-ordinators

The Vigil, outside the Zimbabwe Embassy, 429 Strand, London, takes place every Saturday from 14.00 to 18.00 to protest against gross violations of human rights in Zimbabwe. The Vigil which started in October 2002 will continue until internationally-monitored, free and fair elections are held in Zimbabwe: http://www.zimvigil.co.uk.

 

                                                 

 
Vigil co-ordinator
 
The Vigil, outside the Zimbabwe Embassy, 429 Strand, London, takes place every Saturday from 14.00 to 18.00 to protest against gross violations of human rights in Zimbabwe. The Vigil which started in October 2002 will continue until internationally-monitored, free and fair elections are held in Zimbabwe. http://www.zimvigil.co.uk


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Air Zimbabwe: A victim of the first family’s indulgencies



We could see it coming – the Air Zim crisis or its near collapse. It never
rains but it pours for the poor airline’s officials who now find themselves
in a “bind over Mugabe New York trip” (The Zimbabwean, 16/09/10) when they
are in the midst of a strike. Cry the beloved country! It is incredible that
Zimbabweans have managed to bear the burden of flying the Zanu-pf Supreme
Leader, Robert Gabriel Mugabe for 30 years on his annual speaking homage to
New York and of course shopping sprees even when the country was under
tragic grip of cholera.

Although the Chief Executive of Air Zimbabwe, Peter Chikumba has denied
reports that Robert Mugabe has often commandeered aircraft to the
disadvantage of paying passengers saying “I wish we could have more
customers like Mugabe” (Ibid), what could he say in Zimbabwe when they under
surveillance by CIOs 24/7? The current industrial dispute reportedly left
190 passengers stranded in London on 9 September 2010 after the airline
cancelled its scheduled Friday flight to Zimbabwe (New Zimbabwe, 01/09/10).

Even if Chikumba meant it, the point is that it’s not Mugabe who pays for
all these joyrides but the average taxpayer since 1980. The industrial
action by Air Zimbabwe pilots and workers is very justified because the
right to strike is enshrined in the Constitution of Zimbabwe and the Labour
Relations Act as long as relevant conditions are met.

Generally, if collective bargaining has failed to achieve a mutually
acceptable outcome within a given period of time, workers are allowed by the
Labour to give notice of a collective job action. According to media
reports, Zimbabwe’s national airline 40 pilots are striking for “improved
salaries and outstanding allowances which date back to about 20 months and
totalling US$3 million” (Zimonline, 13/09/10). A captain reportedly earns an
average US$12 000 but is getting US$3 500 with the rest being deferred until
the company can pay.

Evidence of the effectiveness of the industrial is observable in the sudden
crisis the company found itself in. Immediately, the airline management
resorted to “fire fighting tactics” including suspension of flights to
Britain, China, Zambia and the Democratic Republic of Congo and hiring of
Air Quarius to service the Harare Jo’burg route (VOA News, 13/09/10).

Management’s response of dismissing all the 40 pilots for taking collective
job action would seem null and void and actionable in the absence of a
disciplinary hearing especially amidst reports of the notorious CIO
allegedly “hounding” the striking pilots (ZimDaily 14/09/10).

While the panicking management’s motive could have been to intimidate the
workers to return without meeting their demands, another possible plausible
reason could be to make the employees forfeit their employment benefits and
coerce them into negotiating fresh employment contracts. That would be very
unfair and unwise as it would show bad faith and tarnish the airline’s image
as a competitive employer.

Admittedly, the national carrier is starved of cash for “re-tooling” while
nearly all its planes are between 18 and 22 years old” (Zimonline,
13/09/10). Similarly, Air Zimbabwe’s pilots are among the world’s best and
well trained professionals having not experienced any fatal crashes for
decades to my knowledge. On 5 November 2009 an Air Zimbabwe plane collided
with five wild pigs on the runway in Harare during takeoff, but all the 34
people on board were evacuated safely (Timeslive, 05/11/09).

However, like dominoes falling and triggering the next one in a series, the
current Air Zimbabwe crisis can be traced backwards. Saddled with a total
foreign debt of US28 million and almost US$9 million owed to pilots,
engineers, active workers and workers on the retrenchment list, Air Zimbabwe’s
head ache is more than a migraine as it also has the burden of servicing
unprofitable routes imposed on it by the Mugabe regime while the new
coalition government has clamped down on state cash bail-outs (Sunday
Standard – Botswana, 27/05/09).

Instead of servicing its London flights and generate income, last month, an
Air Zimbabwe Boeing 767 long haul was parked for three days at Windhoek’s
Hosea Kutako International Airport waiting for Robert Mugabe who was
attending the ineffectual 30th SADC summit which ended on 17 August 2010.

The argument advanced by Air Zimbabwe officials that Mugabe charters the
aircraft is obviously a convenient and safe answer given the sensitivity of
the matter but is plainly stupid because it’s like burying your head in the
sand. It’s a waste of valuable resources to park an aircraft for three days
talking shop in Namibia only to plunge the airline in the mess that it is in
today.

The only direct flight to Harare from London’s Gatwick Airport left almost
100 passengers stranded on Sunday 28 September 2008 (Zim Daily, 29/09/08).
The direct flight’s schedule was allegedly altered at short notice to
stopover in Egypt Cairo where it was expected to connect with a USA flight
with Mugabe’s shopping “retinue” of 54 which reportedly increased to 94 with
suspected recalled diplomats  on return from the 63rd UN General Assembly
meeting in New York, according to ZimDaily.

The cost to the taxpayer of that escapade was estimated at US$2 million in
“airfares, accommodation, food and daily allowances for Mugabe to deliver a
15 minute speech” in a country where the average monthly income is “not more
than US$50.00” (ibid).
In May last year, Air Zimbabwe reportedly resolved to introduce short
working hours with effect from June 2009 in a bid to reduce the wage bill by
50% as it faced constraints (Sunday Standard - Botswana, 27/05/09). The
airline went on to “right-size” by cutting 500 jobs representing one-third
of its workforce in order to mitigate financial losses, according to its
Chief Executive, Peter Chikumba (Zimbabwe Metro, 18/08/09).
Amidst criticisms of mismanagement and interference by the government in Air
Zimbabwe’s operations, the Zanu-pf leader, Robert Mugabe allegedly “grabbed
a jet for a private visit to Dubai, making the airline lose critical income
at a time when it is battling to meet its financial obligations” (ZimDaily,
22/08/09). The Dubai visit was reportedly mired in secrecy. Sources said
Mugabe only took 18 people on a Boeing 767 which has a capacity of 250
passengers for a private visit to Dubai in August 2009. However, Air
Zimbabwe chief executive, Peter Chikumba defended Mugabe saying it was a
chartered flight.
Jon Swain, revealed in February 2010 that the CIO team of six men and one
woman who were sent to Switzerland several days in advance of Mugabe’s visit
were paid special allowances of US$5,000 (£3,200) a day to keep Mugabe
 safe.”Over 10 days in Switzerland, each accumulated a total of US$50,000 in
cash (The Sunday Times, 07/02/10).  He also disclosed that Mugabe
commandeered Air Zimbabwe’s only serviceable Boeing 767 to fly to the United
Nations climate change conference in Copenhagen with a 59-strong delegation.
In March 2005,the Zanu-pf Supreme Leader, Robert Mugabe allegedly
commandeered an Air Zimbabwe aircraft to attend a summit of the Information
Society in Geneva Switzerland (The Zimbabwe Independent, 15/04/05).
In January 2004, the state owned daily reported that the (then) Acting
Minister of Transport and Communications, Jonathan Moyo, yesterday said “the
British-controlled Zimbabwe Independent should be prepared to face the wrath
of the law for writing lies about President Mugabe “commandeering an Air
Zimbabwe plane to ferry him around the Far East” (Herald, 11/01/04).
Three journalists from the Zimbabwe Independent – Iden Wetherell, Vincent
Kahiya and Dumisani Muleya were later arrested and spent what they dubbed:
“Our weekend as Mugabe’s Guests” (The Zimbabwe Independent, 22 April 2005).
However, in a statement following their release, the journalists noted that
“it is not disputed that Mugabe used the plane to ferry him between
Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore. But the state, or more to the point,
Information Minister Jonathan Moyo, took exception to the word “commandeer”
as opposed to the substance of the story making the hole dispute a semantic
one We were told during interrogation that “commandeer” meant to hijack”
(Ibid). Now samantics aside, let’s go shopping with Zimbabwe’s first
shopper.
An insight into the First Family’s lifestyle is given by Claire Donnelly. In
an incisive article, “Hanging out with Zim’s first shopper” Claire said: “As
Robert Mugabe’s wife Grace strolled around the most exclusive boutiques in
Paris recently, the plight of the hungry was the last thing on her mind.
Hiding behind £180 Christian Dior sunglasses and with a £25,000 diamond
encrusted Rolex hanging off her wrist, the First Lady of Zimbabwe spent  a
day doing what she does best – shopping. After a £150 – a head dinner she
and her husband retired to their £10,000 a night 33-room suite at the Plaza
Athenee, while back home families queued for meagre supplies of bread and
cooking oil”(Daily Mirror 20/06/03).
The foregoing seeks to demonstrate the domino theory of the factors
contributing to the current crisis at Air Zimbabwe. It would be parochial to
deny the existence of factors other than political because our national
airline is not immune to management problems nor was it spared of the world
recession. Lessons have hopefully been learnt.
The ZimInd journalists made a very precise and concise statement which is
relevant to this day: “This case is about public accountability. Mugabe is
the country’s most senior public official. Air Zimbabwe is a publicly owned
airline. Both are accountable to Zimbabweans as they survive on taxpayers’
money –huge amounts of it. It is therefore, the right and duty of newspapers
to submit political leaders to scrutiny regardless of what overheated and
ingratiating officials might think”(Ibid).
What if the officials try to persuade Mugabe to hitch a free ride in JZs
(Jacob Zuma’s) presidential jet and take the opportunity to brief him about
the GPA and targeted smart sanctions at leisure over a glass of caviar. It’s
only a suggestion but it won’t stop his wife from painting New York red on
arrival.
Clifford Chitupa Mashiri, Political Analyst, London,
zimanalysis2009@gmail.com
 


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Peter Godwin's new book

http://www.guardian.co.uk/
 

Robert Mugabe's 2008 crackdown: torture, death and a stolen election

Rhodesian-born journalist Peter Godwin returned to Zimbabwe in the immediate aftermath of the 2008 presidential election. In this extract from his new book, The Fear, he describes meeting victims of Mugabe's terror

 
robert mugabe sworn in
Robert Mugabe is sworn in for a sixth term in office in Harare, on 29 June 2008, after being declared the winner of a one-man election. Photograph: Alexander Joe/AFP/Getty Images

In late March of 2008, I headed home to Zimbabwe, in great excitement, to dance on Robert Mugabe's political grave. The crooked elections he had just held had spun out of his control, and after 28 years, the world's oldest leader seemed about to be toppled.

  1. The Fear: the Last Days of Robert Mugabe
  2. by Peter Godwin
 
  

Eighty-four years old, with his dyed black hair and his blood transfusions, his Botox and vitamin-cocktail shots, he had querulously dominated his country for a generation. He had fixed elections with ease in the past, using a combination of rigging, fraud and intimidation, but now Zimbabweans had rejected him in such overwhelming numbers that it looked like he would finally be forced to accept their verdict.

They had many reasons to reject him. Once they had enjoyed the highest standard of living in Africa. Now their money was nearly worthless, halving in value every 24 hours. Only 6% of workers had jobs. Their incomes had sunk to pre-1950 levels. They were starving. Their schools were closed, their hospitals collapsed. Their life expectancy had crashed from 60 to 36. They had the world's highest number of orphans, proportional to population. They were officially the unhappiest people on earth, and they were fleeing the shattered country in their millions - an exodus of up to a third of the population.

My younger sister, Georgina, a broadcaster who lives in London, was joining me to witness the Zimbabwe endgame, though neither of us was supposed to be here. Western journalists were banned, and the police had just arrested several foreign journalists. We were in double jeopardy: I was once declared an enemy of the state, accused of spying, and Georgina worked for an anti-Mugabe radio station, in London, and she also featured on a list of undesirables, excluded from the country.

Although the election results had still not been announced, six days after the vote, the ruling party already knew that despite the gerrymandering and the intimidation, the rigging and the "ghost voters", Mugabe had lost resoundingly to his nemesis, Morgan Tsvangirai, who should now be declared the new president.

Mugabe called a meeting of his politburo to decide what to do next. From within his inner circle leaked the news that he was shocked by the nation's antipathy, and despairing. His four dozen or so politburo members, many of them comrades from the war of independence to overturn white rule, had to decide whether to concede power, drawing the long reign of the dictator to a close, or to fight on.

In the end, his resolve stiffened by his generals, Mugabe decided not to accept defeat, but instead to fiddle the figures, and trigger a second round of voting, a run-off election. But he waited before announcing this, while his henchmen planned a vicious crackdown against the opposition. Mugabe's generals were to call this attack Operation Mavhoterapapi? - "Who Did You Vote For?" - and it became their most violent since the Matabeleland massacres, 25 years earlier.

As we wait for Mugabe to massage the election results, we decide to drive south east from Harare to Chimanimani and Silverstream, where we both grew up. We cross the Silverstream river just above the rapids that tumble into plunge pools where we used to swim as kids. At the top of the village, above the factory that processes wattle bark into tannin to cure leather, is our old house, a simple colonial bungalow, with a corrugated tin roof. Outside, I recognise the landscape of my memories: the rolling green lawns of Kikuyu grass, and the malachite kingfishers, which still patronise the pond; the cork oak, flame tree, Northumberland pine, silver oak, syringa tree, jacaranda, the belhambra with its long dangling bracts of white flowers at this time of year, and the coral tree, sentinels of our childhood.

Peter Godwin Peter Godwin visiting his old school in Chimanimani. Photograph: Peter Godwin

George and Tanya Webster now live here. Where my father used to have his old slip-covered armchair, next to the big brick fireplace in the sitting room, Tanya Webster, a large cheerful woman with curly black hair and glasses, now sits, knitting blankets, while kittens swat at her wool. Her husband George, genial, with short, steel-grey hair and moustache, shows us around.

Our house is the same but different. Ancestral English bric-a-brac has been replaced by African tchotchkes: a trio of plump wooden hippos, a copper wall clock in the shape of Africa, a standard lamp made from a varnished tree branch. The veranda, where I used to lie on the red-cement parapet in my flannel pyjamas, watching the thunderstorms roll down from Spitzkop, is now enclosed.

George Webster's great-grandfather came up to Gazaland with the original pioneer column, in July 1893, from Haywards Heath, via Groot Marico in South Africa. Like his father before him, Webster was in the air force. In late 1980, after independence, he resigned, along with 70 other technicians, after an ex-guerrilla who had invented his qualifications was brought in over them.

Webster tells me that five busloads of soldiers in civilian clothes have been deployed into nearby areas where Mugabe lost the vote. And an old Afrikaner farmer, Schalk du Plessis, had been wrenched from his truck by war vets who cuffed his hands behind his back and tied his neck to a tree with fence wire.

As Du Plessis sat there against the tree with the wire around his neck, he saw that his guard was wearing a baseball cap bearing the slogan: "Jesus loves you". "So," says Webster, "old Schalk challenged him. 'How can you do this to me and yet you profess to be Christian?' he asked." And the war vet got embarrassed and untied him.

That night I walk down the wide-planked corridor to my old corner bedroom, for the first time in 30 years. I sleep profoundly, dreaming of my childhood. And deep into the night, on wind-borne surges from the compound, I hear the throb of drums, just like I always used to hear.

Before we leave, Tanya takes us on a farewell tour of the garden. Georgina and I get down on our knees on the lawn, beneath the coral tree. It is considered a magical tree. Zulu people plant a coral tree on the grave of a chief. The bark is used to make a poultice to heal wounds. We are collecting the small, shiny scarlet seeds that the coral tree has shed. We call them "lucky beans". Tanya brings out an old jam jar and we fill it with lucky beans.

We drive back to Harare in silence. It is the anniversary of the death of our sister, Jain - killed in the Rhodesian bush war 28 years ago today, weeks before her wedding. As soon as we reach Harare, we head straight through the city to the northern suburb of Borrowdale, to Christchurch, where Jain's ashes are entombed next to Dad's.

Together we sweep the grass tailings off the two gravestones on the crematorium lawn. As we do so, a marmalade cat strolls over and then curls up, purring, on Dad's gravestone. "It belongs to the old pastor, Father Bertram," says Rodgers Sokiri, the church gardener. "The one who buried your father. He left to live in South Africa."

We phone my mother from the graveside and tell her what we're doing.

"What's it like there?" she asks. "Describe it for me, Peter."

So I tell her that there is a marmalade cat purring on Dad's gravestone, and cockerels are crowing and black-eyed bulbuls are chirping and hopping from branch to branch of the jacaranda trees. That lush banana fronds sway over the boundary wall in the late-afternoon breeze. I tell her that rather than flowers, we have brought lucky beans from the coral tree in our old garden in Silverstream, and that we are pouring them into the runnels of the letters carved into Jain's gravestone, so that they are now picked out in lines of scarlet.

"How is it in London?" I ask.

"Raining," she says, and I can hear her quietly weeping on the end of the phone, all those miles away.

In our absence, Harare's private hospitals have started to fill with victims of Mugabe's crackdown against the opposition. Denias Dombo lies broken on a hospital bed in Dandara, his dark head propped up against the bright white pillows. His left leg is in plaster from hip to heel, just the calloused khaki sole peeping out the end of the sheet. Both arms are in plaster casts too, right up to the veined ridges of his farmer's biceps.

Denias Dombo After Mugabe supporters set fire to his house, MDC member Denias Dombo complained to the police. Shortly afterwards, he was brutally beaten by a mob and left for dead. Photograph by Jeffrey Barbee

He winces as he turns to pick up his teacup, because several of his ribs are broken. "Can you lift my leg back up?" he asks. "My blood is too heavy."

Until last week, Dombo farmed groundnuts and maize, and lived in a tidy brushed-earth kraal with three thatched houses, and his seven cattle slept in a thorn-tree-enclosed pen. Around now he should be harvesting his groundnuts, instead of lying shattered in a Harare hospital.

But earlier this year Denias Dombo made a terrible mistake. He believed it when he was told that Zimbabwe was to hold free and fair elections. "It was my job," he says, "as the district organising secretary for the MDC, to apply to the police for clearance to hold party meetings." So everyone knew his party affiliation. As it turned out, the Mudzi district did not go well for the MDC. They lost all three parliamentary constituencies to Mugabe's ruling Zanu-PF. You might think this would be a cause of celebration for the victors. But that's when the trouble started.

One Thursday, Denias Dombo heard a vehicle growling to a halt outside his home, and went to investigate. As he approached he saw "bright flames - my house already on fire" and the two men who had set it alight scampering back to their pick-up truck.

He recognised both men. One was the newly elected Zanu-PF MP for the area, and the other was a prominent Zanu-PF member and neighbour. The vehicle in which they sped off had Zanu-PF signs on its doors, and in the back sat a group of youths in party T-shirts, with pictures of Robert Mugabe's face across their chests.

Dombo yelled after them: "I see you, I know who you are and you are the ones who have burned down my house."

Everything inside was destroyed. So Dombo collected the MDC vice-district chairman and his own brother and together they walked all night, 15 miles, to the nearest police station, at Kotwa, to report the crime, and then walked home.

Later that afternoon the police arrived, took a cursory look at his burnt house, and departed. Twenty minutes later, about 30 youths in Zanu-PF T-shirts swarmed into the kraal, armed with sticks and iron bars. They were yelling and throwing rocks. Dombo and his family tried to barricade themselves in the kitchen. But their attackers broke down the flimsy door and began stoning the family huddled inside.

That's when Denias Dombo came to a decision.

"I decided, better for me to come out, or they will kill my family."

So he told his wife, Patricia, who was carrying their four-month-old son, Israel, his 14-year-old daughter, Martha and her nine-year-old sister, Dorcas: "I'm going to go out and when they run after me, you must all run away as fast as you can, and hide." Then Dombo took a deep breath and ran out towards his attackers, and, just as he had anticipated, they converged upon him, with their rocks and iron bars and their heavy sticks, until, he says, "my blood was rushing out everywhere". He tried to protect his head with his arms while they beat him. "I heard the bones in my arms crack and I cried out: 'Oh, Jesus, I'm dying here - what have I done wrong?'" And as they beat him, on and on, his assailants made him shout, "Pamberi ne [up with] Robert Mugabe", "Pamberi ne Zanu-PF", "Pasi ne [down with] Tsvangirai".

The beating continued until the ringleader, one Jeavus Chiutsa, finally looked at his watch and said: "Let's leave him here, we'll come back and finish him off tonight."

Denias Dombo tried to stand up, teetered and fell down, tried to stand up once more and fell again. And then he looked down and realised his leg was broken; he could see the jagged shard of his left shin bone "waving out", as he puts it. And one arm hung limp and shattered too. "And they saw I was going nowhere," he says. "So they blew their whistles, and toyi-toyi-ed [war-danced] away down the road."

Unable to escape, Dombo lay down by the embers of his burnt house. "The pain was so great," he says. "There was blood everywhere. I was in such terrible pain and I thought I was dying, and I decided, better to kill myself than just wait for them to return and finish me off."

So Dombo picked up a length of thick wire, and wiping the blood from his eyes, twisted one end into a tight noose around his neck and summoned his remaining strength to reach up and attach the other end to a hook in the brick wall of his charred house. He took a deep breath and threw himself down. He felt the wire tighten around his throat, felt the sunlight dim, felt himself grow faint and the life inside him ebbing away. Then he fell heavily to the ground. The wire had broken.

Dombo can't go on, a great jagged sob wells up from his chest, it is the first time he has really recounted the detail of what happened, and faced the enormity of it all. At his bedside Georgina is crying too, and she reaches over to grasp his hand. Slowly his sobs subside and he takes up his story once more. After the wire broke and he fell to the ground, Dombo lay there trembling with pain, the wire noose still twisted around his neck, until he heard a piping voice calling to him.

"Baba, Baba, simukai, ndaporta," which in the local Shona language means, "Father, please wake up." It was Dorcas, his daughter, kneeling at his side. When she saw him lying there, covered in blood, his bones broken and wire twisted around his neck, she began to weep.

"It's OK, it's OK, I'm not yet dead," he told her softly, patting her arm. "But you must go and get help quickly or I might still die."

He asked her to fetch a neighbour, a fellow opposition supporter, Wellington Mafiyoni.

Soon Mafiyoni arrived and gingerly loaded Dombo's shattered body into a wheelbarrow. He trundled Dombo 500 yards out into the bush and laid him down on the ground, pulling some branches over him as camouflage.

"Be brave," he urged, "and try not to cry, so they won't hear where I hid you."

Then he set off to walk the 15 miles to the police station to get help. And as Dombo lay there that evening on the cold, hard ground, with the jagged end of his broken shin bone sticking out of his flesh, the mob returned. Dombo listened as they searched for him and he heard them decide that he must already be dead. And he heard them setting about his prize possessions, his seven cattle, with axes.

"They cut the tendons on their back legs," he sobs now. "I could hear my cows crying to me. But I could do nothing."

Sometime the next afternoon the ambulance arrived with a police escort, as the driver was too afraid to come alone.

"I still need another operation to set my bones properly," he says, "but my doctor told me that I am still too weak, my blood pressure is still too low for that."

His broken ribs still hurt, and they stop him from sleeping, and he can't move his leg. And as he lies here, sleepless, he dreams of his children.

"I don't think I'll ever see them again," he says.

Then he holds up his broken arms.

"For me, this is a death sentence - I can't provide for my children any longer."

He starts to lose it again, and through his tears, he rails. "I have lost everything. All I had accumulated has turned to ashes."

He doesn't know where his family is, his wife and daughters and his baby son, or how they will survive. Dombo reaches painfully into his bedside table to retrieve the phone number of someone he hopes might know where they are. He presses it into my hand and asks me to try to locate his family.

"Please, sir, I am begging you."

And then, apologising as he does so, he turns his face to the wall and begins to weep again.

Ayear later. At Harare city hall the walls of the corridors are lined with gilt-rimmed oils presented by old white mayors, mostly of bucolic English scenes. I am asked to wait in room 103. The sign on the door says it is the "Mayoress's Parlour and Lady Councillors' Retiring Room", and it's furnished with floral armchairs, a divan, and a dressing table.

Much Musunda will see me now. He's a prominent commercial lawyer, and an old friend. He tells of his efforts to restore the city's water supply, fend off cholera and fill in the pox of potholes - all with no budget. Musunda has agreed to stand in as acting mayor (without salary) while the man voted to the job in 2008, Emmanuel Chiroto, serves as his deputy.

"The idea," says Much, "is that I guide and mentor Emmanuel. My aim is that within my five-year term, by year three, I hope, he will take over as mayor himself."

Emmanuel Chiroto sits in an office next door, under - as the law requires in every office - a scowling portrait of "His Excellency, the President of the Republic of Zimbabwe, Comrade Robert Gabriel Mugabe". A small, intense man, in a purple shirt and dark suit, he has an open, troubled face.

Emmanuel Chiroto Emmanuel Chirito and his son, Ashley, in their destroyed home. Inbox X Photograph: Peter Godwin

Chiroto used to live with his wife, Abigail, 27, and their four-year-old son, Ashley, in Hatcliffe, a working-class township from which he ran a little textile business - screen-printing logos on T-shirts, mostly. Abigail sold eggs and freeze-its (frozen drinks), and was training to be a tailor.

In the elections, he stood as a city councillor. "There were warnings about my security," he says, "but I didn't take them seriously. I was such a small fish - why would they want to kill me?"

In Zimbabwean cities, the mayor is voted in by the other city councillors. The MDC had won 45 out of 46 seats in Harare. That's how hated Mugabe is here. Three days before the mayoral election, some of the councillors suggested Emmanuel put his name forward.

"I asked my wife, and she said, 'Why don't you go for it?' So, I agreed, though I didn't actively campaign." He even missed the caucus meeting, because he was in Epworth, a slum east of the city, collecting some MDC women who had been badly beaten. "When I came back from Epworth, they told me, 'Congratulations, you have been elected mayor!'

"I was happy, honestly. I phoned my wife and said, 'I'm now the mayor of Harare!' She said: 'I won't congratulate you on the phone, I'm coming to do it in person.'"

They met in town and drove out to Hatcliffe together, where he dropped her at home and went to park his pick-up truck. As he walked back, he got a call. "One of our guys, Jairos Karasa, our ward chairman, had been attacked by Mugabe's militia at their torture base in Hatcliffe - they had three there - and he was being carried in with a wheelbarrow. So I turned back, got my car, and went to collect him. I phoned my wife and told her I was taking Jairos to hospital, so I'd be late.

"When I found Jairos, he was in agony, he couldn't stand or sit, he had been beaten so badly. I took him to Avenues clinic. While I was there, I got a call from an MDC guy out in Hatcliffe saying my house was on fire. The first thing I said was: 'Where is my family? Are they safe?' But no one knew what had become of my wife and my little boy."

Emmanuel took refuge at the Namibian embassy. Then he alerted the African observer mission, and returned with them to his house.

"The fire was out by then, and a large crowd had gathered outside. No one knew where my family was. I went straight into our bedroom, but there were no burnt bodies in there. And then I knew they had been taken. We heard the approaching chanting of a big column of Mugabe's youth militia, so we left the area."

One of the youths who had been trying to guard his house told him what had happened. At 7pm three twin-cabs without licence plates arrived. A group of men ran out, some of them in army fatigues, armed with AK-47s; there were party youth too, brandishing machetes.

"No one knows exactly how many, my maid counted at least nine. They asked her where I was, and before she could even answer they smashed down the front and back doors. She heard three loud bangs and looked back to see the whole house on fire. Then she heard the doors of the twin-cabs slamming shut and heard them drive away, very fast.

"An MDC guard said they carried both my wife and young son out of the house, that my wife was struggling and screaming. It's one of those things I don't want to know about in any more detail."

Emmanuel got the election observers to drop him off in town, at his nephew's flat. But the Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO), Mugabe's secret police, were waiting for him there, "so we had to run for our lives and jump over wall after wall, until we lost them".

In the meantime, his brother had gone to the police station at Borrowdale, a northern suburb of Harare. "As soon as he arrived there, a twin-cab pulled over at the gate and dropped off my kid. My sister went over to the black twin-cab - there were two huge guys in the front with sunglasses, and in the back a policewoman. My sister said: 'Tell me, where is his mother?' But they drove off. Ashley said: 'Let's go and get Mummy, she's in the bush. The soldiers left her there.'"

"Later I asked my brother to go to Parirenyatwa Hospital, to see if there were any unidentified bodies there. And he found my wife in the morgue there, her body was swollen and battered."

Emmanuel went neither to her funeral nor to the burial. "Everyone said I had to stay in hiding as it was too dangerous for me to come out. I really wanted to see my wife before she was buried. But they all said no. The burial itself was very tense, because there were CIO agents mingling in with the mourners, looking for me.

"Later, Morgan, our president, phoned to see if I wanted to continue as mayor, if I felt I could manage, after what had happened. I said: 'My wife has died while we were fighting this election, so I must continue.'"

On Sunday morning, I meet Emmanuel out at Hatcliffe. He surveys the ruin of his house and inventories all he has lost. "My home is totally destroyed, and my business, everything I worked for all my life. My wife is dead. Now I live in a loaned council house, and I have no assistance from anyone to rebuild."

There in the small, wild garden that Emmanuel admits he hasn't set foot in since the attack, I find the burnt hulk of their sofa, and in the overgrown weeds of their front lawn, a charred Zimbabwe passport. I flip it open to see that it is Abigail's, her burnt photo smiles back at me, charred at the edges. Nearby are Ashley's tiny sneakers, and Abigail's flip-flops, both charred too. Emmanuel walks around the burnt walls. "I don't think I can ever live here again," he says.

His Nokia rings, and the screen lights up to show a photo of Abigail on their wedding day. Emmanuel holds the phone up to show me. "This is my lovely wife," he says simply. "And they killed her."

Ashley emerges from the pick-up parked outside. There is a sombre, unsmiling quality about him, as though his childishness has been extinguished early. "In the early days," says his dad, "Ashley used to say: 'We were taken by soldiers. We left Mummy there in the bush.' Over and over, he begged me, 'Let's go back and get her.' He would get a belt and tie it around his eyes, to blindfold himself, and he would say, 'This is what Mummy was like.' He thinks if he blindfolds himself, that maybe he can see her again."

We stay for a few days with husband-and-wife architects Richard and Penny Beattie in Borrowdale. Their friend Henry Chimbiri, a former high-school teacher, drops by, looking thinner than ever. Henry is the Zelig of Zimbabwean opposition politics, with elements of Forrest Gump and the Scarlet Pimpernel. He was active in the union movement, held various posts in the MDC, then stood as parliamentary candidate in Mount Darwin South. While trying to campaign, he was beaten and imprisoned. On polling day, as the candidates were waiting for the ballot count to begin, they heard the results being announced on the radio. Unsurprisingly Henry had lost.

As a freelance photographer and cameraman he has covered almost every significant MDC event and meeting. He has been arrested so many times he's lost count - more than 60. Put it this way, Alec Muchadehama, the human-rights lawyer who represents Henry, is on Penny's speed dial.

Henry Chimbiri Henry Chimbiri outside his front door, broken in an attack by Mugabe's men. Photograph: Peter Godwin

To drive around Harare with Henry is to get a conducted tour of the violent reality of Mugabe's rule. As we drive past State House, Henry points to the house opposite, another official government residence. A few years ago he was on the way to a rally for Tendai Biti, one of the MDC's leaders, when his truck was passed by Mugabe's cavalcade, and the people chanted and jeered. Shortly afterwards they were pulled over at gunpoint by soldiers and ordered in here. "They beat us so badly, using planks and sticks they had cut off from the pine trees, one man had to have his arm amputated afterwards," says Henry.

"I am one of the lucky ones," Henry admits. "I am still alive. But there are other people not so lucky, who don't have Penny to call a lawyer. If no one talks about you, then no one will come to your rescue. Many of these cases haven't been followed up, cases of people being tortured, people being killed. The little people have disappeared and no one follows up."

Driving home later, we are talking about revenge and justice for torture victims, as we have done before, when Henry says: "It happened to me too."

"What did?"

"Torture." He is speaking so softly I can barely hear him.

"How?" I ask, hesitantly.

He rubs his eyes with the backs of his hands, and lets out a decisive sigh.

"The time I was arrested together with Raymond Majongwe, the head of the teachers' union - they said that I was involved in mobilising teachers against the government.

"They handcuffed me and blindfolded me, and threw me into the back of a vehicle." They drove fast out of the city, he says and when they stopped he could smell pigs, so he knew this was some kind of farm. Then they threw him into an empty room and locked the door. After an hour, they removed his blindfold, and the interrogation began.

"I could hear Majongwe crying in the next room - I know his voice - and they were beating him there. They brought in a small blue enamel plate with a silver crochet hook on it, with a cotton reel with white thread. And they said: 'Tell us the truth. Or else we will work on you the whole night, and you will not be a man when we are finished.'

"So I tried to tell them what I knew about the strike, and that there were fliers floating round the school calling for the strike. They asked who distributed them - I didn't know. Then they blindfolded me again and removed my trousers down to my ankles. I started shivering, knowing that something terrible was going to happen. They called to someone. 'Skipper,' they called, 'get ready, we are waiting for you.'

"A person came in, this Skipper, and he got hold of my penis, and said: 'You tell us, there is a tape recorder, tell us.' I told him about Majongwe, and whatever I could think of. Then he said to me, 'You are a fuck-up!' - he said it in English - 'And we are going to teach you a lesson.' He held my penis very firmly, and he pushed the crochet hook inside, and then he twisted it. I screamed with the pain - he had hooked it inside my penis - I could feel the blood spurting down onto my thighs. I fell off the bench and he punched my mouth repeatedly, telling me to shut up. I tried to pretend I was having an epileptic fit. He called his colleagues to bring some water. They came in running, and poured water on me, and then they removed the blindfold and said: 'Now tell us.'

"I looked down at my penis and saw the crochet hook was still inside it. Blood was everywhere. I looked at them, and I was weeping. And Skipper said: 'Kusina amai akuendwe. Your mother is not here to listen. There is no one to help you.' Then he wrenched the hook out. Blood flowed even more. I screamed and screamed. They all left the room, and I was on my own, just looking at my groin. I tried to hold my penis, to stop the blood, but it just kept on flowing.

"They came back a few minutes later, blindfolded me again, pulled up my trousers, took me outside and threw me in a vehicle. I was covered in sweat and blood. They drove me for a few minutes and then removed my blindfold, removed the handcuffs, but tied my hands again with the blindfold, threw me out on the ground, and drove away." Henry is staring straight ahead, still speaking in a quiet monotone.

"My penis is still painful. Even now, it hurts when I try to have sex with my wife. There is a lump inside, I can feel it there. I am now disabled."

I have pulled over to the side of the road while he has been talking. And now we sit there in silence for a moment while I struggle to respond. This is beyond all the cliches of empathy. There seems something ghoulishly intimate and premeditated about this particular torture - the pseudo-surgical instrument: the silver hook, gleaming malevolent in its dish.

"Jesus, Henry. I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea." I pat his shoulder inadequately.

On my last day in Robert Mugabe's Zimbabwe, Henry drives me to the airport in his battered pick-up truck. On the way, we stop off at the wild grounds of a Catholic convent on the south-western edge of the city. Among the boulders and trees, Gift Konjana sits in the "agreement circle", with eight other torture survivors, working out the rules of engagement by which they will share their stories. After this, they will each retreat to their own tree to reflect on their personal journeys, and pick out a totem for the exercise - it could be a pod, a seed, a twig, a handful of earth - that they will use to represent themselves. Then they will join the "trauma circle", where they will share their horror stories with one another. And finally, they will try to help one another wrestle to rebuild their shattered minds, their self-worth.

Gift Konjana Former PE teacher Gift Konjana works for Tree of Life, a survivors' group for torture victims: 'I am still someone. A human being. There is still a reason for me to live. I can still be something in society.' Photograph: Peter Godwin

Konjana, 39, a handsome, muscular, former physical education teacher, is a facilitator for Tree of Life, a self-help organisation trying to assist Zimbabwe's legion of tortured to heal themselves, as no one else seems interested in helping them. He has been tortured himself. All the facilitators have - it's a job requirement.

"I was suicidal when I came to Tree of Life," he says. Then at the workshop, "I began to see that, like a tree that has been through droughts, fires, limb-cutting, I too could survive. Like a tree, which still gives fruit and shelter to birds and insects and man. I can also do that, I can fend for my family. I am still someone. A human being. There is still a reason for me to live. I can still be something in my society.

"And at the end," says Gift, "we have a ritual - we discard our totems - burn them or bury them or throw them over our shoulder without looking back. It's about starting anew."

The group is singing now, in harmony, a song with the chorus "You are just like God", and each time, they add the name of a circle member. Their voices rise, soft among the balancing boulders, as they sit in their circle of hard-back chairs, struggling to heal themselves, because no one else will.

Last Wednesday was the second anniversary of the signing of the treaty that brought about Zimbabwe's so-called "unity government" in which Robert Mugabe was supposed to share power with his opposition, while the country transitioned to democracy. But in that time, few of the agreement's required benchmarks for political reform have been achieved. The military remain highly partisan, as do the courts, and the police. The independent media remain hobbled. The feared intelligence service, the CIO, is still completely unregulated. And around the country, Mugabe's men frequently break up and intimidate the public consultations that are supposed to lead to a referendum on a new constitution, and internationally supervised elections.

And in those two years, not a single person has been brought to justice for any of the thousands and thousands of atrocities - the assaults and rapes, the abductions and torture and house burnings - committed by Mugabe's men during that terrible time in 2008, the time that the survivors called The Fear.

Extracted from The Fear: the Last Days of Robert Mugabe by Peter Godwin to be published by Picador 1 October


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