I was 27 when I was called up to protect God and Country from the twin evils of Communism and African Nationalism.  God had recently become a Born Again Christian, and Country was a chartered company called Rhodesia.

My first experience of war was the basic training camp at Llewellyn Barracks outside Bulawayo: it was 8 weeks of hell.  The drill sergeant kept threatening to ram his wand of office up our “dung funnels”.  I was luckier than many because, with my short back-and-sides, my pencil-thin moustache, and my tilted beret, I bore a resemblance to Monty of Alamein, under whose overall command our drill sergeant had seen active service, in a war he sentimentally described as The Last Effort.  Whenever he looked at me standing stiffly to attention on the parade ground, his eyes misted over.

There were three categories of so-called Territorials: A, B, and S.  The As were one hundred percent fit for combat, the Bs had minor disabilities like colour-blindness, while the Ss were hopeless cases and were there for one reason only: they were white, and all white males from the ages of 18 to 60 had to be called up.  I was categorized B.  I had two minor disabilities: I was short-sighted and I was a school teacher.  According to our trainers, from the Camp Commander down to the lance corporals, teachers had no skills and were fit for nothing but cannon fodder.  Consequently we became riflemen; and it was with my rifle, my “wife”, that the real troubles began.

Part of our training was a competition on the shooting range, which involved the entire barracks.  I came second last with a score of 13 out of 300.  The recruit, who came last, an S-category, threw an epileptic fit on automatic fire.  If the moon had been a target he would have achieved quite a good score.  Coming second last was bad enough but some of my rounds went into the target of the guy next to me, and he came first with an incredible score of 340 out of 300.  The soldiers running the competition were so disgusted with me and the epileptic that they made us run, on the spot, with rifles held aloft, until we collapsed.

Even the epileptic beat me in the competition to dismantle and reassemble our weapons in as fast a time as possible.  The winning time was measured in seconds; I was at it for nearly an hour, and the final result was something more akin to an agricultural implement than a weapon of war – and there were bits left over, one of which was stuffed into my ear by a disgusted instructor.

My punishment was even worse the day I asked one of our trainers, who used variations on the word “fuck” to punctuate his lectures, which knots we should use when tying our white surrender flags to the barrels of our FNs (automatic rifles manufactured in Belgium).  My heart wasn’t in this war.  I was too old to be taken in by the crude propaganda of the Rhodesian government. I knew that I was on the side of the baddies.

After basic training I was called up every school holidays and deployed to various hot spots.  I stuck it out for two years then left for England with a hundred Rhodesian dollars (worth fifty pounds sterling) in my pocket and a knitted tea cosy on my head.  There I applied unsuccessfully for political asylum.  After all, I hadn’t made the slightest attempt to assassinate Ian Smith or to down a Viscount, or to overturn the concrete picnic tables at designated lay bys.

Most of my time on call ups was spent digging bunkers or getting drunk on warm beer; but I was involved in one contact, near a post on the Mozambique border called Vila Salazar.  I have described this contact in poetry (confessional) and in prose (mocking) and I reproduce the poem below.  The contradiction of being a European-African has resulted in my speaking with voices that seem, and might well be, contradictory.  I’m no Billy Budd, in whose nature there was neither the will nor the “sinister dexterity” of satire.

When our section went out on patrol or to set up an ambush, we left our grenades behind so that we could fill our kidney pouches with quarter jacks of cheap brandy or cane spirit.  Then we would find a “safe” spot, usually half way up a koppie, disconnect our radio (it seldom worked, anyway), and sip our way into oblivion.  We were sitting ducks.

Once our platoon commander decided to accompany us and that was the closest I came, in the War of Liberation, to being shot.  Some “terrs” had been spotted in the area and it was our job to track them down.  The platoon commander, in great excitement, told us to look for a certain pattern of shoe sole favoured by the enemy.  For hours in the sweltering heat we searched the rock-hard ground for these prints.  I was fed up.  I saw a cow-hoof print in a gulley and called out: “Sarge, I’ve got their trail!”  Would you believe it, he ordered the rest of the section to leopard-crawl towards me.  “Look!” I whispered, pointing at the cow-hoof print.  The platoon commander stared at it for a second or two, and then he stood up, cocked his rifle, let off the safety catch, and took aim at me.  The next few seconds passed for an eternity.   I won’t bore you with the details of my punishment.  Alexander Pope once said: “Those who are ashamed of nothing else are so of being ridiculous.”

Read the poem . . . Spoils of war

I have heard of a number of households in high density suburbs that have received fixed telephone bills of up to USD1,500 and had their phones disconnected. A guy told me the other day he got a bill for USD125 and also had his phone disconnected.

We get pronouncements from ministers in charge of state utilities assuring consumers that they will never be cut off from these essential services and yet these reports continue with consumers being clueless about recourse.

Electricity, water, telecommunications etc appear to be riddled with odious political machinations one has to wonder if these directives issued by the ministers mean anything to the utility administrators.

These directives appear to be simply ignored and if consumers do not have the protection of the ministers, where then do they turn for relief when their phones are cut off because of these ridiculous charges?

Everyone knows there is no Zimbabwean worker who earns a USD1,000 and we know civil servants get a measly USD100, and these are the folks who back then enjoyed the so-called mod-cons (fixed phones included) so how the heck are they expected to pay a USD1,500 phone bills.

It will take them a cool 15 months to settle that bill and this means in the meantime they won’t be eating anyting or paying any other bills! All this for a telephone? Only in Zimbabwe!!

These families will never again have a telephone in their homes, and if it is folks who had stuff like dial-up internet connection, they are then forced to patronise internet cafes where they will pay for a service they rightly should be accessing in the comfort of their homes.

Not only that, the inconvenience is inconceivable in this age where virtually every family has a member living and working outside the country who cannot get through the frustrating mobile phones.

Fixed phones then have been a godsend for these families as calls from abroad get through without any headaches, but who is listening. This is not an appeal for the service provider to ignore defaulting rate payers but rather simply to review these outrageous bills.

As long these rates are not revised, it’s a sure return to the Stone Age.

Tendai Dumbutshena recently wrote an impassioned article for The Financial Gazette in which he suggests that “Tsvangirai, excited beyond measure by his status as Prime Minister, has exceeded his brief by sanitising the person of President Mugabe.”

Tendai also believes that “there is no point trying to make out a case for the MDC-T to pull out. It will simply not happen. The comforts and status of office are too attractive to resist. No price is too high to keep them.”

The article ends pessismitically with these words . . .

While MDC-T leaders are flying all over the place begging for money and lobbying for the removal of sanctions, President Mugabe is planning for the day the country goes to the polls. When that day comes the MDC-T will find that nothing has changed. The militia will still be in place. The police CIO and defence forces will still be wings of ZANU-PF. The Zimbabwe Electoral Commission or whatever body replaces it will be under ZANU-PF’s commissariat. The ZBC will still enjoy a monopoly and be staffed by ZANU-PF apparatchiks. Certain magistrates and judges will be on standby to deal with cases assigned to them by the Minister of Justice. Filthy prisons and CIO jails will still be there to welcome opponents of ZANU-PF deemed dangerous. If all this fails ZANU-PF will not accept the results and the MDC-T will go crying to SADC for intervention. Enter another inclusive government under President Mugabe as head.

As Tendai points out it is all very predictable and depressing, but what are the other options?

Mgcini, a Kubatana subscriber, shares his thoughts on the constitution and the Government of National Unity . . .

In 2000 I voted NO to the proposed draft constitution, the one Jonathan Moyo tried diligently to sell to us. If I had known more about the new constitution I would have voted NO anyway, but I did not and I voted NO because the opposition was pushing for a NO vote. It was a stupid and uninformed decision. We were used by the opposition to render useless a noble process known as a referendum. I vowed back then to diligently look at all available facts before blindly following bogus leadership. It is in this kind of spirit that I find myself not belonging to any political party. None of the leadership, especially Morgan Tsvangirai and Robert Mugabe has made it about the country, Zimbabwe as opposed to personal advancement. The so-called Government of National Unity, Transitional government or Inclusive government as some would prefer to call it is an insult to our intelligence and integrity as a people. If it is truly an inclusive government, where is Simba Makoni, Jonathan Moyo, Nkosana Moyo, John Makumbe, Margaret Dongo to name, but a few. Robert Mugabe, Morgan Tsvangirai and one professor of robotics think Zimbabwe is theirs to do as they please with. Why should they behave like children and treat Zimbabwe as a piece of candy they are squabbling over. What does the ordinary Zimbabwean know about the new government and what it’s mandate is? The teachers are on, or have threatened to strike because they are not informed and they do not know what their role is in this circus. Instead of spending money on luxury vehicles and expensive retreats, the new government should  produce information packets and have public forums to inform the people and get the people’s take on things. Are we so feeble minded that three clueless people should do everything for us?

The Government of National Unity should stop talking and start acting.

The unity government has the power to remove Aippa, license new broadcasters, reform the ZBC and Zimpapers to make them relevant to the needs of the people. These are the reforms that people are looking for. – Rashweat Mukundu, Programme Specialist: Media Monitoring and Research Media Institute of Southern Africa (Misa) Regional Secretariat

On Monday lunchtime I landed at Harare Airport and the South African Airways pilot made an announcement saying that passengers should remain in their seats so that the Korean (North) delegation could leave the plane first. There was a whole lot of rumbling in response to this from passengers up and down the aircraft. Then the pilot spoke again and asked passengers to exit out the back door so that the Korean delegation could skip out the front and along the red carpet all on their own. The rumbling grew louder. Another announcement and we were told that stairs for the back door couldn’t be found so we’d get our turn on the red carpet after all. The pilot apologised, and so he should have. What sort of crap is this? Why should the Korean delegation get any special treatment? Come to think of it they hadn’t even bought business class tickets, so sitting cattle class like me they should have waited their turn like everyone else.

Bollocks I say.

Even bigger bollocks was the fan fare put on by the Government of National Unity . . . they rolled out Everything, not just the red carpet. And I believe that Morgan Tsvangirai and Thoko Kupe were part of the welcome party.

A text message I received on that day read

I would not like to think any member of the MDC whatever group would attend the state banquet tonight for organisers of the fifth brigade.

So who were the fifth brigade and what did they do? Here is an excerpt from a report called Breaking the Silence published by the Catholic Commission for Justice and Peace. The report discusses the atrocities in Matabeleland in the early 1980s.

In October 1980, Prime Minister Mugabe signed an agreement with the North Korean President, Kim Il Sung that they would train a brigade for the Zimbabwean army. This was soon after Mugabe had announced the need for a militia to “combat malcontents”. However, there was very little civil unrest in Zimbabwe at this time.

In August 1981, 106 Koreans arrived to train the new brigade, which Mugabe said was to be used to “deal with dissidents and any other trouble in the country”. Even by August 1981, there had been very little internal unrest. Joshua Nkomo, leader of ZAPU, asked why this brigade was necessary, when the country already had a police force to handle internal problems. He suggested Mugabe would use it to build a one party state.

Mugabe replied by saying dissidents should “watch out”, and further announced the brigade would be called “Gukurahundi”, which means the rain which washes away the chaff before the spring rains.

5 Brigade was drawn from 3500 ex-ZANLA troops at Tongogara Assembly Point. There were a few ZIPRA troops in the unit for a start, but they were withdrawn before the end of the training. It seems there were also some foreigners in the unit, possibly Tanzanians. The training of 5 Brigade lasted until September 1982, when Minister Sekeramayi announced training was complete.

The first Commander of 5 Brigade was Colonel Perence Shiri. 5 Brigade was different to all other army units, in that it was not integrated into the army. It was answerable only to the Prime Minister, and not to the normal army command structures. Their codes, uniforms, radios and equipment were not compatible with other army units. Their most distinguishing feature in the field was their red berets. 5 Brigade seemed to be a law unto themselves once in the field.

Deployment of 5 Brigade – Matabeleland North, 1983

In late January 1983, 5 Brigade was deployed in Matabeleland North. Within weeks, they had murdered more than two thousand civilians, beaten thousands more, and destroyed hundreds of homesteads. Their impact on the communities they passed through was shocking.

Most of the dead were shot in public executions, often after being forced to dig their own graves in front of family and fellow villagers. The largest number of dead in a single killing involved the deliberate shooting of 62 young men and women on the banks of the Cewale River, Lupane, on 5 March 1983. Seven survived with gunshot wounds, the other 55 died. Another way 5 Brigade killed large groups of people was to burn them alive in huts. They did this in Tsholotsho and also in Lupane.

At the same time as 5 Brigade was sent into the area, the Government had introduced a strict curfew on the region. This prevented anybody from entering or leaving the area, banned all forms of transport and prevented movement in the region from dusk to dawn. A food curfew was also in force, with stores being closed. People caught using bicycles or donkey carts were shot. No journalists were allowed near the region. This situation meant that it was very hard to get news of events out of the region, and hard to judge the truth of the early accounts. However, as some people managed to flee the area, stories of the atrocities began to spread.

Targeting civilians: during these early weeks, 5 Brigade behaved in a way that shows they had clearly been trained to target civilians. Wherever they went, they would routinely round up dozens, or even hundreds, of civilians and march them at gun point to a central place, like a school or bore-hole. There they would be forced to sing Shona songs praising ZANU-PF, at the same time being beaten with sticks. These gatherings usually ended with public executions. Those killed could be ex-ZIPRAs, ZAPU officials, or anybody chosen at random, including women. Large numbers of soldiers were involved in these events, sometimes as many as two hundred, and often forty or more.

If Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai and Deputy Thoko Kupe were part of the welcome party at Harare Airport then I’m pretty sure that they attended the state banquet as well. The thought of this made me choke – what about you? A question to ask ourselves is when do we move on and put these national injustices behind us?

After a national inquiry perhaps?