ZIMBABWEAN CITIZEN: ELECTION AFTERMATH
MOURNING THE LOSS OF HOPE &
SECURITY IN THE WAKE OF A SHAMELESSLY STOLEN ELECTION
I was ten
years old when my two best friends were murdered. I can describe in forensic
detail exactly what happened on the day I got the news.
I was
playing outside on an adult sized bicycle, propelling myself dangerously
forward over homemade ramps constructed from breeze bocks and bits of plank
while a cross-breed bull-terrier manically yapped and tried to shred my tyres
with her teeth. My mother called me and my siblings into the house and asked us
to sit down.
We were
expectant; the seriousness of the occasion was highly unusual and, in fact, has
never been repeated in the rest of my life. My father walked in and with a
focussed calmness I will never ever forget said, "I have bad news. There
is a possibility that [names withheld] are dead". I remember his hands
were shaking and that he lifted one of them to touch his forehead as he spoke.
And I remember that just as he said the words he looked away from us over our
heads and into the yard outside.
I, the
eldest, immediately leapt on the word "possibility"; maybe this was
not true. My father dispelled that hope quickly: we had not been officially
advised of this news, but reliable sources had seen the bodies of my two best
friends - one a year younger than me and the other a year older - and their
family members. They were all definitely dead, and they'd all been shot. We
were then asked to go outside and play while my parents readied themselves to
support the surviving members of the family through their horrendous ordeal.
I remember
standing and walking out the room. We had steps that led down to our small
yard. The verandah floor was polished red concrete shining bluntly through a
layer of dust because the sun was starting to set, and at that time of the day
light streamed over the floor and into our main living room. I was looking down
at my feet, which were bare and covered in dust up to my knees. There was a
drought at that time, and dryness and dust everywhere. My ten year
old self had nowhere to go and no idea what to do. I did not know it
immediately then, but my life had just been changed forever. The black
messenger bicycle with a carrier basket attached to the front was at the foot
of the stairs where I had dropped it. I remember standing contemplating it, but
knew that to get back on and ride would be wrong. I walked past it. There was a
tree in our yard where I had hammered myself a seat from two bits of wood at
the very top of its branches. That's where I took myself.
I can
distinctly remember sitting, crouched over these planks high above the ground,
with my knees to my forehead, my ten year old mind completely ill-equipped to
process the profundity of what I had just been told. Up until a year previously
I had played with these children several times a week. I wish I could tell you
that I cried with a terrible grief, but I did not: at ten, although I knew I
should cry, the news was so horrific that I was completely incapable of assimilating
the experience into my life experience.
As an adult
now, I fully understand why when we see these terrible shootings at a school,
or a child abduction somewhere, the news is almost always accompanied by
information that child psychologists are working with the children to help them
cope. I didn't have that. In fact, most of Zimbabwe's children who experience
hell and hardship are not supported by experts even today.
So what did
I do? With the intensity of a confused and frightened ten year old I made my
murdered best friends a promise: I promised that I would never ever forget
them. But I also knew, as a ten year old, that I had made many promises and
pledges that I almost instantly forget and I was fearful that I would betray
them and forget to remember them. That seemed to me to be a terrible terrible
thing if I did that.
So what did
I do to avoid that terrible possibility? The very next day I formally
remembered them: I deliberately re-called to my mind their faces and things we
had done together. I ran my mind over the details of our times shared together.
I did this again the day after that, and I have done it for every single day
after that for thirty years. My ritual of remembering has taken on a form of
compulsion. Decades later this memory is as fresh and as much a part of me as
my own heart beating in my chest. I remember them, every single day.
The memory
became more and more important. I did not know it at the time but my two best
friends were the first people I would know who would be murdered. Two seats in
my class over the course of the year emptied as two classmates were killed. One
of those classmates died along with her entire family and other people in her
community as well, in a massacre. I added their names to my memory.
I am
slightly uncomfortable about my daily ritual: I know that anyone reading this
probably thinks I need some form of psychological help, so I don't talk of it.
I find it painful to write about now. But I feel that these are the only
important words left in me that I can share in the wake of the elections we
have just had.
We all carry
scars deep in us: no one in Zimbabwe has emerged emotionally or psychologically
intact under Zanu PF rule.
The long
struggle for freedom, justice and democracy
I am an
'activist' - whatever that means - because I carry a memory of two smiling
children who knew nothing but safety and joy in their lives until the terrible
day they were murdered. My promise made the direction of my life inevitable.I am telling
you this to make it clear that all the reasons Zimbabweans have been given for
why people fight against Mugabe and Zanu PF are lies.
I am not an
activist because I am an enemy of the state. I am not an activist because I
have a hero-complex. My head is not filled with Western propaganda and my
desire is not to see our nation turned into a colonialist's playground.
Contrary to The Herald's proclamations that Sokwanele is part of the MDC-T,
this is not true: I am not a member of any political party and I would not be a
part of Sokwanele unless it was strictly non-partisan. I have criticisms of
decisions the MDCs have made, because I always measure what they do against the
profundity of my memory, and the crass day to day of political negotiations
never measures up.
When I
remember my friends I am frequently struck by the peculiar fact that I lived
and they didn't. The only difference between their deaths and my life is that I
happened to not be in the wrong place at the wrong time - specifically - I was
not in an area where Mugabe's fifth brigade were operating on a given day in
the early 1980s, murdering and torturing thousands of civilians, including
children.
I will never
be rich and I will never be famous but I am blessed, because, given my life
experiences in Zimbabwe, I am lucky. We were poor when I was a child, but my
father's drive to work hard - and the good fortune his business succeeded - has
meant he and my mother ensured that I received a good secondary and tertiary
education. My country does not educate its children to even a fraction of what
my father gifted me.
I am healthy
because he was able to find the means to heal me when I was sick: my country
fails its citizens on this accord to. My father has done for his family what my
country should be striving to do for its citizens. But that has not happened:
priorities under Zanu PF, like power for the sake of power, gross corruption
and incompetence and patronage, have stripped any hope of a full rich future
away from most of Zimbabwe's youth.
In all
respects I am an unremarkable and completely ordinary Zimbabwean. The only
thing that divides me from those that have suffered through famine, torture and
murder is luck and chance that easily translate into privilege. It is a
privilege that sits uncomfortably with me because my luck is always
counterbalanced in my mind by the awful fate of my two friends. I cannot revel
in good-fortune without always being aware of loss and absence and pain.
'Luck and
chance' are not a strong foundation for our future. It is not acceptable that
some have a privileged existence while others do not. I believe with every
fibre of my being that we need a bedrock of fundamental good principles that
provide guarantees of security for everyone: we need laws that are upheld,
human rights that are respected, freedoms that are protected. And we need a
government that makes basic needs a priority: education, health, employment. Every single
person I have engaged with in the fourteen years I have been doing this work
has a similar motivation. Yes, there will always be 'big-heads' in any
political struggle, but most have strived to build a better future for
Zimbabwe. Most are driven by a desire for justice and freedom for Zimbabwean
people. To do good.
And I
believe that the majority of Zimbabweans know this and, because they share my
history in this country, they also understand why so many people have struggled
in a way no person living outside Zimbabwe can even begin to understand. They
will also understand the devastating sense of anger these same people will be
feeling today when they are force-fed a fraudulent result that mocks everything
good and decent they have strived for.
These elections
If these
elections were won by Zanu PF freely and fairly in a clean democratic contest
then I would respect them. If you believe in democracy as powerfully as I do
then you are honour-bound to 'take the rough with the smooth'. A Zanu PF
victory would sit uneasy with me given my personal life and their track record,
but I would respect and accept the result. But this
result is sour and unacceptable. I believe that even the most ardent Zanu PF
supporter knows that this election was stolen through fraud and cheating, and
not secured by the will of the people. An Al Jazeera reporter commented that he
had driven all around Harare after the results were announced looking for signs
of celebration from Zanu PF supporters and there were none.
He tweeted:
"Are people waiting for Mugabe to issue a decree: celebrate!" There
were none, because no one voted for Zanu PF or Mugabe in the numbers ZEC claims
are true. It made me aware of what a bizarre situation we are in: a
manufactured political context where the vast majority of the people in our
country are forced to accept control and authority from those they do not want. And the
grief and fear of an uncertain future - which recent history tells us is going
to be unpleasant - is palpable among all of us. People who freely talk about
politics to me are silent. They don't want to discuss the results because the
obvious question 'What now?' is one that only raises fear and uncertainty. We
are all so damn tired of feeling fearful and unsure of our futures.
One person,
blessed to have his exams in the last five years said on Twitter in a message
directed to David Coltart - former Minister of Education: "I wrote my O
level and A level in a perfect way, no hassle, results came in time, THANK
YOU....now I am worried of the future". We worry about the future because
our past lives, under Zanu PF rule, were so terrible. A short five
years ago every Zimbabwean was trapped in a daily struggle just to survive. The
list of what we endured is simply incredible - no one can begin to understand
how awful it was unless they had lived here. We collectively experienced one of
the world's worst examples of hyper-inflation; businesses dying on a daily
basis; completely empty supermarket shelves and consequently wide-spread
starvation; one of the worst cholera epidemics the world has seen as a result
of collapsing infrastructure; roads strewn with potholes; divided families as a
result of a forced exodus to neighbouring countries; the total collapse of our
education and health systems; thousands of businesses and homes deliberately
destroyed by ZANU PF government through Murambatsvina; unemployment that is
close to 95%; and, on top of all that, grotesque unimaginable violence and
torture.
Surely any
sane reasonable person can see that it is illogical and inconceivable that a
nation that has endured all that would voluntarily elect the party, a amer five
years later, the same party that brought us all to our knees and made our lives
a living hell? Or does everyone really think Zimbabweans are that stupid? What is more
incredible is the result that Robert Mugabe awarded himself: five years ago the
presidential results were delayed for weeks in the wake of a national revolt
against his rule. We all knew why - the 'books were being cooked' behind the
scenes. The subsequent manufactured results of 31 March resulted in a
Presidential run-off, the only chance Mugabe had of still clinging onto power.
And the grotesque violence that preceded the run-off was a desperate attempt to
literally bludgeon an already brutalised nation into allowing him to stay on.
It is simply
absurd and farcical that that same nation would now peacefully and legitimately
award him a massive 61% victory, and his party a landslide 2/3 majority in
parliament - enough, you note, to allow Zanu PF to reverse all the legal gains
that we voted for as a nation in 2008. Zanu PF
would like the world to believe that those legal gains, including our brand new
constitution, are things the people have suddenly decided they do not want. Zanu PF
would like the world to believe that the liberation message combined with hate
and loathing of western nations has suddenly became appealing in 2013, when
exactly those same messages were massively rejected in 2008.
They would
like the world to accept that a very very elderly man who makes very long
rambling speeches and seldom refers to concrete policies, is suddenly seen as a
viable solution to our country's substantial woes, when just five years ago we
demanded someone else be given a chance. Zanu PF would like us to believe this
improbability when it is a biological fact that Mugabe is only going to get
older and more frail, and at a much faster rate given his advanced years. Zanu PF want
the world to believe that even though things become palpably better for
Zimbabweans in the last five years - not all of us, but enough to give real
hope - that the vast incredible majority of us would suddenly wilfully choose
to give Zanu PF the benefit of the doubt again, and that we would all chance a
return to what was pure unadulterated hell.
A landslide
victory is simply not plausible. To endorse it as credible or fair would be an
outrage against a whole population, and a total disregard for the meaning of
democracy. Zimbabweans
are not stupid. This election has been stolen. It is an abomination of
democracy and a violation of everything sacrosanct to people who believe in the
right for people to determine their own futures. In Muzarabani North - a
hot-spot area for violence in 2008 - the result speaks for itself: in 2008
nearly 4,000 people voted for MDC-T, but in 2013 only 600 people did. Zanu PF
would like us to believe that 85% of the people there suddenly saw the light
and saw their party as the future solution. This is ridiculous.
What now?
We received
an email in the wake of the results from one Zimbabwean who said: "The
burden I have on my shoulders and the pain I feel in my heart are so heavy I
was forced to kneel down and pray because I could not think of anything else
better to do."
The words
"could not think of anything better to do" will resonate with all
Zimbabweans. A despairing sense of helplessness that I know the majority of
Zimbabweans are feeling today.
Our
immediate future now seems to lie in the hands of carefully selected teams of
election observers - ones that Zanu PF trusts to turn a blind eye to their
crimes against democracy and our people. They arrived with a small handful of
observers who, as one activist said, 'didn't seem to stray too far from
tar-roads'. In the rural areas, where we know people were being forced to vote
with assistance (i.e. someone making sure they voted the right way), where we
know peoples' names were checked off by headmen as they entered the stations,
where outsiders were bussed in to swell the vote and others refused the right
to vote on spurious reasons - there was no one from SADC or the AU present to
see this.
Those who
did see and hear are our own local community: the Zimbabwe Election Support
Network (ZESN), for example, deployed 7000 observers around Zimbabwe and they
and other civic organisations are horrified by the degree of fraud that took
place. But Zanu PF, a party that rails against colonialism and outside
influences on Zimbabwe's sovereignty, a party that demands 'Zimbabwe for
Zimbabweans', will insist that the myopic view of SADC and the AU observer
groups is given priority over the words of local Zimbabweans who were there to
see and hear clearly.
"Provide
evidence", these people will demand. But that heaps yet another level of
injustice on us: there is evidence, but who cares? Our courts had another two
Zanu PF loyal judges packed into them - coincidentally before the new
constitution was signed to avoid the rigour that the new law would have imposed
on selection. In the weeks leading up to these ridiculously rushed polls, the
court has shown that the rule of law is something to be regarded or disregarded
based on political objectives. Someone quipped: 'they use it as a 'rough
guide'. Evidence means nothing in this context.
So where does that leave
Zimbabweans?
It leaves us
in torment.
We need
every international body there is to listen to us and hear our plea. We need
them to demand that the will of the people is upheld and that these elections
are looked at critically in the full context of the months leading up to the
polls as well as the full details of injustices all around Zimbabwe.
The voters'
roll needs to be forensically examined, and Zanu PF's association with the
murky Israeli organisation Nikuv - operating secretly through the Ministry of
Defence - needs to be questioned at the highest level by governments that care
about democracy and the future of Zimbabwe. How the hell can any business set
itself up to earn money by depriving an entire nation of a future?
Zimbabweans
need to do what they can, even if it is small, to make an impact now. We need
the world to hear our voices. We need to make sure that those who can do
something, hear us and believe that we in turn want to be heard. Someone on
twitter posted a tweet that made me smile for the first time in days: something
to the effect of, 'If you stand with your back too close to the fire, then you
will have sit with blisters on your bum'.
Those of us
who do nothing, who are usually apathetic about politics and devolve
accountability to politicians and civics need to now do what they can. Turning
your back on the fire of injustice raging around us will not prevent you from
suffering pain. There is a
website set up where civics are asking people to submit everything they know
about fraud and irregularities that took place in this election. This is
important information. Please visit the website. Please provide as much detail
as you can about the things you know. Do not keep this information for
disgruntled chatter in the supermarket queue.
I have
attached an e-card to this mailing. Please download it and forward it to
everyone you know and ask that they use the details to do the same. If you do
not want to visit the site, email us at info@sokwanele.com and we will collate
and forward the information on. Tell us exactly where it happened, what
happened, which constituency, and the names of people involved if you know
them. Detail is important. Please speak
to the people you work with or who work for you, and get their experiences as
well. Note them down as well. Get the detail and add it to the website.
I am asking
Zanu PF supporters to do this too. I believe that many of you will feel ashamed
of the way this 'victory' has been secured, and uncomfortable living among the
majority who you know wanted a different government. I believe that you may
have a philosophical view that ties you to Zanu PF - I respect that - but that
you wish this view to prevail democratically and freely, and you wish to win
the conviction of the majority. That has not happened, and the imposition of
injustice will only drive people further away.
An
activist's job is to bolster spirits, to prevent people from falling into a
deep depression, and to chivvy them on with a positive message that calls them
to engage. I cannot do that today: like you I am deeply worried and fearful and
I am angry. I am most
afraid that apathy and a lack of faith in the international community -
understandable given the years of white-washing the region has done over our
previously rigged polls - will allow this farce of an election to fizzle into
the accepted status quo without so much as a whimper. I am
imploring you, please, do not read this mailing and then do nothing. I am
imploring the governments around the world as well to please, do what you can.
Zimbabwe's
future right now is almost too awful to contemplate. But this morning, when my
mind once again automatically turned to tread its familiar path to my murdered
friends, I couldn't help but think everyone who has suffered so much in the
past deacdes, and of those who will suffer more under Zanu PF rule. I felt I
needed to write this: I felt I needed to try, and I want to encourage all of
you to try as well.
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