‘How we escaped Rhodesian’ trap at Beira Airport’

26 Aug, 2016 - 00:08 0 Views
‘How we escaped Rhodesian’ trap at Beira Airport’

The ManicaPost

Freedom Mutanda and Sifelani Tonje

Alot has been written about how the Rhodesians had spies planted within the nationalist ranks and how some of the sellouts’ shenanigans brought untold bloodshed in places such as Nyadzonia, Tembwe, Mukushi and Freedom Camps among many places.

Our unsung hero of the week, Zivai Magamba, relates how in 1975, his group nearly boarded an enemy plane that would have flown him straight to Salisbury Prison and he would have been sentenced to death as the regime’s judiciary would have used the draconian Law and Order Maintenance Act or The Suppression of Communism Act to hang the comrades who were on their way to Nachingweya, Tanzania, for a training stint.

Freedom Mutanda and Sifelani Tonje took their time to interview Retired Major Adonis Peisai Chitore, whose nom de guerre is Zivai Magamba (ZM), at his home in Chipinge and the following are excerpts of the interview with The Manica Post (MP):

MP: Take us back to life in Rhodesia for you Cde Zivai Magamba.

ZM: For me, Rhodesia was just another country whose white racist government led by Ian Douglas Smith treated the African as a second class citizen.

My father told us how the Chipangayi farmers in Middle Sabi treated the African as their junior brothers and sisters.

We were not members of a middle class family since our existence revolved around making baskets and other paraphernalia from ilala.

We travelled long distances to sell the ilala paraphernalia in order to get money for the basics. In Middle Sabi, the notorious mugwazo, where African workers were given a specific portion of land to weed using hoes, made them feel rejected in their own country.

It was kumugwazo that many men and women went to in order to eke out a living. I remember one specific incident when a local boy taught the white man a lesson.

MP: Tell us about the incident.

ZM: Unganai, a local boy, failed to drive the cattle well and the dip tank attendant, a white man, said,’’ ngaiuye ibate mombe yayo.’’ Unganai did so; he did not know that those words were a way of drawing him close to the white man.

In an instant, the dip tank attendant cut him midriff with a sjambok. He winced in pain but not before the officer kicked him in the groin and Unganai doubled over.

Unganai did the unexpected; he caught the Boer unawares; he felled him with an uppercut and stomped on him before he could get a hold on his rifle.

Without warning, he disappeared. Some black policemen came later to make our lives hell but Unganai had already gone ostensibly to join the boys. I realised the white man was vulnerable after all.

In 1975, when I was in Grade 6, I was among a group of people who were force marched to attend a hastily arranged meeting where the Rhodesian soldiers spoke to us.

MP: What did they say? When were you born?

ZM: I was born in 1958 and started school when I was 11. At the meeting, the white soldiers gloated that in the Chesa area, they had killed Marongorongo, a terrorist and if anyone wished to join the terrorists, it would spell doom to his/her family.

They said, “gandanga inouraya mai vako, yotora mukadzi wako”.

The vicious looking faces of those soldiers sent a chill down my spine but I wondered what it was to be a gandanga.

The white soldiers went on and on about the dangers of communism and how we must never ever allow that ideology to dictate life in Rhodesia.

MP: When did you decide to cross over and join the war effort? What made you do so?

ZM: One of my teachers, Mr Hlahla, always talked about the nationalists and why it was important to have self-determination.

He got arrested and we resolved to go to Mozambique. Mr Hlahla was said to be a recruiter but after his arrest, we could not go to him to help us join the comrades who by now wreaked havoc in the countryside.

Some Rimbi, Mwacheta and Masimbe boys had skipped the border and we wanted to follow suit.

On August 2 1975, I joined Albert and Robert Mazibiye, Crodwell Mbeure, Maxwell and Military Jeza, Morgan Mudyanembwa, Verna Mfote and Thelma Matyei and we went to Chikwekwete, a Frelimo Camp, just across Mozambique where we met those who had gone earlier.

MP: How did you go for military training seeing that you were 17 at the time?

ZM: We met Cdes Robert Mugabe and Edgar Tekere at Machazi Holding Camp, who urged us to follow in the footsteps of Cde Amos Tsana, a trained cadre.

The two leaders urged us to get military training for the enemy understood the language of the gun.

Although we were the pioneers at Chibawawa, my comrades and I had our eyes on the ball — to get trained and liberate Zimbabwe.

Out there, life was tough. We practiced “chirenje’’, where we got food from the povo and at times, we would hide food in pillows for days. Thus, when a Dodge truck came, I heaved a huge sigh of relief after it was announced that it had come to take cadres for military training.

My name was not called. They used our war names in calling out the names that should go for military training. I responded to Mabhunu Muchapera when the name was called. Apparently, the real Mabhunu Muchapera was not there and had gone on an errand with the vatoto.

I hopped into the truck and never looked back. He would get his own chance one day but for now I was en-route to the training base.

MP: There is a twist to your story. Can you shade more light on it?

ZM: Yes. We travelled from Chibawawa to Beira and the excitement was palpable.

We were on the verge of disillusionment after we realised that training would not be at the place and timetable we thought it would. That disillusionment could have turned into despair if the Dodge did not come just in time. Nevertheless, we reached Beira.

It was my first time to see such an expanse of blue water that went as far as the eye could see.

Interestingly, there was a horizon in the sea. Our commanders told us we would go by air and off we went to Beira Airport.

An airplane bearing a Mozambican insignia waited for us. In our excitement and youthful exuberance, we dashed to board it.

At that moment, an identical aeroplane landed and Frelimo security details stopped us from boarding the air plane; they had arrived in the nick of time.

If we had boarded the first plane, we would have been flown straight to Rhodesia. Perhaps, we would have been killed but we will never know because the Mozambican security system saved the day.

MP: You are saying a Rhodesian plane was able to land at Beira Airport and wanted to hoodwink you? How could word have gone out that you were going to Tanzania comrade? It is unbelievable.

ZM: As I said earlier on, during the war, many things happened to stop the trajectory of the liberation struggle.

For a whole regiment or two to be captured like that would have signalled to the outside world that the Rhodesians were on top of the situation.

Fortunately, the alert security system carried the day.

Mostly, the Rhodesian Selous Scouts and the paratroopers could have carried out that assignment. The Rhodesians were captured and we went on our way to Nachingweya.

MP: Briefly, what are your memories of Nachingweya? When did you go to the front?

ZM: We were treated to tea and pao (bread) at Mtwara Airport and then went to Nachingweya. As I alluded earlier on, we were the pioneers at the camp. It was an open ground devoid of shelter save for the buildings that housed our instructors.

I remember the Indian instructor, Gimussi and the regiment commander whose toothy grin as he barked instructions was legendary.

Cde Albert, the regiment commander would say to us, “. . . shamwari, train hard, Zimbabwe kure”.

We would laugh but we knew he meant well.

MP: You trained for six months and you went to the front?

ZM: After the training we went back to Mozambique in 1976, where I met General Josiah Magama Tongogara.

He talked in his painful stammer and urged us to fight and dislodge tyranny.

He said, “. . . pfuti take, kumusha, chikafu kuvabereki, muhondo mune zvakawanda, munofiwa. Muchapandukirwa asi pamberi nehondo.’ We met him at Mubanana.

Despite his heavy stammer, you could feel an aura of power, determination that came with experience and wisdom.

Cde Tendai Chida led us to the front.

I was in the Monomotapa sector, Mutambara detachment, Melsetter. Among us were Cdes Karikoga, Didwell, Advance and Chimera. We arrived in the Melsetter area around February or early March.

At that time we had good cover as the green foliage of natural region 1 would be in full bloom.

Lianas and ferns gave us the much needed hide-outs. I was under section commander Cde Paradzayi who was deputised by Cde Joe.

Initially, we targeted soft hits such as isolated farms and we moved in groups of five on reconnaissance. We never attempted conventional warfare although we were competent in it too.

We had learnt a lesson from the Zimunya battle that claimed Cde Saul Sadza. Rhodesian soldiers had their camp at what we now know as Lydia Chimonyo. The Nhedziwa, Chayamiti, Shinja and Matendeudzwa areas were ideal for hiding because of either the forests or the rocky parts.

All the same, we continued to conscientise the people based on the national grievances we had learnt during our training days.

MP: Cde, in your reconnaissance, surely you had contacts with the Rhodesian army. Tell us about some of these contacts.

ZM: I remember 25 December 1977. That day, I escaped death by a whisker. Hakusi kungwara kuti takapinda mu independent Zimbabwe tiri vapenyu.

Next week, don’t miss your copy of the favourite family paper, as Cde Zivai Magamba takes you through the gory details of actual fighting.

For your views and suggestions, please free to call, SMS or WhatsApp me on 0777582734 or email me at [email protected]

 

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