The Sunday Mail
Roger Boka
I did not know Boka until, on my return to Zimbabwe after Independence, he sought me out and introduced himself to me. He was interested, he said, in improving my image, so as to fit me for the new role I was assuming.
It was as if he had listened to Samora Machel give me one of his lectures prior to my leaving Mozambique. And (find) me out he did. I was taken to an outfitter’s and provided with three suits, several pairs of shoes, shirts, socks and ties.
When I was sacked from the party, his concern mounted, and I would find that my rates had been paid, in credit. I would receive monthly cash payments, none amounting to less than Z$800 000, which was a goodly sum in those days.
I had not known how ill he was, when one day he arrived in Mutare in his new Rolls. He had come, he said, to see his old school at Old Mutare, and he wanted me to accompany him there. He told his driver to disembark, and instructed me to drive him to the school. He said to me, “You drive very embarrassing cars.” (I was then driving a Mazda 323). “Let’s see how you like the feel of a really good car.”
He was to make presentations to the school, the church and the orphanage, and these he handed to me to give to the recipients. By the time we got back to Mutare, Boka was really very ill.
I took him to Dr Kangwende, and later he went on to the governor, Kenneth Manyonda’s home.
I did not see him again. Some time later, Tradex Marketing called to inform me that my new car was ready. What new car? I asked.
The representative replied that they had been instructed by Roger Boka to have a Mitsubishi Twin Cab delivered to me forthwith. It was a 1997 model, fully paid for. This is the car that I drive to this day.
