The Sunday Mail
Leroy Dzenga
Senior Reporter
IN the Shona language, wisdom is carried through maxims.
Maxims are general rules of life anchored on fundamental truths presented in a near poetic way.
They have to be simultaneously memorable and applicable.
One of the most popular maxims is “Chengaose, manhanga, hapana risina mhodzi.”
The wisdom behind this priceless piece of philosophical reflection is that nothing or no one is entirely worthless.
It is indigenous knowledge reminding of diligence in acknowledging everyone’s role whenever something monumental — like national Independence — has been achieved.
Over the years, Zimbabwe’s war story has been somewhat incomplete.
In the 42 years of the country’s Independence, there has been sufficient honour accorded to war veterans, but comparatively lower status has been extended to war collaborators popularly known as the mujibhas and chimbwidos.
Their exclusion from war discourse is well documented.
Professor Charles Pfukwa, in his doctoral thesis, bemoaned how mujibhas and chimbwidos became obscure at the end of the war.
“These are the civilian youth who supported the guerrillas and bore the brunt of the war in the operational areas. The chimbwidos were the girls in their teens that cooked meals for the guerrillas and washed and mended their clothes. The mujibhas were the young boys who gathered intelligence information for the guerrillas and acted as guides. They simply disappeared in 1980 and there are few records of their names,” writes Prof Pfukwa.
His reflections mirror those shared by Dr Fay Chung in her seminal text, Re-living the Second Chimurenga, in which she explains how prominent being a war collaborator was during the peak of the war.
Opining how Bishop Abel Muzorewa fell out of political favour during his days as Prime Minister, Dr Chung explains how local families due to their children’s widespread participation in the war, despised anything that appeared to support the settler regime.
“. . . almost every black family now had a son or daughter in the liberation struggle, working either as chimbwidos or mujibhas, the young girls and boys who helped guerrillas within the country, or as freedom fighters themselves,” she writes.
The Ministry of Defence and War Veterans Affairs noted the anomaly, and kick-started the process to vet and register those who contributed to the Second Chimurenga, but did not necessarily go to the front.
“205 753 applicants registered for consideration. It was quite evident that the largest numbers came from war collaborators and also non-combatant cadres,” Defence and War Veterans Affairs Minister Oppah Muchinguri-Kashiri told the media at the launch of the programme last month.
From then, there was a decentralised process to vet war collaborators, authenticating their stories and testing their veracity.
One mujibha, Sekuru Gabriel Murambiwa (88), described how his role in the liberation struggle saw him putting his daily job as a driver at risk.
He was a politically curious figure and found himself moving letters between the ZAPU leaders in the early 1960s.
He was moving letters between an incarcerated former vice president Cde Joshua Nkomo and his two deputies, Cdes James Chikerema and George Nyandoro who were on the outside.
“When ZAPU was banned, Cde Nkomo and other leaders escaped and went to Zambia. As youths we remained behind continuing underground sabotage operations and politicising the people. Later Cde Nkomo came back into the country and he got arrested as soon as he got to the airport. He was taken to Gonakudzingwa. I then decided to go and join the liberation struggle and so I went to Zambia, Lusaka,” he said.
He wanted to fight for his country’s liberation, literally, but was taken aback when he was given a role which required more mental dexterity than brawn.
“In Zambia I was welcomed by Cdes Nyandoro and Chikerema. I told them that I had come to join the liberation struggle and I wanted to go for training, but the two comrades said they had a special task for me. They told me that they wanted me to deliver letters to Cde Nkomo who was at Gonakudzingwa,” said Sekuru Murambiwa.
He would cross borders with the letters, a crime which was tantamount to treason during the colonial days.
“I had decided to join the liberation struggle on my own and so when I was given this task, I just said this is part of fighting the struggle. I was not the cleverest looking person, so I fitted the role perfectly. You know I would get to Chirundu Border Post with Rhodesian police all over the place, but somehow they would miss the letters in my pocket. When I got to the border, the police searched my belongings, they didn’t search me and so I came into Rhodesia,” added Sekuru Murambiwa.
He said at Gonakudzingwa Prison, Nkomo’s prison conditions had been relaxed and was now allowed visitors.
“I would tell the prison guards that I have come to see the president and they would usher me to his cell. When I met Nkomo, I introduced myself and told him that I had been sent with a letter from Chikerema and Nyandoro from Zambia. Nkomo was really happy to read the letter,” said Murambiwa.
“He asked me what the situation was like outside and how the party was doing. He asked me just too many things in a short space of time. I could see he was eager to get as much information as possible.”
When the risk of arrest arose, he returned to Salisbury and was re-assimilated into society after executing his task with aplomb.
Those who went to the battlefield fighting for the soul of the land, are happy that the people who contributed greatly to Independence in their small way are now being officially recognised by the State.
ZANU PF Secretary for War Veterans Cde Douglas Mahiya said the recognition of war collaborators was long overdue.
“War was not simply about triggering the gun, it was total employment of available human resources in the battle against the enemy. Things were uncertain, and no one knew when the war would end. The rear was as important as the front, this is why there was need to continue reinforcing it as it provided trusted cadres who could be called to duty at any time,” said Cde Mahiya.
Cde Mahiya explained how war collaborators sacrificed a lot contributing to the liberation struggle, at a time when the Rhodesian forces were at their ruthless worst.
“Those in the front were responsible for increasing the number of people in the rear. For the rear to continue to be active, we expected reinforcements. People would go for training and would wait to replace those at the front, who would have died, or were injured,” said Cde Mahiya.
He said now that the vetting appears to have moved with considerable success, they now await the fine print on what is due to all those who passed.
“The President made it clear that we have to recognise everyone who contributed to the war. The issue was debated in Parliament. What is now left is the publishing of the Statutory Instrument or law capturing the extent to which they will be compensated. The recognition is progressive, if someone contributed, they have to be recognised,” explained Cde Mahiya.
It is widely known that war veterans and collaborators find comfort in the ideas of the ruling party, ZANU PF.
Cde Mahiya said they have already made provisions to allow them to actively contribute to the growth of the party.
“We are going to mobilise war collaborators into a ZANU PF structure known as the League of the Veteran Struggles and they will have a chance to also assist in how the party operates,” Cde Mahiya further noted.
One of the most eminent musicians in post-independence Zimbabwe, whose lyrics are grounded in the Marxist philosophy, the late Simon Chimbetu made a clarion call in his song Pane Asipo.
The song is a double-entendre, which on one end eulogises those who lost their lives to the claws of war.
It also reminds the post-independent republic of Zimbabwe not to feast before the full cast is settled.
Being a mujibha himself, perhaps Chimbetu, who was accorded provincial hero status after his death, was vocalising to his own plight.
If he was alive, recent developments would have perhaps inspired him to pen another one, in response to the recognition finally accorded to war collaborators.
