The Sunday Mail
Last week, Cde Aaron Musiwavo Tokoyo (AMT), whose nom de guerre was Jackson Chaminuka Musiwavo, recounted his tortuous journey to Mozambique to join the liberation struggle. He skipped the border with the help of a mysterious man known only as John. This week, he continues telling his story to our Deputy News Editor LINCOLN TOWINDO (LT).
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LT: What happened after you crossed into Mozambique?
AMT: After crossing into Mozambique, we walked for a short distance and soon arrived in a small town called Villa Manica.
Unbeknown to us, as we made our way from the border, we had been flanked by comrades all the way to that small town.
I don’t know how they managed to shepherd us towards their base. They probably knew that we were trying to find our way to their base.
We soon arrived at the base entrance, where we were interrogated for a short while.
But the interrogation did not last that long because they figured out that, since we were young, there was no way we could be spies.
The camp commanders then began organising transport for us to be ferried to the main camp.
We spent about two days at this camp before being taken to Chimoio by tractor.
Chimoio was teeming with people.
As a result, life at that camp was very tough; food was always in short supply.
However, since we had committed ourselves to joining the fight to free our country, we soldiered on regardless of the hardships.
We were told that we were going to be moved to the Doroi Refugee Camp, where we would settle.
Transport was again organised for us after staying there for a while.
We were then transported to Doroi, and this was towards the end of 1976.
The following year, there was a devastating disease outbreak at the camp.
People were dying in their numbers and many were admitted to the makeshift hospitals.
The commanders had no idea what had caused this disease outbreak.
Many speculated that we had offended the local spirits.
LT: How bad was the health situation at the camp?
AMT: The situation was unbearable.
You cannot even begin to imagine how bad it was; people were dying like flies.
The burial teams were burying upwards of 15 people every morning and another 15 towards night time.
This went on for what seemed like eternity.
At that time, the camp hospital was teeming with ill people.
This experience really affected me mentally. I was afraid of becoming a victim of whatever that disease was.
This other night I had a very strange dream.
I dreamt of this strange human-like figure calling me to go where it was.
I resisted this figure’s calls.
I am told that I tried to get up from where I was sleeping but collapsed to the ground.
My colleagues then took me to the hospital, where people were perishing in numbers.
I could have contracted whatever it was that was killing our people.
Luckily, the following morning I felt much better and immediately asked to be discharged.
LT: Your experience in the hospital must have been traumatic given that people were dying there in their numbers.
AMT: It was like hell on earth.
You could feel death lingering in the air.
After being discharged, I took time to reflect on what had just happened.
I figured out that I had just dodged a bullet because I could have also died in the hospital just as the others.
By then I had made a new friend called Danger.
I called him to where I was stationed and we discussed what had just happened to me.
We agreed to plan an escape from this death camp.
It was clear that if we stayed, we would perish, even before we had fought against the white man.
We felt it was only a matter of time before one of us contracted this infection as well.
We decided to run away from Doroi and head to Chimoio, where we felt it would be easier for us to receive military training.
LT: How were you going to escape given the high levels of security around guerrilla camps during that time?
AMT: Fortunately for us, during that time, we were working in the security department, so, often-times we would be deployed to patrol the camp and surrounding areas.
During the patrols, we would interact freely with the Mozambicans, so, we had a good idea of how we could get to Chimoio.
So, we made a decision to make a run for it during patrol.
We sneaked away unnoticed during one patrol, as we had planned, and walked for two days before reaching Chimoio.
Since we were coming from another camp without permission from the commanders, we couldn’t just walk into Chimoio without raising suspicion.
So, we needed to devise a way of getting into the base without raising suspicion.
There were thousands of people at this camp, so, we decided to take advantage of that and sneak in unnoticed.
We sneaked into the camp by joining a company of comrades that was entering the base from their morning exercises.
A cloud of confusion engulfed us upon entering the camp, because we had no idea where we were supposed to go after getting in.
Fortunately, the company we had used as cover to enter the camp was made up of cadres who were the same ages as us. They were known as Matoto or the Red Guards.
But we did not know which barrack we were supposed to go to.
We did not want to go to the barracks housing Matoto because we knew the commanders would direct us to go to school, instead of military training.
We had no interest at all in going to school; all we wanted then was to go for training and go back home to fight the enemy.
We were staying in a part of the camp called Chindunduma, which largely housed young cadres.
If we stayed inside Chindunduma, there was no chance that we would receive any military training.
So, we ran away to another camp that was close by called Takawira 2, where those who were awaiting training were staying.
By a stroke of luck, a very senior commander at Takawira 2 developed a very soft spot for Danger and myself.
He then employed us as his guarda poshto (personal assistants).
Our duties included carrying his bags and writing his notes during meetings.
When it was announced that the next round of training was commencing in May that year, we asked our new boss to be included among the recruits.
We argued that, as his assistants, we deserved training.
He acceded to the request and had our names listed on the recruits list.
Training commenced that May.
Finally, our mission was well on course.
After we completed training, Danger and I did not want to go back to being the commander’s assistants – we wanted to go to war.
So, we made sure we did not cross paths with him after training was completed.
All the while he was looking for us.
We had an unfortunate incident where one of our colleagues reported to the commander that we were around the camp.
The commander ordered we be disciplined.
The discipline came in the form whipping; we both received 30 lashes on our backs.
Unbeknown to us, tragedy was looming on the horizon.
Far from the hustle and bustle around Chimoio, the Rhodesian commanders were planning Operation Dingo – an attack on Chimoio.
As November approached, there was animated chatter around the camp about something bad that was going to happen in the coming days.
Some spirit medium had warned the commanders about imminent danger. However, I suspect the warning was ignored or the commanders took their time to make a definitive decision.
I suspect they wanted to initially verify the intelligence they had received.
Sadly, the clock was ticking away.
I remember that a few days before the attack, I went into the local community to look for some snuff.
As I went back to the camp, coming from the Mudzingadzi side, along with a few comrades, we heard a very loud bang.
We figured out that it was bomb.
We looked up into the sky and it was teeming with Rhodesian planes.
The Chimoio attack had just commenced.
◆ Next week, Cde Tokoyo concludes his narration as he recounts his escape from the Chimoio attack and his eventual deployment to the front.
Twitter: @kuntowaz
