I didn’t tolerate ‘white nonsense’

03 May, 2020 - 00:05 0 Views
I didn’t tolerate ‘white nonsense’

The Sunday Mail

Cde Joshua Madzudzu (JM), whose Chimurenga name was Cde Captain Fantastic, had an early brush with politics and gave up a good chance to pursue a bright academic path. Our reporter Norman Muchemwa (NM) chronicles the political life of the former freedom fighter who narrates his expulsion from school and later clashes with white superiors at work.

NM: Comrade, can you briefly tell us who Joshua Madzudzu is; where and when were you born, as well as your childhood life?

JM: Joshua Madzudzu is my birth name. I was to be known, by comrades in the armed bush war for the liberation of Zimbabwe, as Cde Captain Fantastic.

I was born on March 19 1956 in Mwenezi Masvingo, Chief Mawarire’s area.

We were 10 in our family and I am the seventh.

I enrolled at Mabhare Primary School where I did Sub A to Standard Three before being transferred to Makawire Primary School, which was run by the Roman Catholic Church. There, I did Standard Four to Six.

I later went to Dadaya Mission School in Zvishavane, Midlands Province, for Form One and Two.

While in Form Two, that was in 1972, I was expelled from school for involvement in political activities.

I was to cross into Mozambique in 1976 seeking military training so that I could join other comrades who were waging an armed war against the colonial system in Rhodesia, which was led by Ian Douglas Smith.

NM: Before we get to the time you went to Mozambique, there must be a lot of detail from the period 1972 to 1976. First tell us more on your expulsion from Dadaya Mission School?

NM: The story that led me to join the liberation struggle is a very long one. I mentioned that I was expelled from Dadaya Mission for political activism.One of my teachers at Dadaya Mission was Judith Todd.

She was daughter to former Rhodesian prime minister Garfield Todd. Her father was also a priest at the school. I used to take history lessons under Judith’s tutorship.

During her lessons, we all noticed how poignant she was when discussing the issue of the unfair manner in which black people had been dispossessed from their land by her kith and kin.

She openly supported the return of blacks to prime farm land or equal opportunities and a harmonious living among the two races.

Judith was against the settling of people in areas of poor sandy soils and harsh weather conditions. That stance, especially being held by a white person, instilled some political consciousness in me and most black students at the Mission at that time.

I was one of her best history students and we had developed an excellent relationship.

During some weekends, Judith would ask me to accompany her to either their farm, for shopping or for her tennis playing sessions.

I would often return with her after supper at school and would go directly to the dormitories.

Judith had so much praise for my academic intellect. She always promised to facilitate my further studies in England and I had looked forward to that.

In fact, I had set sights on England to pursue my academic studies after Dadaya Mission.

Then one morning, a team of Rhodesian security agents came to the school and arrested Judith. She was taken to Zvishavane town and we learnt that Judith’s crime was centred on her “radical” stance against fellow white colleagues as well as imparting political education to students.

On the day she was arrested, myself and other students were with Judith at her house, basking in the sun while seated on the lawn.

More than eight police vehicles arrived at the house nevaye vainzi majoni.  n no time, she had been bundled into a truck and taken away.

We were later told that her arrest was also a result of a political gathering we had attended in Mberengwa where she addressed and assured the crowd of her full support to the liberation of black Zimbabweans.

Judith’s arrest angered most of her history students, including myself, and there was a protest at the school.

We burnt the dining hall and destroyed school property. That action led to me and other colleagues being expelled from school. The incident gave me a disliking for white people, especially those in the Ian Smith regime.

We were known for our political involvement and used to hold night secret meetings at the school.

The school authorities knew of these meetings and I am convinced they were only waiting for a “good” reason to expel us.

As such, the demonstration was all they needed to send us home.

NM: After your expulsion, what did you do next since you were just in Form Two?

JM: I went back to our rural home in Masvingo. It was not difficult to tell my parents that I had been expelled.

Nguva iyoyo zvekudzingwa kwevana muzvikoro nenyaya dzepolitics zvakanga zvatekeshera.

So it was not like I was the first one to face such punitive action.

I stayed kumusha ndichingobata-bata mabasa akasiyana-siyana.

During that time, reports in villages of liberation war fighters crossing into the country were increasing and people were warming up in support of the armed struggle.

At the end of 1974, I left the rural areas for Salisbury to seek employment. I was lucky to get a job at a construction company.

After about six months at the company, I was involved in a fight with one of the white supervisors who had scolded and accused me of being lazy.

He physically kicked me in the back and that did not go down well with me. I am a short-tempered character who does not tolerate nonsense, worse at that time, “white nonsense”.

His actions saw me retaliate by pushing and kicking him. He fell to the ground and I was restrained by some of my black colleagues.

I knew I had invited trouble. A white man, then, was not someone who you could mess around with, worse humiliate like that.

The incident occurred while we were working near the KGVI Barracks in Harare. I then left work early and walked from there to Msasa area.

There, I went to Wenela offices, looking for employment at the South African mining company.

Fortunately, the company’s medical doctor was due to visit the offices that afternoon to conduct physical medical examinations for a group that had been selected for employment.

I was shortlisted among that group and passed the medical tests. Immediately, officials at the offices began processing travel papers to South Africa, for the successful candidates.

There was no time for me to inform my relatives that I had got a job in South Africa.

In less three days, I was taken to South Africa where I worked for five months until around February 1976.

Then one day at work, during preparation to start my morning shift, there was an incident. We had an elevator cage that we used for entering and exiting the mine shafts.

But the white workers would enter first before us. As the cage went down with the first group of the whites, one young white man came to where we were standing and started making fun of the fellow black workers.

He was in a habit of “trying” to joke with us, but I didn’t like his jokes because I felt they were a mockery to us.

On this particular day aitonakidzwa kutswinya vanhu hake. I told myself that if he tried the act on me, I would not allow it.

Indeed, when this white fellow got to me, akanditswinya dama sekundimhoresa achitoseka.

I immediately threw a punch to his face. He didn’t expect it, as such, he fell to the ground.

There was commotion at the elevator cage with other blacks and whites joining the fight whilst some tried to restrain us.

NM: You again had taken an aim against the whites, how were you treated by your superiors?

JM: I knew that I was going to be in trouble. I didn’t wait for a disciplinary hearing or anything.

That afternoon, since we had been paid our wages the previous few days, I boarded a train and headed back to Rhodesia, Bulawayo via Botswana.

On arrival in Bulawayo, I went to my brother’s house who was shocked to see me since I had not communicated with any of my relatives from the time I had left Salisbury.

I stayed in Bulawayo for a few days before proceeding to our rural home in Masvingo.

NM: How were you welcomed home since you mentioned your journey to South Africa was impromptu and you had not informed your family?

JM: People in the rural were shocked to see me. Others thought I had died.

On the day I arrived and before reaching home, I saw a group of people walking in more like a single file towards the other side of our villages.

I whistled for them to stop as I wanted to find out what was happening.

After exchanging pleasantries and upon inquiry, vakandiudza kuti vakanga vashevedzwa nanamukoma, I knew they meant the liberation fighters.

These were people I knew from the rural area and I expressed my desire to join them.

But they were not sure if it was a good idea since no one knew where I had been and what I was up to.

I then went home and changed into some old clothes just to fit among others.

There was another group that was also destined for the meeting, which I managed to join. The base was some distance from our home. On arrival at the base, one of the comrades immediately called me to the side.

NM: What was happening at this base and why were you singled out?

JM: The comrades were addressing villagers on their mission in the area, but I don’t know why they were doing that in the afternoon.

I used to think such gathering were reserved for the evening to avoid detection by the Rhodesian security agents.

The comrade who called me was joined by another one and they questioned who I was.

They told me that they had been in the area for some days and my face was new to them.

I told them my history and that I was one of Mr Madzudzu’s sons who had been away from the area for some time.

They knew my father well because he owned a shop in the area and used to supply them with some necessities.

The other comrade was actually drinking a soft drink he had been given from my father’s shop. I had a torrid time explaining myself.

NM: Who were some of these comrades you met at this base?

JM: I still remember Cde Gabarinocheka, Cde Jet and Cde Matandamanyoro who was their commander.

After the meeting, the comrades held me at the base. I actually stayed with them for more than a week accompanying them to the villages.

After that, they took me home to see my father.

People at home were worried because they thought something bad had happened to me.

We went to see my parents and the comrades told them not to worry as I was going to be with them at their base for a while.

NM: You talk as if you had been detained. What was going on through your mind during this period?

JM: After seeing my parents, I was only with them for two more days before they released me to go home.

Hapana chakaipa chavakandiratidza ndakagara navo ndichibatsira kuchera mvura nekutumwa zvimwe zvimabasa sezvaiitwa nana mujibha.

I am quite sure they were trying to gather information on where I had been all along and if I was not a spy.

During the stay with this group of comrades, my interest in joining the liberation struggle grew and I pleaded with them to be allowed to go and join the war.

They neither turned down nor accepted my proposal of going to join the liberation struggle.

To be continued next week…

 

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