‘I had enough of white bullies’

16 Jun, 2019 - 00:06 0 Views
‘I had enough of white bullies’

The Sunday Mail

We continue chronicling the political life of Cde Norman Makotsi, whose nom de guerre was Cde Lecture. This week, the liberation fighter narrates to our Deputy News Editor Levi Mukarati events leading to his decision to cross to Mozambique for military training.

 

Q: The white lady workmate, unknowingly, exposed you for having beaten her. What was the direct action, from the bosses, against you?

A: The other white employees were not amused by the news and the incident. Our manager got to know about it and did not take it lightly.

At work, it was known that I was close to Douglas Mahiya. The manager, Herbert Nissina, summoned Mahiya to his office since I was in the rural areas after taking days off from work. It was Mahiya who was told that I had been fired in absentia. He was then tasked to relay the message to me. Mahiya tried to phone me. Those days, we did not have telephones in most homes, so Mahiya phoned at the nearby school, St Peters Tokoyo, and asked if I could be called the next day at midday to receive his phone call. The message reached me and I went to the school the following day.

When Mahiya phoned, he just said, “Kuno hakuna kumira zvakanaka sahwira. Nyaya iya yako naCathy yabuda pachena. Ndanzi ndikuudze kuti hauchisina basa pahotera.”

He then advised me to travel to Kwekwe and see the managers at the hotel.

I went to Kwekwe the following day and Nissina just asked for my identity document before asking the pay clerk to calculate what the company owed me for the hours I had worked. Nissina had previously warned me and Mahiya for our political activities and he was not in good books with his assistant, Ernest Bauer. In fact, Bauer supported our political activities to an extent that he was ordered to leave Zimbabwe by the Smith regime. It is myself and Mahiya who took Bauer to our ANC secretary general Gordon Chavhunduka, in Highfield.

There, papers were organised for Bauer to leave the country for Zambia.

So, after getting my dues at Hotel Redcliff, that was the end of my job there. At that same time, my uncle Peter Makotsi, who worked at Rhodesia Railways, had returned from Zambia and was based in Gweru.

He was a leading foreman. I went to see babamunini Peter and told him what had transpired at work.

He understood my plight and the following day we drove, in his vehicle, to Bulawayo where he wanted to do some errands in the city.

We slept at his house in Bulawayo before returning to Gweru the following day. It was a Sunday. In the morning, Babaminini Peter asked me to accompany him to work. He had assured me of a job at Rhodesia Railways. I should say my uncle was powerful at Rhodesia Railways. When we got to the company, we went straight to the personnel department.

There, he instructed the personnel officers that I was to start work as a signals assistant to one white guy, Mike. I was later introduced to Mike, who was one of the seniors in charge of railway signals. That was in 1973 and it was a Monday. The following day, Mike organised a lorry so that we could drive to Kwekwe to collect my belongings in Redcliff.

Mike drove the vehicle which also had two other assistants. I collected my belongings and those of Mahiya before returning to Gweru.

A feel of importance

Q: You collected Mahiya’s belongings? Can you explain why? And how you were received at Hotel Redcliff?

A: When we got to Hotel Redcliff, my former boss angrily demanded to know why I had returned, to which I replied that I wanted to get my property.

Nissina then politely turned to Mike, seeking to establish our relationship. Mike told him that he was with me and helping to collect my property.

I had been fired on a Friday and returned the following Tuesday accompanied by a white man to get my property.

I felt powerful and I could see that the few black workers, including Douglas Mahiya, who had gathered to witness the drama unfold, envied me. When I got keys to the quarters that I had been living in, Mahiya also demanded keys to his quarters.

He came along with me and said he had decided to quit his job.

Mahiya changed into his clothes, asked me to help him load his property into our vehicle before going to surrender his uniform to the hotel manager. We had bought a vehicle, a Vauxhall Velox, together with Mahiya. Whilst I went to Gweru, Mahiya drove off to Mutare in the vehicle. In Mutare, Mahiya was quick to secure employment at Wise Owl Motel while I had been allocated accommodation in the Rhodesia Railways staff quarters in Gweru.

Most weekends I would accompany my uncle to Bulawayo, as he usually had some work issues to attend to at our Bulawayo company office.

It was also a time when the Rhodesia Special Branch had increased surveillance activities and raids of houses of people suspected to be holding secret political meetings.

During one of our visits to Bulawayo, special branch members came to our house and one of them climbed to the roof through a mango tree that overlapped the house.

He wanted to listen to the conversations inside the house. However, Uncle Peter heard strange noises from the roof and immediately got out of the house.

Outside, he saw two males standing under the mango tree and upon inquiring on their mission, they produced their work identity cards. The one who was on the roof immediately climbed down. The Rhodesian agents then told my uncle that they had information I was using the house for secret political meetings against the government.

They then demanded to see me and were led into the house, where they interrogated me. But there was no meeting going on, as such, they just apologised for the inconvenience and left.

That incident, in the late 1974, left me worried as I had not used the house for any political meeting.

My uncle also began to fear for my life. It was a time when many people were being imprisoned or disappearing for any involvement in African politics. Uncle Peter saw the visit by the Rhodesian agents as a clear sign that they had been on my trail for a long time. He advised it would be wise for me to left the country through Zambia. My uncle was well aware of my political activities.

Q: Which party did you belong to during this period?

A: I was under UANC (United African National Council) led by Abel Muzorewa. At that time many Zapu or Zanu people conducted their activities under UANC. Let me explain on this part. In 1971, the British government made a deal with Ian Smith, that it would remove sanctions on Rhodesia if the leader agreed on a transition to majority rule. On the other hand, Muzorewa and Reverend Canaan Banana came together to form the UANC, driven by the demand of no independence before majority rule.

As such, there was a proposed referendum which was withdrawn and Muzorewa found himself being the international personality of UANC with Zapu and Zanu placing themselves under UANC. However, Zapu and Zanu were to later cast some doubts in the agreement when Muzorewa became ambitious to turn UANC into a fully-fledged political party.

So at the time I joined politics, I found myself conducting political activities under UANC, although I had an inclination to Zanu.

Q: Back to the warnings from your uncle, did you take heed? What did you do next?

A: I took heed on the part that I should plan my exit from the country, but I did not choose Zambia. I phoned my friend, Mahiya, and he asked me to travel to Mutare and join him. Within two weeks I had secured a job at Rhodesia Forestry Commission.

But there was something that was fast turning me into a trouble maker or it seems as if I had become accustomed to attracting trouble. I continued with my political activities and was gathering information on how I could cross into Mozambique to join the liberation fighters.

Information was easy to get because Manicaland was one of the last gateways to Mozambique.

There was a white worker at Rhodesia Forestry Commission, Mr Swanapoel. From the time I got employed, he had openly shown his dislike for me through making negative comments about me.  He used to criticise my work ethic, type of dressing, general approach to work and even told me that I looked like one of the terrorists.

The whites used to call freedom fighters terrorists. Then one Friday in 1976, we were told to return at 2pm to collect our wages. We had finished work at 10am.

I then decided to go home and return the following day to collect my dues. Little did I know that that decision would change my life. In the morning, I went to the pay clerk and while I was there, Mr Swanapoel came through. He then asked why I was not at my work station and busy processing my wage during working hours.

Mr Swanapoel had already got wind of my political activities. He then began shouting at me, calling me ‘lazy for nothing’. I told him I would not go back to work until I had been given my money.

By that time, I could see Swanapoel had turned pale. He was burning with anger and he suddenly unleashed a slap to my face. That action triggered a fist fight and I left him bloodied.

After being restrained by other workers, the pay clerk paid what was due to me. From that office, I went to my work station, took my daily share of a pint of milk and half loaf of bread and then gave it to a co-black worker.

I was angry with the treatment I was getting from these white people.

The incident was the final nail to the coffin for me to say it’s over, I cannot reconcile with these white people. Enough was enough and I was destined to skip the country for military training.

I went to Mahiya’s place and told him what had transpired at work and that I had been subject to similar victimisations at the hands of the whites and the next time I was to deal with a white person, it would be in a free Zimbabwe.

Mahiya then told me that he knew someone, Muzonda, who was helping people cross the border for military training in Mozambique.

Mahiya actually worked with Muzonda at Wise Owl Motel and the Muzondas had their homestead near the border with Mozambique.

I went to see Muzonda in Mutare and told him of my planned mission.

After a lengthy talk, akazonditi ukasvika kumusha kwedu kwaMuzonda unobatsirwa naamai vangu kuyambuka kuenda kuMozambique kuBase remakamaradha eFrelimo.

The following day I took a bus to Honde Valley and when I got to Ruda, paGreen, I asked for directions to Muzonda’s homestead and was assisted to get there.

I was welcomed by Mai Muzonda. Ndakavatsanangurira kuti ndabva nekunaMuzonda uye ndaida kuyambuka mhiri.

Ivo vakambotora chinguva vachindibvunza asi vakaona kuti ndaive pachokwadi.

She then said she would assist me, but laughed at my dressing.

I was wearing a suit and she said it would definitely scare the comrades. They would think I was an infiltrator or member of the Rhodesia secret agency.

I remember wachinditi, “Zvino nhai mwana, unoda kunorwa wakapfeka kunge headmaster kudai?”

Mai Muzonda gave me a place to sleep and assured me that the following day she would assist me cross the river into Mozambique.

From the homestead, she pointed across the river where there was a pole and grass structure. Mai Muzonda said it was occupied by Frelimo soldiers and she would assist me get there. The next morning at around 4am, Mai Muzonda wakamuka ndokutora jeko rekuchekesa huswa wakati ndiwatewere.

She said if we were to meet any inquisitive people, I should say I am her visiting nephew who works in Mutare and since its early morning I am accompanying her to cut some thatching grass.

That was 4 August 1976 when I crossed into Mozambique. I did not face any difficulties crossing into Mozambique. I still have a clear memory of Mai Muzonda waving good bye to me. It was an emotional wave of a mother full with love and blessings as if to say: “Don’t worry son, you will travel well in your journey and we will definitely meet again.”

To be continued next week

 

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