The Sunday Mail
ALL great men have a beginning. They share a foundation upon which their destinies are shaped. While some have greatness bestowed upon them via abstract human systems such as heredity, others toil in blood, sweat and tears. President Mugabe falls into the latter category. The President has often told — as have many others — of how his early life at Kutama Mission helped shape his iconic stature as statesman and liberator. Here Dr Regina Gata, his only surviving half-sister, speaks to The Sunday Mail about Robert Mugabe — providing rare insights into his life.
Dr Regina Gata is one of the President’s siblings born of their father Gabriel Mugabe from a second marriage in Bulawayo.
She looks perfectly at home in her small and modestly furnished yet cosy residence in Harare’s Mabelreign suburb.
Having baked a cake and prepared fruit juice – all set on an antique table – she insists on praying.
The prayer – initially intended to bless the food – soon drifts to thanksgiving for Zimbabwe and its leadership.
President Mugabe’s image almost begins to form right before us at the mention of leadership.
And at once, Dr Gata’s striking resemblance to her half brother becomes apparent, the Mugabe-esque complexion, the brow and gestures, right down to posture.
They are one of the same.
Perhaps the only variation lies in the difference between masculinity and femininity.
Dr Gata is a devout Christian and pastor.
She turns 69 years old in May, but only exhibits negligible traces of advanced age.
She admits knowing very little about Cde Mugabe’s early life largely due to the age difference between them.
She, nonetheless, no doubt, recalls her own beginnings and how the first baby steps she took eventually led her to Robert.
Mr Gabriel Mugabe left his job in Bulawayo and decided to take his family to Kutama.
Regina, who could not fully make out what was happening then, embraced the long journey alongside her two brothers and mother, Colleta.
Back then, Kutama was the cradle of Catholicism and, as they later discovered, did not freely accommodate polygamy.
Their arrival was met with scorn and derision.
The community advocated for their immediate relocation to Bulawayo.
Church leaders – the presumed custodians of piety – joined in the chorus.
There was nothing the now ailing Gabriel Senior could do.
The house he had built and all his life’s work were on the brink of collapse.
Enter Robert Mugabe.
The young and unassuming teacher found it his duty to protect his family from such oppressive tenets.
“He was in his early 20s but stood up and defended the family,” recalls Dr Gata.
“My mother, two brothers and I were on the brink of being chased away from our father’s home. However, Bhudhi (elder brother) stood up and said ‘No’.
“He told the church leaders that his father’s family had a right to be in the area where their father was. For me, that is the earliest memory I have of my brother. Today, as I look at that episode in retrospect, it shows me the kind of wisdom he had as a young man which was better than that of the Catholic priests.
“What he did enabled us to have a sense of belonging. Despite Baba having gone to Bulawayo and not communicating and taking care of them for years, he was bold enough to support us when we needed such support.
“This is a very significant part of his character.
“Contending against church authorities at that time was unthinkable and could spell disaster, especially for a young man such as him. They (Catholic priests) were very powerful people at that time.”
Eventually the church leaders allowed them to stay.
But by then tragedy had already struck.
Their father had passed on before Robert had returned from Matabeleland where he was teaching.
The centre that held all the individual parts together had finally given in.
The family was in dire need of a leader.
With two of his elder brothers – Michael and Raphael – having died years back, the onerous task of caring for his siblings fell on young Robert’s shoulders.
“He took it upon himself to educate all of us. I remember one day he came and spoke to my mother, asking to take my elder brother, Albert, back to Kutama so he could attend school. She agreed.
“Then later on, he came for David and finally my turn came. We all stayed at Amaiguru’s house as one family unit and he was taking care of all of us.”
With so many children living under one roof, altercations were inevitable.
But Robert, she says, always calmed the situation.
An artful mediator, he would always find ways to bring those who were brawling to common understanding.
Dr Gata reminisces: “Whenever there was a fight between siblings he would always say, ‘It grieves my heart’. Whenever he said that we all knew that we shouldn’t be fighting.”
As time wore on, Robert was soon involved in political agitation – possibly as a result of his earlier life of familial leadership.
He was incarcerated.
And so began the most difficult decade for the family.
Without a leader, life would not be the same.
“I was young then and knew very little about what was going on politically.
“It was quite a traumatising time; I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I was not sure who was going to pay my school fees.”
The family eventually caucused, and Abdon, the son of Gabriel Senior’s brother, was asked by family elders to take over the reins.
“Ahh munoti ndini ndingagone zvinoitwa naBhudhi Robert? Zvaanoita zviya ndezvekupihwa naMwari! Handingazvigone,” says Dr Gata, relating Abdon’s immediate reply.
However, even as he was in detention, Robert knew his obligations towards the family’s upkeep.
How he struck the delicate balance between sustaining the family and helping wage an onslaught against Ian Smith’s regime from detention cells remains a mystery.
Dr Gata revealed that he communicated constantly with the family via letters and when they visited him in detention.
He was directing operations from a remote location.
He was paying school fees for his siblings from the savings he had made while he was still working as a teacher.
At that time, Dr Gata was in nurse training.
Because of her brother’s political allegiances, she suffered a lot of persecution at work.
Unbeknown to her, a plot was being hatched to have her expelled from training.
“I visited him at Central Prison where he was incarcerated and narrated to him what was going on. I told him there was no way they were going to let me finish my studies.”
The two agreed that she would complete her studies in the United Kingdom.
He advised her to apply and save the airfare.
She did as Bhudhi Robert advised.
However, out of naivety, she entrusted all her savings with a local priest.
“I got accepted to study in the UK, but then mufundisi uya anga adya mari yangu yese (but the priest had spent all my money).”
She was devastated.
She knew her life depended on that get-away.
Despite that predicament, she always knew where to turn: Central Prison.
“From his prison cell he directed the withdrawal of the required airfare from his savings account and bought me the ticket.”
The two developed a close bond and exchanged letters.
The President treated her differently because she was the youngest in the family.
And he was also the jealous brother who always shooed away suitors.
In 2014, at Cde Bridgette Mugabe’s funeral in Zvimba, this close bond was unmistakable.
The two consoled each other.
At one point, President Mugabe held her in his arms as she wept, probably aware that she was his father’s last living daughter.
