The Sunday Mail
THIS week, CDE JOSIAH RADOKA (JR), whose nom de guerre was Joe Tawengwa, concludes narrating his wartime experiences. He tells our Features and Arts Editor PRINCE MUSHAWEVATO (PM) about the final days of the liberation struggle and how he joined the Zimbabwe National Army after the country attained independence.
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PM: Last week, we concluded our discussion when the Rhodesian soldiers derailed your plans by counter-attacking your base before you could strike. What happened next?
JR: They caused serious havoc. As I was hiding, I saw them (Rhodesian soldiers) searching our quarters while others took smoke breaks. I tactically kept position as the situation was not in our favour. Where possible, our teams would fire back.
After a protracted exchange of fire, I ran towards the border, alone. I travelled a reasonable distance with the hope of bumping into some of my colleagues. Along the way, I met an old man who sent me a distress signal from a distance.
He knew that I was a comrade. We met and he told me that he was nursing a freedom fighter who had been injured during the raid.
Cde Radoka
He directed me to a secure place where he had left my wounded colleague. When we got there, I immediately identified him. We came from the same rural home in Mutoko. He had five bullet holes, three on the thighs and two on his feet. The guy was in a critical condition and the sight was not for the faint-hearted.
He was soaked in blood. We rendered first aid, as we waited for night cover to search for a stretcher and more personnel so as to be able to transfer him to a better place, where he could get proper medical care.
Three comrades came through and we moved towards a village called Bandimba. By that time, we had some villagers who now understood our mission, so they helped us prepare a place for our wounded comrade to rest and recover.
PM: Did you leave the injured comrade behind?
JR: No. We rested in that village for a while, making sure everything was in order and that he was being treated. Meanwhile, a member of the general staff by the name of Thula Musindo came through — I think he is still around. He instructed us to travel back to Mozambique.
I immediately knew that was trouble. The journey to Mozambique was not easy. It was characterised by hunger and serious fatigue. From our location then, we had to travel through Karuwe, Mahanda, Mereki, Dake, Karohwi and Chitima to get to Mozambique. It was a long journey. As time passed by, the injured comrade started feeling better and he was transferred to Mozambique. We stayed behind, as we planned to later travel as instructed.
PM: Can you tell us about the fierce Chimvuri battle that you talked about earlier on?
JR: Yes, we were at Chimvuri, close to Chatumbama. Around 8am, while having breakfast, sadza to be precise, the enemy decided to conduct a surprise attack on us. A number of our comrades died during the brutal ambush. I had spent the whole night travelling with one of the detachment commanders called Jamaica Dutu.
When I joined others in the camp, I ate my food fast. Just as I finished eating, a helicopter started firing at us. Again, I took cover and was joined by comrades Novels Shumba and Peter.
Unfortunately, the attackers spotted Shumba and they fired at him, injuring his leg. I do not know if he is still alive, but I once saw him after independence in Mount Darwin, and later visited him at his home in Warren Park, Harare. Peter died on the spot. I managed to manoeuvre and position myself in a ditch.
After a few minutes, the injured Cde Shumba joined me. He left a trail of blood as he came towards me and I knew the enemy was going to try and track him down. I then told him that we needed to be bold and fire back if we wanted to stay alive. We took charge of different flanks and opened fire. Cde Shumba impressed me that day. He was seriously injured but still managed to stand his ground.
He fought better than some fit men could ever do. The battle lasted for hours. We fought tooth and nail to stay alive. We unleashed grenades, fired shots and used all possible combat styles until the enemy retreated. They had no option. We were killing them like flies.
We managed to stand our ground and the enemy eventually left. I carried the injured comrade, together with his ammo. But he was so thirsty and needed water. The smell of gunpowder triggers the need for water.
Besides, he was bleeding profusely and water would certainly help in such a situation. I went with him to Ruya River, where I gave him water to drink. I then told him that I could not carry him and his weapons any further as I was tired. Thus, I left him at a secure place and went to seek reinforcement at Chesa, where there was a reliable associate of ours called Dzumbunu. I promised that I would come back for him but I left him in tears. He thought I was abandoning him in his last moments.
PM: Did you manage to get help and after how long?
JR: Yes. I voyaged along Ruya River. After covering some distance, I heard some footsteps. I then summoned my courage and asked who was out there. The person said he was Cde Chikonyora. He came out and we officially met. As we proceeded walking down the river, we met two other comrades to make our total number four. I then told them about the injured Shumba. We went back for him. When we arrived where he was, I called out his name. He initially did not answer.
I then told him that it was me and I had come back for him, as promised. That is when he responded. It took me about an hour to seek help and return for him.
I was worried because he was bleeding profusely. We then carried him, taking turns, until we crossed Muchesa (river). After a while, we got to Dzumbunu’s homestead. This guy suffered a lot because of supporting us during the struggle. He used to provide us with shelter, food and intelligence, among other things, and his houses and property were subsequently burnt by the colonial regime for that. As we were settling, the enemy surrounded us. It was as if they knew we were coming. Unfortunately for then, there were various groups of freedom fighters coming from different sides to converge on the homestead that day.
The enemy tried to attack, but we overpowered them. Cde Shumba and several other injured freedom fighters were then transferred to Mozambique. That was the last time I saw him (Cde Shumba) during the struggle. However, we later met in Harare soon after independence, around 1981. He was so grateful that I saved his life.
He went and introduced me to his wife and other relatives, telling them that I went out of my way to make sure he got help at a time he was facing death. It was only then that I got to know that he was from Kajokoto, Mount Darwin.
PM: In concluding our discussion, can you tell us your final journey towards demobilisation?
JR: When the ceasefire was announced, we gathered at a farm called Magadzi. We were with one of the leaders, Perrance Shiri. Cde Josiah Tungamirai also visited the place. However, he told us that we were too few in the camp. They organised transport (buses) to ferry us to Marymount to join others. We stayed there for some time. But most of the comrades had become accustomed to activity and life in the jungle, thus it was proving difficult for them to leave in confinement.
Resultantly, some would sneak to hunt, killing wild animals like hippos. As time passed by, we were transferred to Rushinga, where we were eventually seconded to the Zimbabwe National Army under General (Solomon) Mujuru.
I went to school at Guinea Fowl; that is where I was trained. We were trained by some British officers. They taught us how to use some of the weapons that were used by the Rhodesian soldiers during the struggle.
When we were done, we were transferred to the School of Infantry in Gweru, where we stayed for three days before being transferred to Mbalabala. It was in Mbalabala that I got to know what it means to be a soldier. The training was rigorous.
Upon arrival, we were told that it was a military camp and we were expected to be disciplined and follow instructions always. They knew we were freedom fighters and we were naughty. Our movements in the camp were limited, according to ranks. After training, we were given two weeks off to visit our families.
We got onto buses that dropped us off in Harare. After the break, I was transferred to a camp that was close to my rural home. However, I did not last long in the military because of back pain.
Remember, I got injured during the struggle on my way back home after receiving training in Mozambique. When Commander Mujuru announced that those who were injured or felt like leaving the army for one reason or the other were free to do so, I and others seized the opportunity.
We followed all due processes and our documents were approved. We got some money and left. After that, I went for training with the Zimbabwe Republic Police.
I successfully completed training and became a constable. However, I later on left the police. I eventually bought a grinding meal and left for my rural home, Mutoko. Back home, I managed my small business and also joined active politics. I later moved to the farming area of Macheke at the height of the land reform programme, of which I am a beneficiary.
