The Sunday Mail
War collaborators were crucial during the liberation struggle. Young boys and girls contributed immensely to the war effort, undertaking dangerous tasks, including spying and supplying freedom fighters with crucial intelligence. This week, war collaborator Cde HAMUNYARI MAKADZANGE (HM) recounts to our Deputy News Editor LINCOLN TOWINDO (LT) how she started collaborating with liberation fighters and some of the dangerous missions she undertook during the war.
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LT: If you can start by identifying yourself and giving us a bit of your background?
HM: My name is Hamunyari Makadzange. I come from an area in Rusape called Masvosva, from the Nerwande family. I did my basic education at St Michael’s School in the Masvosva area.
I was born in 1963 in Rusape.
I was raised by my grandparents after my mother had passed away, when I was just two years old.
My grandparents, who were renowned farmers in the area, were responsible for my education.
I went to school up to Grade Six in 1976.
LT: Take us through how you first made contact with liberation war fighters?
HM : During the 1976 school holidays, a group of freedom fighters came to our area.
It was then announced in the village that freedom fighters were in our area.
There was palpable excitement and everyone wanted to meet them.
A pungwe was then organised to welcome them into our area.
We all attended the pungwe.
During the pungwe, the comrades were singing revolutionary songs and I was seated right at the front because I really wanted to see what was going on.
One of the comrades asked me to stand up and join in the singing and dancing.
After all the singing and dancing, they started explaining to everyone the reasons they were waging a war against the white settler government.
They told us that they wanted to free the country and reclaim our ancestors’ land from the occupiers.
As a young girl, I could not comprehend what they meant by saying they wanted to reclaim our land.
They told us that the whites who owned farms that surrounded our area had taken all the good land for themselves and resettled us on barren land.
They said that was the reason they always had good harvests and we struggled to produce enough for ourselves.
It was explained in such a way that even, as a child, I understood exactly what they meant.
It reminded me of the many times I was sent to buy cabbages and tomatoes by my grandmother at a nearby farm that was owned by a white man.
That white man always had good-quality crops.
The comrades then requested young girls to help them with chores such as preparing meals at their base.
They said they wanted young girls who were yet to reach menstruation, and, by then, I was not yet menstruating.
They then picked me and several other young girls.
We then went to the base and the excitement among us was intense.
LT: What then happened after you went to the base?
Unfortunately for us, we were unaware that a sellout had reported to the Rhodesian army that freedom fighters had set up a base in our area.
The man who sold out was called Phineas Matowe.
The following morning, around 5, the comrades undertook a perimeter search around the base to see if there were no spies around.
While they did that, I was following closely behind, carrying a large pot on my head.
Unbeknown to us, Rhodesian soldiers had already surrounded us and were waiting to launch an ambush.
Before we could get back to the base, the Rhodesians started firing at us.
I was not aware that the pot I was carrying on my head was providing a good target for the Rhodesians.
One of the snipers fired at the pot and it fell violently on the ground.
Then one of the comrades, who was just ahead of me, tackled me to the ground.
He told me to crawl away from the gunfire.
This was the first time I was trained on how to react during an enemy attack.
I was mimicking whatever he was doing.
We then crawled to relative safety and proceeded to cross Ruzawo River to an area known as Nyamupara in neighbouring Hwedza.
We then came across another group of freedom fighters who were in the middle of a bira (traditional ceremony).
We joined them after the comrades had introduced themselves to each other through slogans.
We then spent a day at that base before leaving, along with the comrades, to Zembe Base, which was back in our area, Masvosva.
However, we were unaware that the sellout had also alerted the enemy of the presence of freedom fighters at Zembe as well.
The Rhodesian forces then came for that base as well.
When we were told that they were heading for that base, we ran away to safety, towards Ruponga Base, which was close to the Chiduku area.
Before we got to that base, we decided to make camp in some village.
We took cover in one hut.
It was very misty that day and we could barely see what was happening right in front of us.
Unfortunately for us, there was a group of Rhodesian soldiers that was coming from the Chiduku area towards where we had taken cover.
We later figured out that they were reinforcements going towards the base we had just ran away from.
Spies alerted them of our presence at Chief Riponga’s homestead.
I believe God and our ancestors intervened to save us from the ambush that day.
I asked to go outside to fetch some water because I was very thirsty.
I then went outside where the water was, close to the homestead granary.
Just as I was reaching out my hand to take hold of a cup, I noticed a Rhodesian soldier armed with a NATO gun preparing to fire at the hut.
Our eyes met and I froze.
I could not run back to the hut or anywhere for that matter.
I remained rooted where I was standing and put both my hands behind my back.
I then used my fingers to try to signal to the comrades who were in the hut that we were about to be attacked.
Because of the inordinate amount of time I had taken to fetch the water, some of the comrades became uneasy and started to peer through the window to locate me.
Among us was this comrade called Kiswell, who looked through the window and noticed my signal.
The comrades then closed the door and made a hole through the wall at the back of the hut.
They then made good their escape through that hole in the wall.
After they had escaped, they launched a surprise attack on the unsuspecting enemy while making a dash towards a nearby river.
I then started crawling away from all the gunfire towards my colleagues.
While I crawled away, a comrade called Sam Mawire ran towards me to try to save me from the kill zone.
He was then shot in the abdomen and his intestines protruded from his stomach.
On noticing that one of their own had been shot, the comrades started providing cover fire to try and create a small window for us to escape.
I then grabbed Cde Mawire’s intestines and pushed them back.
I took my jersey and tied it around his stomach so that the intestines would not spill out again.
We then grabbed each other by the shoulders and slowly made our way towards the river to escape certain death.
We made our way across the river and were back at the base where we had attended the traditional ceremony earlier, in the Nyamupara area.
The spirit medium that had manifested directed us to cover the wound with traditional snuff.
We then tied up the wound with a cloth.
He was then taken to a cave where injured comrades were kept.
Some mijibha were sent to nearby clinics to look for additional medication for the injured.
The freedom fighters’ medical staff then stitched up the wound using threads made from the mupfute tree bark.
Traditional medicines were also applied to the wound.
The comrade was later given medication that had been sourced from a clinic.
We stayed there for five days.
On the fifth day, we were told to go back home because the comrades were shifting to a new base.
Next week, Cde Makadzange will recount how she undertook dangerous spying missions for the freedom fighters as the war escalated.
