We wouldn’t have won without the masses

07 Jan, 2024 - 00:01 0 Views
We wouldn’t have won without the masses

The Sunday Mail

THIS week, CDE LEONARD MUTIZE (LM), whose Chimurenga name was DICKSON MUSHOMA, concludes narrating his experiences during the liberation struggle. He recounts to our Features and Arts Editor PRINCE MUSHAWEVATO (PM) some of his unforgettable experiences after joining the war front.

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PM: Last week, we concluded our discussion when you had been deployed to Manicaland province after successfully completing your training in East Africa. Can you tell us what next?

LM: I began operating from 1977 until the country attained independence in 1980.

Around 1978, there was a fierce battle that I was part of, which I still vividly remember.

Cde Mutize

For those who follow Independence or Heroes Day programmes on television, I am sure you are aware of a clip that shows two fighter jets going over a hilltop, headed east.

Those fighter planes were coming to bomb our bases in Manicaland.

We used to stay in liberated zones as the masses had been forced into protected areas, commonly called keeps, by the Rhodesian government.

PM: Considering the barrier that had been created by the enemy, how was your interaction with the masses and did this not affect your operations?

LM: It was good. We devised ways to regularly get in touch with the masses as our success also depended on their support.

Without their cooperation, it would have been difficult to defeat the enemy.

But throughout the liberation struggle, I realised that villagers in the Tangwena area (Manicaland province) were well-organised in supporting our cause.

Before they moved into keeps, they stashed non-perishable foodstuff like zviyo, mhunga and chibage in caves for us to be able to have easy access to food.

Thus, every time we would visit the keeps, they would direct us to different caves for food supplies, making our lives and operations a bit easier. However, with time, the reserves got exhausted — I think around the end of 1979.

We then requested permission to shift our base to Tombo 1 and Tombo 2 under Tete province.

Negotiations were conducted through our leadership and it was approved.

Our welfare improved at Tombo as we used to get constant food supply and clothing.

PM: You talked about fighter jets coming to bomb your bases in Manicaland. Can you tell us more about the attack?

LM: There was a detachment security officer by the name of Tavashure Jakuchichi Mukono Wezizi.  He ran out of cigarettes and requested two assistants to accompany him to a keep that was close by to replenish his stocks.

They left around 3pm.

Unfortunately, they were ambushed on their way back to the camp.

We heard gunshots — about five to 10 rounds — and we knew that was war.

By then, I was on the OP (observation post) and went to alert others about the gunshots.

Promptly, we started preparing for imminent combat.

But before engaging the Rhodesian fighters, we spent the whole night moving our blankets and clothes because we knew the attack would be massive.

An assault close to our base was a sign of too much confidence on the part of the enemy.

True to our suspicions, the whole area was swarmed by Rhodesian forces fighter planes. They included helicopters, fighter jets and spotter planes.

This was to be one of the longest battles I witnessed throughout the struggle.

The attack lasted five days.

Missiles rained all over, grenades were unleashed while guns were fired.

The enemy randomly attacked the whole area from early in the morning and only retreated at dusk.

One of the jets dropped a huge bomb, which, by God’s grace, did not detonate.

Had it set off, there were going to be massive casualties as it was dropped right in the middle of our camp.

The bomb just kept hissing, and no one dared to tamper with it because we thought any interference would trigger it.

We fought back hard and strategically retreated when necessary.

The enemy came with a well-crafted plan, but our defence systems proved to be a notch up.

Besides, we knew the area better than them, which automatically gave us an upper hand.

We had a few casualties on our side.

PM: What then happened to the bomb that did not explode since it was dropped at your base?

LM: After the five-day attack, we shifted base and left the bomb there.

Tampering with it was just too risky.

The Rhodesian forces had created a base close to our camp, which made it easy for them to continuously attack us.

Two of the guys who had gone in search of cigarettes died during the attack, while the other one was injured, but managed to hide until we discovered him. We transferred him to Catandica (Mozambique) for medical attention.

Just as I was recovering from this protracted combat, I once again found myself in another fierce battle at Nyakupinga, Stapleford Farm. I lost several colleagues during that battle.

We went to Nyakupinga and organised farm workers who were always in a fenced compound — with a single exit and entry point.

We organised a pungwe (night vigil) and by the time we decided to release the farm workers, the white man brutishly attacked us.

Our comrades — PC Kushinga and Onwell Magandanga, who was responsible for logistics — were shot and killed on the spot.

The battle lasted for hours, stretching into dawn.  Their aim was clearly to eliminate everyone who was part of the vigil.

However, we were always on the lookout for such unexpected attacks, thus we successfully fought back and strategically returned to our base.

We also helped create a safe passage for the farm workers.

I could go on and on about the war, but these were some of the major highlights of my liberation struggle experiences.

PM: Can you tell us your final journey towards demobilisation?

LM: When the war ended, I went to Dzapasi Assembly Point.

I was later called to be part of the integration between ZANLA and ZIPRA between 1980 and 1981.  We were a total of 100 comrades — 50 from each side.

I was selected to undergo military intelligence training.

We assembled at Inkomo Barracks.

Every candidate passed the test, but the instructors told us that they were only taking the top 50 candidates — 25 from ZANLA and the remaining half from ZIPRA.

The first batch embarked on a one-year-long training.

I was to join the second batch.

After completion, we would be deployed to different units.

As I awaited my turn, I was transferred to Zengeza 4, where there was another assembly point.

They did not want us to go back to Dzapasi.

That is around the time that some unfortunate skirmishes between ZANLA and ZIPRA took place.

I had to travel to Bulawayo (Entumbane) during that time as part of work.

The issue was later resolved.

In 1981, I was moved to a different barrack but still in Bulawayo for integration.

We were supposed to be integrated with some ZIPRA fighters, but when they got news that we had been at the front, they refused to join us.

We then trained alone.

After completing the training, I was deployed to the 2.6 Infantry Battalion in Mt Darwin.

In 1982, the barrack was disbanded since it only had ZANLA forces.

We were all deployed to different units around the country.

I was transferred to Mudzi.

But that same year, I went for demobilisation.

After six months, around 1983, I joined the Zimbabwe Republic Police.

I officially joined the Support Unit in 1984.

I rose through the ranks to become inspector in 2000.

I was then transferred to Harare Central, before moving to Featherstone, where I retired in 2005.

After retirement, I joined active politics.

I was first elected district chairperson in Mutegesa Ward 1 (Chikomba).

I later moved to Macheke in 2013.

I am now within the party structures, under the War Veterans League, as secretary in Hanwa district, Macheke.

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