The Sunday Mail
ISAAC Amon Marisa Chidhakwa was born on July 7, 1956 in Zaka, before his parents moved to Gokwe, where, as fate would have it, he was to meet the late nationalist Dr Herbert Ushewokunze, who took the “young and intelligent man” into his custody and moved him to Bulawayo in 1973. But Rhodesia being Rhodesia, Isaac, together with his two friends, were flogged by a white man for helping themselves to water which was flowing at a fountain at Grey Hotel, then one of the bastions of white colonialism in the country. The beating awakened the lingering revolutionary spirit in the adolescent, who immediately decided to leave the country, opting for the rather arduous Chiredzi route, instead of the popular Plumtree-Francistown connection. This is the story of how Isaac Amon Marisa Chidhakwa transformed into Cde Rex Bongozozo, as told in a narration with GARIKAI MAZARA.
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Q: Probably some background will help us understand you better?
A: My parents moved to Gokwe after I had just finished my Standard 6 at St Peter’s in Zaka. Unfortunately, there were no secondary schools in Gokwe by that time. By chance I met Dr Herbert Ushewokunze at Zhamba where he was opening a clinic and he was impressed by my intelligence.
When I explained to him the circumstances which forced me to discontinue school, he offered to take me to Bulawayo where I started Form One at Mpopoma Secondary. I was staying with him at his residence in Makokoba.
Then one day we had a sporting event at Tshabalala Secondary School and we went to town thereafter and as we were passing Grey Hotel, we got into the hotel yard and helped ourselves to some water as we were thirsty. A white man who was watching us from a window called us.
We were beaten thoroughly and I got home crying to which Dr Ushewokunze took us back to the hotel as he wanted to make a police report. But our efforts were futile as at the entrance of the hotel, there was a sign which said “whites only”.
From there, I got some political and geographical lessons from Dr Ushewokunze. He told me how whites did not like us at all, that if you check all the towns in the country, they built the black suburbs on the western side, industries in the middle and white suburbs on the east.
And they never got to breathe the dirty air that is emitted by the industries.
From thereon I got infuriated and said I should go and join the liberation struggle. This was in 1974 and it was during the transition for Mozambique’s independence.
During the holidays, I was supposed to go home, Gokwe, but I decided to go to Chiredzi to visit my uncle, Cletus Musarava, who worked for Hippo Valley and was influential in political issues. He was supportive of my cause to join the liberation struggle and even suggested that I join hands with two other guys whom he knew were keen on crossing into Mozambique.
We made our arrangements and on December 23, we boarded a Mazise Bus at Tshovane terminus, our cover being we were going to Chikore to look for school places. During the journey, I think the excitement of going to war got over us and we were discussing how and what we were going to do.
There was Simbarashe Muchawu, Kizito Rushiri and myself, with Kizito being the eldest. Little did we know that there were informers, or Special Branch, in that bus.
Then at Checheche, that is where the horror started, this was around seven or eight in the evening. The bus had previously stopped at Jack Quinton Bridge, the one over Save River, I think that is where the information had been relayed by the informers in the bus.
A Land Rover overtook us and parked in front of the bus and ordered everyone out. The policemen came and said, “Here, they are here. One, two, three — get into the car”. In the car, they were accusing us of being terrorists and back in Chiredzi, they locked us for two days.
On the third day, they called the eldest, Kizito, I think he was about 22. He got out around 8am and for another two days they didn’t come back to us.
Again on the third day after taking Kizito, they came back and asked us where we were going. We told them that we were going to look for school places.
But they said our colleague had already confessed that we were going to join the liberation struggle. But we insisted that since we were poor and could not afford fees, we were going to Chikore to look for places.
Chikore was a school where one could work and earn their fees.
We refused their story and we produced our school passes. Then one by one, they took us out of the cells and for three days we were tortured, hitting us under the feet, trying to coerce us to admit that we were, indeed, going to join the liberation struggle.
For a week we could not walk but that did not stop them from hitting us. Any time of the day or night, they would come to us and hit us. Up to now, I still remember their names like it was yesterday. There was Constable Chipezeze, Sergeant Siyamufinya and a white man, Inspector Scott.
Then one day in January, this was now 1975, they took us to Gonarezhou game park and there was this dark room. They hit us the whole night and they took us back the following morning. But we still denied their charge.
Q: That is the three of you?
A: No, we were now two. Kizito, from the day he was taken from us, he was never brought back until February. In their presence, he said; “Vakomana, chingobvumai zvipere takangobatwa”. We flatly refused those were our intentions, that if it was him intending to go to join then it was him, not us.
He was charged and given five years, of which one-and-half were suspended. We stayed in the cells until March 17, that is when we were released. Our resolve to join the struggle was even more now.
Q: So your uncle in Chiredzi didn’t know the ordeals you were going through?
A: He knew, he even brought us food in the cells. Even my mother travelled all the way from Gokwe to see us but she was told to go back as she would break down in court.
During his visits, we even told him of our intentions to continue with our journey once freed and he prepared for us: shoes, food, everything that one would need on such a journey.
After our release, we said we were no longer boarding a bus but walking. We had been given a warrant, for me to travel back to Bulawayo and bus fare for Simbarashe, who was a local guy from Hippo Valley.
After our release at 8am, we hung around Tshovane bus terminus until dark. Then we started our journey on foot, travelling by night and resting by day.
It took us two days to get to Jack Quinton Bridge, which was to be our first challenge was it was guarded.
I was the first to cross and as I was about to finish crossing, some people came running to the bridge, I think they should have heard my footsteps because the bridge produced some sound when walking on it. I ran to the end and hid under some bush and some shots were fired. Realising that they had seen noone they went back to their positions.
After some minutes, Simbarashe managed to cross without any incident. Then we started our journey, this time following Save River, as we wanted to bypass the township.
We spent the whole night walking, going in the Chisumbanje direction. At dawn, we found a thicket under which we hid for the whole day, mind you we had enough food on us.
During our stay in that thicket, we came across some old man, who offered us food, which we declined because we had our own. But we wanted directions from him. Our previous ordeals had taught us not to trust anyone, so as soon as the old man gave us directions, we changed positions, fearing that he might sell us out. We then travelled to Mabee and about 10km from the Mozambican border we sought sanctuary in a gulley.
We again met another old man who offered to take us to the village head across in Mozambique, who in turn took us to a soldiers’ camp. The Frelimo soldiers we found there were cheeky, they interrogated us, saying we had been sent by the Portuguese. They would fire guns at our feet while we were seated and any movements, you would get shot. After checking on our resolve, we stayed with them from March to June, then after their independence celebrations, June 25, they said we could move on.
During our stay, they had started teaching us some basic war tactics as they were now friendly to us. After their independence celebrations, we were taken to Espungabeira, from where we were to be taken to Machaze.
At Machaze, we met Cde Bhila (vice chairperson of War Veterans Association) and Cde Jane Madenguzana who is now in Chegutu. They were about 30 who had run away from Chirinda and Chikore schools. The numbers kept on swelling until it was decided that the camp was getting too small. But before we moved from Machaze, that is when the former president, Robert Mugabe, and Edgar Tekere, arrived, in the company of Cde Amos Tsana who introduced the two, saying these are your politicians.
Q: Let us rewind a little bit, comrade. When you were in Bulawayo, wasn’t it easier and convenient to join Zapu or Zipra and go to the struggle through Botswana?
A: To go to Botswana was easier and was a shorter route, but because during my stay with Dr Ushewokunze, we had no good relations with Ndebele-speaking people because I was a junior with Mashonaland United football club and we were clashing all the time. So to me it was like, if we are clashing here, what if we go to war? So I decided to take the longer route.
Q: OK, Chibawawa?
A: Yes, at Chibawawa we had Jonisirasi Misihairambwi as our camp commander and Teurai Ropa Nhongo as our political commissar and my company was called Chindunduma, made up of mostly under-18 boys. We were now tired of being idle and we wanted some training so that we could go back to fight but there was always an excuse.
So one day we decided to walk, about 25 kilometres, the whole Chindunduma company, to Chimoio, because we had heard that training was ongoing there. When we were about to arrive, we came across some Frelimo soldiers who drove us back to Chibawawa, so that 25km journey on foot was futile.
They said you cannot go for training without the knowledge of your commanders, so we were brought back to Chibawawa and we stayed there until 1976, when we were taken to Tanzania, to take up the Nachingwea training camp which had been occupied by Frelimo.
In the next instalment, Rhodesian infiltration was everywhere and it was by some sheer stroke of luck and mistiming on the part of the Rhodesians that Cde Rex and his company avoided boarding the wrong plane in Beira, which could have taken them back to Salisbury and possible hanging. Don’t miss the next instalment.
