Zimbabwe war veteran bemoans neglect

At 70, Priscilla Sithole, a former Zipra fighter and ex-councillor, recalls the 1970s liberation struggle not through triumphant slogans or dates, but in the lives lost, the children never born, and the comrades whose bones still lie in the bush.

Sithole joined the struggle at 19, undergoing grueling military training that left many women physically and emotionally scarred. "Our trainings were very difficult — sometimes you would be thrown in water for days until your body was weak," she recounted. The harsh conditions left lasting effects: broken bodies, damaged eyesight, and health complications that persist decades later. Many female fighters returned home unable to conceive and were unfairly blamed by their families and communities.

Born in 1955 in Mathuphula, Tsholotsho, Sithole's early education was cut short by financial constraints. By 1973, she was involved in youth activism in Bulawayo and later moved to Botswana and Victory Camp with her siblings before attending military training at Mukushi in 1978. She survived a violent attack in October that year, sustaining multiple injuries while witnessing the deaths of comrades.

Sithole stresses that the bonds formed during the struggle were built on equality, shared hardship, and unwavering camaraderie. "No one was better than another. We shared food, pain, laughter and tears," she said. Yet today, she laments, that spirit of comradeship has faded.

For Sithole and many fellow veterans, the physical and psychological toll of the war has not been met with adequate support. Persistent pain, untreated injuries, and limited pensions leave them struggling to survive. "We are sick, in pain, all in one," she said. "We fought for this country, but when you are old and suffering, it is as if the country has forgotten you."

Beyond health concerns, Sithole highlights the lack of recognition and proper burial for those who died in the struggle. Families continue to wait for remains from unmarked graves, and many contributions—by nurses, teachers, cooks, and midwives in the camps—go unacknowledged. "Everyone played their part. Why should only a few be honoured?" she asked.

Sithole also underscores the urgent need for psychological support. War-time trauma lingers, and many veterans continue to grapple with nightmares and unresolved grief. "We need counselling. We need spaces where we can sit as comrades, talk about the nightmares we carry, and maybe find healing," she said.

Her message is clear: the sacrifices of all who contributed to Zimbabwe's liberation, in every role, must be remembered and honoured. Beyond medals or ceremonies, Sithole calls for healthcare, counselling, and dignity for those who gave everything for the country they helped to free.