Opinion / Columnist
From whose hands will their blood be required?
02 Aug 2018 at 23:19hrs | Views
Part One
Wednesday, 1st August 2018 will forever be a day to forget for many Zimbabweans who found themselves in the Harare City Centre that fateful afternoon. I had chanced to be in town for some business when about 13:30hrs at the corner of Park Street and Kwame Nkrumah I ran into some rowdy youths marching, whistling and bearing sticks. Ordinary onlookers were scurrying for cover, running away from these youths who were dragging, coercing and indeed beating up bystanders urging them to join their march. I entered a FirstPack Shop at that corner, who hurriedly closed their doors behind me as they were afraid of having their goods looted by the rowdy crowd.
As I remembered the rhetoric by the main opposition party formation, the MDC Alliance Mr. Nelson Chamisa, that they would accept no other vote but a win for their party, I realised this was the so called march to 'protect their vote'. I engaged in conversation with some shop assistants wherein I had found shelter, hoping to find some common ground for sanity but it soon became apparent that these young people, particularly one young lady, were genuinely angry at what they perceived as a stealing of their vote which 'was in progress'. " We have these embarrassing jobs while you, Zanu PF fat cats have all the real jobs and the money!" she labelled me. "We have never known what proper opportunities look like", she continued. Looking at her, I put her age between 25 and 30 years, I could understand her since she was obviously born during the failed governance years of Robert Mugabe. Many of her age may have all qualifications necessary but have never been employed. They desperately need jobs, need some hope, and in a space of two short months the whirlwind campaign of Mr. Chamisa had captured their imaginations, in as much as it appeared hallucinatory to those my age perhaps and beyond.
At this point I became angry at Mr. Nelson Chamisa. To his credit he had found a good narrative of creating hope and expectation under his presidency should he win. The talk of spaghetti roads, rural airports and bullet trains strangely resonated with these impressionable youths. But who could blame them, they could not relate it to any realities in their past because these things are totally new to most of them, and therefore they have no idea what it takes to get them. But what made me angry was therefore the peddling of the propaganda that any outcome other than a Nelson Chamisa win would be a theft of the election, to such impressionable minds. Now they believed, without a shred of evidence and in defiance of all opinion polls and analyses, that only a Chamisa win was the only possible outcome. Secondly, his campaign had made them doubt ZEC's credibility when in actual truth he knows as should any informed lawyer on our electoral laws, that the provisions and extend of the law is what needs revamping, and that this can only be done by and through parliament. The commissioners, from my experience working with them, have lots of different frustrations from the limitations of the law as it is present. Finally, to give one's supporters the notion that ZEC was deliberately withholding results only into second day after the polls when the electoral law clearly says the election management body has up to five days to declare the result was simply unfair.
I reminded myself that I was a neutral player in the election playing field and dropped the argument to continue with my business, though I was quite shocked at the tangible tension that I could feel in the atmosphere. A friend I was moving around with wanted to meet someone at the corner of Mbuya Nehanda and Jason Moyo Avenue, downtown. This area is near ZEC head offices. As we drove we realised there were more demonstrators picketing on Jason Moyo and we could not cross. We parked and I went to take a closer look and took a video, whereupon I and a few others were challenged to stop filming. Again the mood in the crowd was noticeably of a determined anger. I moved on to continue with my business, then left the general area. What surprised me on trying to negotiate my way out of town was the congestion and dash of drivers all wanting to get out. With the benefit of hindsight, I later realised some may have received word that military tankers were coming into town.
A few minutes later when we stopped for lunch at Kebab restaurant 2 or 3 kilometers out of town, we could see protesters being held back by riot police with water canons firing. The police were hiding behind their shields. That looked the normal picture from the world over wherever there are protesters. Within the space of a few minutes, this picture was to change dramatically.
In movie style, I got the shock of my life to see tankers rolling into the streets where we had been just a few minutes before, with soldiers firing and the crowd fleeing. I could not believe what I was seeing. You have to remember that the last fond memory most Zimbabweans hold was that of their dalliance with the soldiers from November 2017 when the soldiers provided the masses with a shield as they marched to express their anger at the misrule of former president Robert Mugabe. On that memorable day, we rode tankers and took selfies with soldiers, and they were christened 'the people's soldiers'. Many single ladies for once countenanced getting married to a military husband, we were enamored by what the soldiers represented that day, defenders of the defenseless, indeed defenders of our universe. We thought then that they had indelibly etched themselves irreversibly into the psyche of Zimbabweans as heroes. Many truly believed that solidarity march would mark the end of heavy handedness by the security forces against citizens wishing to demonstrate in any way and for any cause in Zimbabwe. And here they were, rolling all that back in one crazy afternoon.
My anger against Mr. Chamisa transformed into dismay and indignation against the establishment. I felt a big let down. How could they let us down like this, we thought we had something nice going on between the citizens and the military? Was there no chemistry? Were we wrong? We definitely were naive, I concluded. It is like a hunter who hunts with a lion, the lion is in it for the kill, to have it all. If the hunter benefits from the leftovers, that is his luck, otherwise the hunt belongs to the king of the jungle. If push comes to shove and there is no kill, the lion finds it logical to prey on the hunter.
How could this be? How could we be so let down? Does the leopard truly not change its spots? Whose fault was this, anyway? Was it Mr. Nelson Chamisa's problem for apparently inciting violence? Was it the junta's faulty for reacting disproportionately? Are they running away from shadows of ghosts not completely exorcised from November 2017 that make them react in such an unreasonable way? In whose hands will the blood of those slain on this day (officially six) be required in the day of reckoning?
To be continued…
Wednesday, 1st August 2018 will forever be a day to forget for many Zimbabweans who found themselves in the Harare City Centre that fateful afternoon. I had chanced to be in town for some business when about 13:30hrs at the corner of Park Street and Kwame Nkrumah I ran into some rowdy youths marching, whistling and bearing sticks. Ordinary onlookers were scurrying for cover, running away from these youths who were dragging, coercing and indeed beating up bystanders urging them to join their march. I entered a FirstPack Shop at that corner, who hurriedly closed their doors behind me as they were afraid of having their goods looted by the rowdy crowd.
As I remembered the rhetoric by the main opposition party formation, the MDC Alliance Mr. Nelson Chamisa, that they would accept no other vote but a win for their party, I realised this was the so called march to 'protect their vote'. I engaged in conversation with some shop assistants wherein I had found shelter, hoping to find some common ground for sanity but it soon became apparent that these young people, particularly one young lady, were genuinely angry at what they perceived as a stealing of their vote which 'was in progress'. " We have these embarrassing jobs while you, Zanu PF fat cats have all the real jobs and the money!" she labelled me. "We have never known what proper opportunities look like", she continued. Looking at her, I put her age between 25 and 30 years, I could understand her since she was obviously born during the failed governance years of Robert Mugabe. Many of her age may have all qualifications necessary but have never been employed. They desperately need jobs, need some hope, and in a space of two short months the whirlwind campaign of Mr. Chamisa had captured their imaginations, in as much as it appeared hallucinatory to those my age perhaps and beyond.
At this point I became angry at Mr. Nelson Chamisa. To his credit he had found a good narrative of creating hope and expectation under his presidency should he win. The talk of spaghetti roads, rural airports and bullet trains strangely resonated with these impressionable youths. But who could blame them, they could not relate it to any realities in their past because these things are totally new to most of them, and therefore they have no idea what it takes to get them. But what made me angry was therefore the peddling of the propaganda that any outcome other than a Nelson Chamisa win would be a theft of the election, to such impressionable minds. Now they believed, without a shred of evidence and in defiance of all opinion polls and analyses, that only a Chamisa win was the only possible outcome. Secondly, his campaign had made them doubt ZEC's credibility when in actual truth he knows as should any informed lawyer on our electoral laws, that the provisions and extend of the law is what needs revamping, and that this can only be done by and through parliament. The commissioners, from my experience working with them, have lots of different frustrations from the limitations of the law as it is present. Finally, to give one's supporters the notion that ZEC was deliberately withholding results only into second day after the polls when the electoral law clearly says the election management body has up to five days to declare the result was simply unfair.
I reminded myself that I was a neutral player in the election playing field and dropped the argument to continue with my business, though I was quite shocked at the tangible tension that I could feel in the atmosphere. A friend I was moving around with wanted to meet someone at the corner of Mbuya Nehanda and Jason Moyo Avenue, downtown. This area is near ZEC head offices. As we drove we realised there were more demonstrators picketing on Jason Moyo and we could not cross. We parked and I went to take a closer look and took a video, whereupon I and a few others were challenged to stop filming. Again the mood in the crowd was noticeably of a determined anger. I moved on to continue with my business, then left the general area. What surprised me on trying to negotiate my way out of town was the congestion and dash of drivers all wanting to get out. With the benefit of hindsight, I later realised some may have received word that military tankers were coming into town.
A few minutes later when we stopped for lunch at Kebab restaurant 2 or 3 kilometers out of town, we could see protesters being held back by riot police with water canons firing. The police were hiding behind their shields. That looked the normal picture from the world over wherever there are protesters. Within the space of a few minutes, this picture was to change dramatically.
In movie style, I got the shock of my life to see tankers rolling into the streets where we had been just a few minutes before, with soldiers firing and the crowd fleeing. I could not believe what I was seeing. You have to remember that the last fond memory most Zimbabweans hold was that of their dalliance with the soldiers from November 2017 when the soldiers provided the masses with a shield as they marched to express their anger at the misrule of former president Robert Mugabe. On that memorable day, we rode tankers and took selfies with soldiers, and they were christened 'the people's soldiers'. Many single ladies for once countenanced getting married to a military husband, we were enamored by what the soldiers represented that day, defenders of the defenseless, indeed defenders of our universe. We thought then that they had indelibly etched themselves irreversibly into the psyche of Zimbabweans as heroes. Many truly believed that solidarity march would mark the end of heavy handedness by the security forces against citizens wishing to demonstrate in any way and for any cause in Zimbabwe. And here they were, rolling all that back in one crazy afternoon.
My anger against Mr. Chamisa transformed into dismay and indignation against the establishment. I felt a big let down. How could they let us down like this, we thought we had something nice going on between the citizens and the military? Was there no chemistry? Were we wrong? We definitely were naive, I concluded. It is like a hunter who hunts with a lion, the lion is in it for the kill, to have it all. If the hunter benefits from the leftovers, that is his luck, otherwise the hunt belongs to the king of the jungle. If push comes to shove and there is no kill, the lion finds it logical to prey on the hunter.
How could this be? How could we be so let down? Does the leopard truly not change its spots? Whose fault was this, anyway? Was it Mr. Nelson Chamisa's problem for apparently inciting violence? Was it the junta's faulty for reacting disproportionately? Are they running away from shadows of ghosts not completely exorcised from November 2017 that make them react in such an unreasonable way? In whose hands will the blood of those slain on this day (officially six) be required in the day of reckoning?
To be continued…
Source - Patrick Tendayi Huni
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