Opinion / Columnist
The war of liberation was not a walk in the park
8 hrs ago | Views
Tik-tok, tik-tok, goes the Big Ben clock with no respite, time will never run out of time because it's indestructible. It's people who run out of time, not time running out of itself.
In my wartime operational area, I mean the war of liberation that forced the Smith regime to the pen and ushered in the great Uhuru, villagers and 'Vakomana' freedom fighters jellied together like were cradled from the same kitchen hut. And, after all, were they not? Indeed they were. Reconnaissance and relaying of vital strategic information to the combatants was done right under the long noses of the enemy without them noticing any 'smoking' gun. Mujibha and Chimbwido were the most successful intelligence officers of our time. Even the Rhodies did not know what hit them. Landmines were ferried by scotchcarts and food taken to the boys under the guise of false pregnancies where the purported bulge was in fact tuck for the fighters.
Ward 3 in Mazowe North Constituency in Chiweshe had become the theatre of war, the Second Chimurenga. Gun sounds became everyday sonic echoes with copters capping off the torture, death and untold suffering. Death had lost its meaning because of the frequency and prolonged exposure of the dead.
Adults do not cry, the anguish is visible all over their faces. Tear wells had dried up, only furrowed lines indicated a deluge of tears from the onset of the war. Burials ceased to be village events but only the bereaved family. The torment, the suffering and the deprivation was all over everywhere. The once youthful Mujibhas and Chimbwidos are now in the twilight of their lives, faces contorted with time. Elderly Tondo is still hopeful of some assistance to go into chicken farming.
Even a stand at my home business centre would rekindle the flame of the 'Pungwes' and sooth the 'sad joys' of the protracted war of liberation. The sacrifices, destroyed homes, the concentration camp (Keep 5), brutality of the Guard force and all still cause me to sweat and lose sleep. Sad joys would occur when settler forces were ambushed and obliterated but with one or two freedom fighters fallen at the contact.
At the sound of a detonated landmine villagers would ullulate and dance in the dark despite the hardships. Reliving the War in Chiweshe. Independence did not come on a silver plater. Our pro-people government I believe, will one day remember the once quick footed but now frail and diabetic Mujibha Tondo. Leaving no one and no place behind.
Cde Mutanda Wachingama. Mash. Central.
In my wartime operational area, I mean the war of liberation that forced the Smith regime to the pen and ushered in the great Uhuru, villagers and 'Vakomana' freedom fighters jellied together like were cradled from the same kitchen hut. And, after all, were they not? Indeed they were. Reconnaissance and relaying of vital strategic information to the combatants was done right under the long noses of the enemy without them noticing any 'smoking' gun. Mujibha and Chimbwido were the most successful intelligence officers of our time. Even the Rhodies did not know what hit them. Landmines were ferried by scotchcarts and food taken to the boys under the guise of false pregnancies where the purported bulge was in fact tuck for the fighters.
Ward 3 in Mazowe North Constituency in Chiweshe had become the theatre of war, the Second Chimurenga. Gun sounds became everyday sonic echoes with copters capping off the torture, death and untold suffering. Death had lost its meaning because of the frequency and prolonged exposure of the dead.
Adults do not cry, the anguish is visible all over their faces. Tear wells had dried up, only furrowed lines indicated a deluge of tears from the onset of the war. Burials ceased to be village events but only the bereaved family. The torment, the suffering and the deprivation was all over everywhere. The once youthful Mujibhas and Chimbwidos are now in the twilight of their lives, faces contorted with time. Elderly Tondo is still hopeful of some assistance to go into chicken farming.
Even a stand at my home business centre would rekindle the flame of the 'Pungwes' and sooth the 'sad joys' of the protracted war of liberation. The sacrifices, destroyed homes, the concentration camp (Keep 5), brutality of the Guard force and all still cause me to sweat and lose sleep. Sad joys would occur when settler forces were ambushed and obliterated but with one or two freedom fighters fallen at the contact.
At the sound of a detonated landmine villagers would ullulate and dance in the dark despite the hardships. Reliving the War in Chiweshe. Independence did not come on a silver plater. Our pro-people government I believe, will one day remember the once quick footed but now frail and diabetic Mujibha Tondo. Leaving no one and no place behind.
Cde Mutanda Wachingama. Mash. Central.
Source - Cde Mutanda Wachingama
All articles and letters published on Bulawayo24 have been independently written by members of Bulawayo24's community. The views of users published on Bulawayo24 are therefore their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Bulawayo24. Bulawayo24 editors also reserve the right to edit or delete any and all comments received.
