- Dear Jeff,
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- This was written by a "war vet" working for
Mugabe's government to take over white farms. It gives some insight into
what is going on there.
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- Best wishes
Peter W.
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-
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- JF in Matabeleland received this diary from one of the
government-sponsored thugs enforcing this week's deadline for the final
withdrawal of white farmers from their land. While he cannot be named,
he wanted it published as a personal gesture of defiance against the vortex
of violence that has become his life.
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- Wednesday, August 7
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- I am woken by a phone call from the boss and told to
report to the Zanu-PF offices at 8am.
-
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- "The day has finally come my friend," my governor
shouts down the line, "we are going to show these British settlers
that they have outstayed their welcome."
-
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- For the past two years, I have organised invasions, beatings,
abductions and even murder on behalf of Mugabe's government. I used to
think of it as my own guerrilla war - I was too young to have fought for
independence.
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- It did not take that long for me to realise that there
is nothing heroic or brave about terrorising people just because they are
white or vote for another party. I don't even get paid for doing his dirty
work any more. It is a life sentence. If I leave, I will be hunted down
and shot like an animal.
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- The meeting is at the government complex in Bulawayo.
More than 300 of us - war veterans and youth militia - are packed into
the hall. Ignatius Chombo, a nephew of Mugabe's and head of the land reform
programme, leads the meeting.
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- He can probably tell we have lost our thirst for blood.
He shouts and shakes his fist. He accuses the white farmers of being arrogant,
selfish and superior. "They don't want to share their treasures with
you because you are just worthless blacks."
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- The youths whistle and shout and dance on the spot, calling
for blood. I command a battalion of about 200 youths and we are to be given
police riot uniforms, though none of us are police officers. Chombo says
we must be seen to be working with the "might of the law" on
our side.
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- I return home with dread in my stomach. I have brought
no money home for months and rely on wife's salary, but some months she
doesn't get paid either. I am an embarrassment to her and my children and
I wish I could change the past.
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- Three years ago, I was made redundant from my job as
a trainee manager at a factory. I began hawking on the streets and had
a few guys working for me. I was hoping to open a shop one day.
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- Then I was spotted by a Zanu-PF official who recruited
me into the militia as a commander. I knew in my heart that it would end
badly, but was promised land, a car, money and power. I signed up.
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- Thursday, August 8
-
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- The eviction deadline for white farmers is tonight. I
am told to gather my youths and send them on to the land and show the whites
we mean business. I have a list of 60 farms in the areas to be cleared
as a priority. They are owned by MDC supporters or allocated to ministers
or friends of Mugabe. I am allocated police riot uniforms for my teams.
Once night begins to fall, I drive groups to farms surrounding Bulawayo
with orders to "hassle and unsettle" the farmers and their workers.
We have been told to take everything from the property "except clothes".
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- After dropping off my last group of youths, I stop off
at the homestead of a white farmer who has become a friend. Over a cup
of sweet tea, I tell this man, who should be my enemy, where the roadblocks
will be the following day so he can avoid trouble.
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- He has built a clinic and a school on his land. There
is no way they can stay open if he quits. We agree that the situation is
a mess. But at least I can try to make sure this white is spared the worst
of any violence.
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- I rejoin one of my groups who are sitting at the gate
of a tobacco farm. I try to relax over a game of cards. Someone accuses
someone else of cheating. Punches and insults are thrown. At the end of
the day, we are just a bunch of kids dressed up as policemen.
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- Friday, August 9
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- The youths are up at daybreak and anxious to see some
action. One has a box of matches and says he is going to start burning.
The farm workers come and go as though we are not there and this angers
the militia.
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- The governor calls and orders me back into town for another
meeting. I tell the youths they must not act without my orders. I give
one of them a punch in the head to show they have to listen to what I say.
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- I hear shouting as I walk into the Zanu-PF offices. Chiefs
in Harare say there are details still to be worked out before we can move
our men onto the land, but that the notices will be enforced. There is
no extension to the deadline: they insist "stubborn and selfish"
whites will learn their lesson.
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- Our boss is frustrated. "We have waited too long
already," he yells at me. I listen to the radio which reports that
farmers are leaving their land in huge numbers. But that is not what I
have seen with my own eyes.
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- Saturday, August 10
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- Another meeting. Bernard Chidzero, Zimbabwe's first black
finance minister, who died last week, has been declared a national hero.
The President says he will be buried on Monday - Heroes' Day - at Heroes
Acre in Harare. We are not to let the farmers steal any attention from
him, the bosses say.
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- I hear "grace period" being mentioned and am
told to be ready for the "day of reckoning" on Tuesday.
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- I go back to the rural areas to let the youth know what
is going on. On the way, I stop off to see my white farmer friend to tell
him to relax for the rest of the weekend.
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