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Kudakwashe Mugari
Deputy News Editor
ALL my life, I have never seen a horse racing enthusiast like Colonel (Rtd) Tshinga Dube.
So enthusiastic was he, that he followed up into retirement, all horses that made him win bets and bought them.
He had a collection of such retired horses as souvenirs at his plot in Ruwa, on the outskirts of Harare. The Durban July in South Africa was his biggest horse racing fiesta followed by Dubai race in the United Arab Emirates and Borrowdale race in Harare.
“The fastest horse of Makokoba”, as I called him, always cherished the prospects of watching all the horses that made him win his bets and make big money, grazing in one place at his plot.
It made him feel good.
One day, I escorted “Umdala” to his routine kidney dialysis session and even as the doctor worked on him, he was watching horse racing on TV.
We later laughed it off. Horse racing and betting was his life. He made big monies out of it, too.
He confided in me that he had bought his first farm in Shangani, Matabeleland South province from betting on horses.
I was very close to him. When I say very close, I mean very, very, very close. Tight!
Now, God has taken back his gift.
Col Tshinga Dube wore many hats; from military officer to farmer, horserace enthusiast, ardent Highlanders fan, father and fatherly figure.
My first encounter with Col Dube was when I published a story at The People’s Voice about Zimbabwe Defence Industries (ZDI) operations. All hell broke loose and he was angry at me.
Two soldiers came to pick me from my office at Zanu PF headquarters, 7th floor.
I was the Editor of People’s Voice.
The officers were friendly as they drove me to Col Tshinga Dube’s ZDI offices at 8th floor ZTA House. I arrived and was shoved straight into his office.
It was him and two other gentlemen wearing black suits and another lady who later became the secretary in our meeting.
I greeted the other guys and the lady, but one man was on the phone speaking in isiNdebele and also watching television. I noticed there was horse racing on the screen. After some tense 10 minutes of waiting and refusing the tea and water on offer, the man banged his phone and with a smile introduced himself, “Mafana how are you? I’m Rtd Colonel Tshinga Dube. Do you like horses? Should I switch off the television set?”
I quickly answered and said no sir. I also introduced myself and quickly the other guy started by telling me why I had been called for that meeting.
I tried by all means to defend the story in my paper but they would not accept my views.
After about 30 minutes of frank talk and a bit of history of events before and after independence, I asked for forgiveness and we shook hands. Of course, I had agreed to retract the story.
Col Dube closed the meeting by joking about horses. The other guys left and I was left with Col Dube who invited me to watch with him the biggest horserace on that day, “Durbanville race”.
After the race I realised he had won. He had put his money on the horse that came out first. We exchanged numbers and called it a day. I went back to the office and retracted the story.
The next day he phoned and invited me for dinner at his house.
At 6pm he sent a driver who picked me and took me to his house in Ruwa. That night, he took me down memory lane, telling me how he joined the struggle and went to Russia for military training. He also showed me pictures of himself.
We also spoke about his favourite sport of horseracing.
He also showed me horses at his plot.
It was after this encounter that I also developed a passion for horses and farming.
From there, we opened lines of communication and I would regularly visit him in hospital during times when he would be on dialysis.
Those occasions I visited him in hospital I realised that in his room there would be a television set, with him glued to the set and watching horse racing.
Instead of us talking about his health, he would insist on us talking about horses; breeding horses and the horse industry.
One Friday morning, Col Dube phoned to tell me that on Sunday we would be going to Borrowdale racecourse for the biggest race in the SADC region.
He also told me that we were going to make money on that race day.
Anxiety took the better of me, I just could not wait.
That Sunday morning, at 7am I was at his gate.
He told me that I was the one to drive him and had told his driver to take a rest.
His wife gave me pills and packed food for the old man and told me to remind him to take his pills on time.
At Borrowdale, the atmosphere was electric. We sat with former President Mugabe’s Chief of Protocol Ambassador Munyaradzi Kajese, two white guys from South Africa and another horse racing enthusiast from Singapore.
The conversation was all about horses and the main race of that day. When the main race started, Col Dube was cheering a horse named Shirley.
“Shirley come on, come on Shirley, take me home Shirley ,Shirley, Shirley, Shirley . . . Beautiful Shirley,” be bellowed with excitement.
Shirley won the race from position number 4.
That day, I saw Col Dube filled with excitement, stamping his feet on the ground with his hands aloft.
He hugged me and told me: “Mafana we have won.”
We went back home and along the way, it was all about horses. On Monday he called me to his office and gave me US$16 000 as my share of the race winnings.
I didn’t believe it. I asked myself, so if he gave me all this money how much had we won?
I went home and put the money in the litter bin near the gate because I didn’t want my wife to see it lest she would ask a lot of questions. But that night I didn’t sleep, thinking about the money and how I would use it .
Early next morning, I went to Beitbridge and bought a Toyota Hiace kombi and that was how I started my transport business.
I began to like horses and started pushing Col Dube to teach me how to make more money with horses.
Our relationship deepened to the extent of staying in his house whenever I visited Bulawayo or was in transit to Victoria Falls.
An opening arose in Makokoba constituency and Col Dube was in the race for the seat.
I had to relocate to Bulawayo and help him campaign in Makokoba at the same time learning more isiNdebele as I was staying in the City of Kings.
After the campaigns, we did horses but his wife didn’t like it.
The campaign in Makokoba was a bit tricky. I didn’t think Col Dube would make it because urban areas were opposition strongholds and he was from the ruling party. One day I asked him if he was positive that he would win and he told me that he was the fastest horse in Makokoba and true to his word, he won the race to become the Member of Parliament for that constituency. From that day we nicknamed him the “Fastest horse in Makokoba”.
Time went by and Col Dube’s health deteriorated. He was in and out of hospital but always wore a brave face despite the health challenges
He was a fighter and real soldier.
One day I received a call from Col Dube before 6am and he told me that he was at Mater Dei Hospital. I said to him “get well soon I will pray for you” and he thundered: “Don’t pray for me, I’m not dying. Can you go see the Vice President John Landa Nkomo and get my pills and bring them here.”
I went to the late Vice President’s office and the secretary let me in after telling her that I had been sent by Col Dube.
VP Nkomo gave me a ticket, pills and some cash.
From there, I went to the airport and flew to Bulawayo. I arrived and two guys picked me up and proceeded straight to the hospital. In his room I found him watching horse races alone and he said: “Mafana you are here? Please come watch the Durban race.”
I gave the doctors the pills that I got from VP who had sourced them from India. The doctor administered two injections on Col Dube but he was busy watching the horse race on TV. I went and slept at his home that night and on the next day, I was back in Harare.
Later on, he became a Cabinet Minister and I would go to his office and we would talk horses.
Fast forward a week before his death, on my way to Lupane, I called him while in Gweru to let him know that I was passing by to see him before I proceeded with my journey.
The wife answered the phone and told me: “Your father is ill at Mater Dei Hospital”
She told me the doctors didn’t want him to be on the phone. That pained me but I told myself that when I arrive I will visit him but it was already after 5pm, past visiting hour.
While I was in Ntabazinduna around 7pm, I got an SMS from a NetOne line saying, “Come to Mater Dei Hospital this evening and see me”.
Wow I knew it was the “fastest horse” communicating with me.
I arrived at the hospital after 8pm and when I phoned that number, I was given directions and within minutes I was in his ward. He looked frail but managed a smile. His voice was faint and I had to put my head near his face and asked him how he was feeling. He replied, “I’m fine. So you came to see me?” and I said yes.
He said the doctors didn’t want him to be on the phone.
Weird thing on that day was the television set.
It was off. For the first time, Col Dube wasn’t watching horses on television.
We talked about other issues and he promised me that when he came out of hospital, he would come to Harare to see me.
I proceeded to Lupane and later on came back to Harare.
I was calling his phone daily and the wife was answering updating me on the situation until last week around 7.30pm when I got a call from Chronicle Editor Lawson Mabhena. We spoke about the US$4 million heist and later on he said, “ko nematambudziko aCde Tshinga.”
The fastest horse had rested.
I dialled Col Dube’s number and the phone rang but was not picked and on the second attempt the wife picked, but she was just crying.
Go well Col Dube my mentor. You were my father. You taught me how to speak isiNdebele. You taught me to adopt Bulawayo as my second home.
All the nights watching television and talking about your war experiences are no more.
Online Reporter