peter
Ezekiel Hleza
WERE it not for its explosive potential nearing its breaking point anywhere between Gungwe and Bulawayo, this day in 1977 could have passed for any other normal day, though relatively so in a country under the dark shadow of the liberation war.
Early in the month, the northern part of Gungwe Village in Gwanda District, Matabeleland South province, had witnessed a shootout in the evening which resulted in three deaths and an injury to one of the Zipra guerrillas involved who later got treatment at Gungwe Clinic, just behind the Gungwe Business Centre.
Although the patrols by the Rhodesian security forces had gone down to sporadic visits to the area by soldiers in army trucks, the dusk-to-dawn curfew remained along with the mandatory reporting of the presence of guerrillas within 24 hours, which was part of a cocktail of security measures in the state of emergency regulations.
It was just after 6am, the end of the curfew period when five Zipra guerrillas entered Daniel Fahlelwana Moyo’s business premises at Gungwe Business Centre. He thought he had not heard their request correctly when after an interval of about 15 seconds of silence between him and the armed men, the chilling request came again numbing him temporarily until one of the guerrillas came to his aid when he was about to lose his balance.
He thanked him and regained his strength and his faculties. Although they were in a hurry, they allowed their request to soak in his mind. When it had done so, he still could not fathom how on earth, on this day in 1977, he could carry five armed guerrillas towards the Shashe River, the border with Botswana, about 40 kilometres away, let alone to Bulawayo, the second largest city in Rhodesia, after Salisbury the capital.
They were not asking for a small plane to fly to Bulawayo, which he did not have and could not give them, but it was his blue, pretty new Mazda B1600 pick-up van they were looking at which they wanted.
“Mdala, Bulawayo is not like walking to Lindani’s shop or Makwaiba’s shop or even Kokobele’s shop, your neighbours here at Gungwe, it is more than 200 kilometres away. You know the curfew and we can’t be on the road from sunrise to sunset.”
One of the guerrillas who appeared to command overall authority over the group revealed impatience at the 60 seconds the discussion had taken.
“Ngiyezwa bantwabami,” Fahlelwana responded in a somewhat uneasy voice. He resolved to be on the steering wheel of his recently acquired pick-up van on the uncertain road to Bulawayo.
The whole thing appeared to be as unthinkable as it was unspeakable, daring the heavens by throwing all caution to the wind.
As the five men got onto the van with the leader of the group occupying the front passenger seat with Fahlelwana on the steering wheel, they looked ordinary like any other local Gungwe resident except that they all wore long jackets which made the bulge from the hidden AK-47 rifles, magazine pouches, and hand grenades look rather suspicious to an observant onlooker.
However, very few would have dared to cast a second look. No sooner had Daniel Fahlelwana Moyo and the visitors sped off and news filtered through the small Gungwe business community and the nearby Gungwe Primary School than a meeting of the selected few started to deliberate on how to handle the hot potato.
The leader of the group wasted no time in addressing his colleagues.
“Fahlelwana is one of us and we have been through a lot of things together. It is very difficult to imagine that the six in the van will reach Mawaza, Ntalale, or Ntepe without coming face-to-face with either the police or the army on patrol, let alone, Gwanda. Bulawayo is unthinkable.
For 30 minutes since they left, we have all been under a spell, that at any time we will hear the sound of gunfire or an explosion as we have learned to be used to these days. The law also requires that we report this incident at Guyu Police Station without delay.”
He stopped and allowed others to contribute. It was the teacher who followed.
“We have always taken the position that we report when it is most convenient for our children and for ourselves without breaking the law. We should apply the same principle.
We went to Geneva with only a bit and let God do the rest and we came back empty-handed with (Ian) Smith having made a fool of us and it only took Manama to teach us that before we let God do the rest, we must do the best ourselves. If we go to Guyu and report right away, the chances are that Fahlelwana and the boys will not have even reached Gwanda, let alone Bulawayo and they will stand no ghost of a chance even in heaven against the Rhodesian security forces.
None of us here needs to be told how the Rhodesian police, army, and air force will respond in such a scenario. Our report should be made after eight hours, by 3 o’clock or thereafter so that the person will also be able to come back before the curfew hours.”
He ended his contribution before the small started singing the hymn, “Haufe le morena”, (Nearer God to thee), before the meeting ended with a prayer.
Meanwhile, even before reaching Malitou, just a few kilometres from Gungwe, Fahlelwana was relieved of his seat behind the wheels when the guerrilla leader felt he could not measure up to the demands of a military operation.
He felt that he was driving at the speed of a tortoise at best and at worst, at the speed of a chameleon when what was needed was the speed of a bullet. It was the leader now who had taken over the steering wheel and in no time, he was crossing the Tuli River crossing point towards the Sengezane-Gwanda-Guyu-Chelesa-Manama T-junction.
Normally, it would take Fahlelwana about an hour to travel from his shop in Gungwe to his home in Pikinini at the boundary fence between Gwanda and Kezi. He would pass through Makhurane line where he would leave the Gungwe-Mbizo-Manama turn-off and turn westwards towards Malipuluhulu and pass through Small One near Makokwe Primary School to his village at Pikinini.
However, it had taken them slightly less than an hour to reach Lubolawudo in Garanyemba, a distance of about 80 kilometres, only 15 kilometres shy of Gwanda town.
It was the journey between Gwanda and Bulawayo where he had completely resigned himself to his fate which he concluded was inexorably intertwined with that of the five guerrillas and sealed between a violent death in a car crash or a hail of bullets from the Rhodesian forces.
There was the Balla-Balla (Mbalabala) training depot for the Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR) the mainstay of the Rhodesian Army which was just by the main highway between Gwanda and Bulawayo.
What he noticed was that as soon as the vehicle entered the Beitbridge-Gwanda-Bulawayo highway, it took on the uniform speed of the traffic flowing towards Gwanda and Bulawayo, neither overtaking nor being overtaken, remaining indistinguishable from the rest of the traffic.
At exactly 11.45am, Daniel Fahlelwana Moyo and the five guerrillas entered the City of Bulawayo.
He could not hold back the tears that left his vision blurred as he looked at the buildings on each side of the tarred, wide two-way traffic roads and the driver who negotiated the traffic. The calmness, coolness, and disarming mental sobriety that defied the odds of daring the heavens by throwing all caution to the wind, and treading where angels fear.
He wondered whether the phantasmagorical nightmare that he had endured from Gungwe had now come to an end by reaching Bulawayo or it would take another twist as cruel fate played weird games with his life to the brink of his destiny.
He was in that unsteady state of mind when the vehicle stopped at Magwegwe Filling Station and queued like other vehicles. When their turn came, the driver got out of the vehicle and asked the fuel attendant to fill the tank.
When the fuel attendant demanded payment first he was handed two silver red AK-47 live bullets and a copy of the Zimbabwe People’s Voice to give to the owner of the garage.
The vehicle was filled with fuel to the brim quickly and the other four guerrillas got out of the vehicle and joined their leader who then ordered Fahlelwana to take the driver’s seat, giving him two AK-47 live bullets and a copy of the Zimbabwe People’s Voice newspaper and told him to go and report at Magwegwe Police Station before going back to Gungwe after which the five men melted into the Magwegwe township community.
It was at roughly 3.25pm when the white Member-in-Charge at Guyu BSAP Police Station welcomed into his office the man dispatched by the Gungwe business community to report what had befallen Daniel Fahlelwana Moyo at the hands of the guerrillas.
The Member-in-Charge looked at the man, stood up, and went to a very big map of Rhodesia on the wall of his big office and searched for Gungwe and Bulawayo and Magwegwe Police Station, sat down and shook his head before he responded to his visitor’s message.
“We received a report about Fahlelwana from Magwegwe Police Station about two-and-a-half hours ago. Fahlelwana is safe and is on his way back.”
He looked at the man again who heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his face from the cycling he had done from Gungwe to Guyu.
Online Reporter