Online Reporter
Chronicles from the 2nd Chimurenga
Last week, CDE TOBIAS KANYONGO (Bomber Chimukwende) recounted some of the battles he fought in, including the Battle of Chitura in Rusape, where his unit annihilated 15 enemy soldiers. He concludes his account by revealing to Zimpapers Politics Hub, Foreign Affairs and Opinions Editor KUDA BWITITI how he lost his hand during the liberation struggle.
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Q: You mentioned fighting in many battles. Can you tell us about the one that cost you part of your arm?
A: That was an unfortunate battle, and I remember it vividly. It happened on November 11, 1979, around 7am, when Rhodesian Security Forces surrounded us. There were about 78 of them.
Q: How many fighters were on your side?
A: Only 14.
Q: Just 14? Where exactly did this battle take place?
A: I lost my hand in Madhibhi village, in the Chiduku area of Rusape.
Q: Can you describe what happened?
A: At the time, I was the section commander. While at our base, around 7am, we were encircled by enemy soldiers. Their mission was to capture us alive.
Q: You said they outnumbered you. What was their real objective?
A: They wanted to capture, torture and make an example of us. By that stage, both ZANLA and ZIPRA had made major advances in the war. The Rhodesians wanted to create the illusion that they weren’t losing. Capturing us would have been a major propaganda victory. They also knew about my unit’s operations in Rusape, especially after we defeated their forces at Chitura.
Q: How did they manage to locate and attack you in such large numbers?
A: It was because of sellouts. Even among liberators, there were traitors who collaborated with the enemy.
Q: Some sellouts, like Morrison Nyathi at Nyadzonya, were later exposed. Did you ever find out who betrayed you?
A: Unfortunately, no. What made this battle especially tragic was that it happened just as the war was ending. The day before the attack, Rhodesian helicopters were flying overhead, announcing through loudspeakers that the war was over. The loss of life could have been avoided.
Q: Of the 14 in your unit, how many died and how many were injured?
A: Three were killed and two of us were wounded.
Q: How did you survive?
A: Once we were surrounded, I realised the situation was dire. I shouted to my comrades to open an escape route while firing back. As we fought our way out, a Rhodesian soldier aimed at me with a lance bomb.
Q: What is a lance bomb?
A: It was ammunition loaded into a gun barrel to cause an explosion. Unaware of the soldier aiming, I was focused on engaging enemy troops in front of me — mostly black soldiers. Suddenly, the lance bomb struck my elbow, instantly blowing off my hand.
Q: So, you narrowly escaped death?
A: When I replay it in my mind, I still see that Rhodesian soldier’s rifle steady, the barrel levelled straight at my chest. The lance bomb was meant to tear through my heart. But fate tilted the barrel just slightly. Instead of killing me instantly, it took my hand at the elbow.
Sometimes I wonder if it was luck, divine intervention or simply the wind shifting as he pulled the trigger? All I know is when I saw the blood and what remained of my arm, I understood two things: I should be dead, and yet, I was still standing. That’s how war is.
Q: How do you believe you survived?
A: I credit God. If the Almighty hadn’t allowed it, I wouldn’t be here. I have replayed that moment countless times — the explosion, the searing pain, the sudden darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. Yet here I sit before you. Let me just say, when death came calling that day, the Almighty said, “Not yet.”
Q: Why didn’t the soldier finish you off?
A: Chaos broke out, and he likely assumed the lance bomb had killed me. I lay still, stunned, but after a while, I regained consciousness, and our medic evacuated me for treatment.
Q: What happened to your hand afterwards?
A: It remained injured for about a week, rotting in the bush. The treatment I received was only basic first aid.
Q: How did you endure the pain for so long?
A: The pain was beyond anything I had known. Imagine your flesh rotting while still attached to your body. Every movement sent agony through my nerves. Some of my comrades whispered that I wouldn’t make it; that the bleeding or infection would claim me.
But in war you have to be strong and tell yourself that pain is not an enemy but a companion.
You have to stay strong and learn to breathe through it; to let it sharpen your will rather than break it. I told myself, if I die, let it be fighting, not surrendering to the pain.
This was more than survival, but it was a test of my strength of character; more so, as I was a commander. It was a test of whether I truly had the courage I had preached to my fighters. And by God’s grace, I endured.
Q: How was your hand finally treated?
A: One of our seniors in the bush decided amputation was necessary. I agreed — the pain was unbearable. The next morning, he warned me it would be excruciating. Without anaesthesia, he gave me marijuana to numb the pain before cutting it off. Afterwards, I felt some relief, but proper treatment only came after the war in 1980.
Q: Where did you regroup after the war?
A: At Dzapasi in Buhera.
Q: What happened next?
A: We moved to the Ruwa Rehabilitation Centre, where I received full medical care. Having left school after Standard Six, I continued my education at Danhiko, completing my O-Levels. Later, I joined the Central Intelligence Organisation, where I worked for about 18 years, retiring in 2008. After retiring, I settled on my farm.
