Online Reporter
Fidelis Munyoro
Chief Court Reporter
IN the heart of Harare’s Eastview Phase 4, a devastating event shattered a family’s world, unleashing a storm of love, betrayal, and fury woven through the silent battle of a man navigating life in a realm devoid of sound.
The story of Fanuel Masora, a deaf and mute man, is not merely a tale of a crime but a profound reflection on the fragile nature of communication and the devastating consequences when words fail and emotions overflow.
On the fateful night in January 2014, under the veil of darkness and within the confines of a modest home, a quiet storm of pain and misunderstanding erupted.
Fanuel Masora, whose silence is expressed through the graceful gestures of Zimbabwe Sign Language, found himself trapped in a cruel tempest of the heart.
His 71-year-old uncle, Magijo Masora, the man with whom he shared life, laughter, and even a bed, became the unwitting recipient of a violent outburst fuelled by jealousy and heartbreak.
The law speaks in measured tones, but the human heart often shouts in silence.
Fanuel was charged with the murder of his uncle, accused of striking him four brutal blows to the head with a wheel spanner—a heavy, unforgiving weapon that left wounds far deeper than those visible.
Yet, behind the cold facts and legal definitions lay a man burdened by isolation, exclusion, and a profound sense of betrayal.
Fanuel’s plea was powerful in its simplicity and profound in its truth.
Deaf and mute from birth, his world is one of visual cues and unspoken emotions.
His sole channel of expression, Zimbabwe Sign Language, is a vibrant language of hands and faces, yet one that remains largely unheard in the corridors of justice.
“He cannot read, write or comprehend written or printed English text in any meaningful way,” the court was told, highlighting a cruel barrier between the law and those it seeks to govern.
The accused argued that the law, not gazetted or communicated in sign language, had never truly reached him.
This was not merely a legal argument but a poignant plea for recognition and inclusion, a call to bridge the silence that isolates so many.
Yet, the court, led by Justice Emilia Muchawa—recently acknowledged this reality but could not let it excuse the gravity of the act.
“Most people, like him, only know the intricacies of the crime committed when they are arrested,” the judge observed, recognising the shared human experience of ignorance and learning too late.
What truly set this case apart was the expert testimony that opened a window into Fanuel’s world—a world where communication barriers breed loneliness and social isolation, where discriminatory words cut deeper than any blade.
Professor Lincoln Hlatywayo, an expert in inclusive education and psychology, painted a vivid picture of the deaf community’s struggles.
He spoke of how a deaf person, deprived of the spoken word, experiences anger and frustration with an intensity often misunderstood by others.
“The accused was grossly provoked by the discriminatory utterance of the deceased,” the court heard, words that struck at the core of Fanuel’s pain.
His uncle had declared, “the hearing and the deaf cannot be together,” a cruel sentence that shattered not just a relationship but the fragile hope of love and acceptance.
This was not mere provocation. It was a profound betrayal from someone so close, someone who shared his life and home.
Justice Muchawa captured the essence of this anguish, stating:
“Due to this the deceased, who uttered that ‘the hearing and the deaf cannot be together,’ became the recipient of all the accumulated anger and frustration of the deceased’s entire life.”
Did Fanuel intend to kill, or was he overwhelmed by a sudden and total loss of self-control?
The four successive blows with a 2.2kg wheel spanner to a sleeping man’s face spoke of anger unleashed with devastating force.
Yet, Fanuel’s own testimony revealed a man consumed by pain, striking without pause, lost to the storm within.
In a landmark recognition of the unique challenges faced by persons with disabilities, the court applied a special standard, asking whether a reasonable person with Fanuel’s disabilities would have acted similarly when provoked so harshly.
The judge’s words resonate deeply:
“Given… how people with such a speech and hearing impairment experience heightened anger levels… we find the conduct of the accused… to be in consonance with that of any other person in similar circumstances.”
This was a moment where law met compassion, where justice sought to understand the silent suffering behind the violence.
Fanuel was found not guilty of murder but guilty of culpable homicide, a recognition of his loss of self-control under unbearable provocation.
The sentence, too, reflected this delicate balance.
Rather than confining Fanuel behind bars, the court sought a path of rehabilitation and dignity.
A three-year sentence was imposed, but with two years suspended on condition he performs community service at the Deaf Zimbabwe Trust, an institution dedicated to empowering the deaf community.
