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Victor Maphosa recently in Lusaka, Zambia
Passengers cringe as a bus hired from Zimbabwe navigates the rugged terrain, up a ridge and down a gravel road and hair-pin curves, crawling slowly like a toddler in pain.
The passengers cringe and flinch with each deadly manoeuvre, again and again, and again and again. Again!
The driver summons his experience and expertly directs its wheels past huge potholes, and engaging in heavy gears. The groggy diesel engine responds in shocking resilience. It nudges on, possessed by the spirit of the journey.
The bad road leads a delegation from Zimbabwe to a vast swathe of farmland east of Lusaka, the capital of Zambia.
After burying field after field for about 20 km, the driver suddenly drops speed, indicated to turn right, into an uncharacteristic narrow lane, before stopping it by a metal gate, albeit the heavy rattling.
In the bus, a lone voice starts singing slowly and sorrowfully: first as shriek of a voice, then rises in pitch, tempo and crescendo as the revolutionary song, provokes memories of Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle. Tempers flare. Emotions run high. Hysteria hits one or two passengers.
“Yaingova toyi toyi, toyi panguva yehondo… aiwa taimhanya mhanya takabata sabhu tichishingirira Zimbabwe.
Vakomana vasikana, Zimbabwe… magorira mumakomo … isu taimhanya mhanya takabata sabhu tichishingirira Zimbabwe.’’
In a few seconds, the song had spread through the bus, everyone singing, others stood, others clapped hands, no one smiled.
Grief was written all over their faces.
Welcome to Freedom Camp, a former base for guerrilla fighters of the Zimbabwe’s Chimurenga war.
These were members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association visiting their colleagues, killed and buried in mass graves at Freedom Camp.
After about five minutes, the gate was opened and the driver drove for about 500 metres before turning left.
Singing continued in the bus, and now everyone was singing in low but powerful voices, as the bus slowly followed the thin lane heading into a thick forest.
Again, abruptly, the driver stopped. Silence, silence, silence. Deep silence!
For a moment, no one says a word.
This a freedom camp where more than 600 Zimbabweans were massacred by Rhodesian army during the liberation struggle.
Immediately, two private cars arrived and parked near the bus.
These vehicles had also brought to the camp, traditional leaders, who would assist in the cleansing ceremony at the shrine.
This is now the norm, that living liberation fighters pay a visit to fallen heroes and heroines in their places of rest, annually.
The traditional leaders led the ceremony through the night, till dawn. Every interval was accepted through clap, clap, clap. Ululation from women. Clap, clap, clap, ululation. Ululation. Clap, clap, clap, ululation.
Such is the people of Zimbabwe, respecting and adhering to their cultural values and norms, which brings a true identity, and one they are proud of.
As the sun rose imperceptibly on the second day, the proceedings ended. Sad smiles returned in most of the cadres exhausted faces.
Traditional leader, Chief Saunyama from Nyanga, in Manicaland who was part of the delegation, said such ceremonies to visit and speak to the departed heroes are crucial culturally.
“We believe that even those who died fighting for the liberation of Zimbabwe are important and they should be recognised through such visits to shrines where they are buried. As traditional leaders, we are here to assist in these ceremonies. As you might know, people from different backgrounds, cultures were buried here and as traditional leaders we are able to intercede between the living and the dead.
“So were here to traditionally support this noble visit to these shrines. We should always, as Zimbabweans visit these sleeping fighters and honour them for the massive work that they did to free us.
“We have to recognise their sacrifices. These comrades will remain happy if they see us the living honouring them in this way. Even the nation will remain blessed because these departed heroes will also be happy. So this gesture where we visit these shrines is very important and should always be done.”
The massacre occurred on October 19, 1978, in the morning.
On that particular day, it had just dawned, birds chipped from all corners of the camp, and everyone was busy doing this and that, no one expected any horrific incident to occur to them.
The camp was abuzz with normal activities, with everyone doing his or her chores, as assigned by the superiors.
Freedom Camp, was not a training camp or a military base but a transit place, where those who had just completed military training or on their way for training would briefly stop over, for two days or three, before they were deployed to several bases.
So, the camp had no weapons and because of that, it was also easy to be infiltrated by the enemy.
And yes, the enemy infiltrated and got all the information on what was going on at the camp, the enemy knew that people at the camp were unarmed, but because the enemy was brutal, they bombed and mercilessly butchered unarmed people.
After the bombardment, bodies of the killed Zimbabweans and Zambians lay strewn on the open space, the injured could be heard crying for help, hopeful.
They all died, for the love of Zimbabwe.
The dead were buried in mass graves and the injured were transported to various health institutions locally and abroad.
But not everyone died on that particular day.
Cde Cephas Ncube whose Chimurenga name was Costa Siloba was one of the combat engineers deployed at the camp.
“When we arrived at this camp, the first issue of concern we noted was that of security. We noted that the enemy could easily infiltrate the camp and raised the concern with the base commanders who were responsible for the administration of Freedom Camp. This place was more like a refugee camp, actually it was a transit camp and it also catered for those who would have been injured on the front in the then Rhodesia.
“So we did not know each other completely and it was easy for us to be infiltrated. So my thinking is that the enemy infiltrated us and spent days here learning our day to day activities and plans.
“So on the day of the attack, it was early in the morning and we saw a spotter plane, flying nearby and we started asking each other about the activities of that plane. While we were still talking, suddenly jet fighters and helicopters appeared from the east.
“They swiftly started throwing bombs and people ran to the open space from the bushes because that is where they were bombing. There was no place to hide.
“Meanwhile, while the bombardment was being executed, other Rhodesian soldiers were on the ground, shooting those who were running away from the bombs. It became difficult to escape death. And remember no one was armed, yet jet fires were coming from all directions. It was a moment of madness.”
Cde Ncube said in the confusion, people in the camp were mercilessly killed, helplessly butchered.
“There was screaming everywhere, there was fear, helplessness as live bullets were sprayed on unarmed people. We ran for cover, we did not have any guns to defend ourselves. This is because as I said, this camp was not a military training camp so we were not armed.
“I lost my relatives, a brother and a close friend who I had trained with in Angola. The situation was just bad. There was a lot of blood everywhere.
“Some human parts were retrieved from tree branches, hanging. Bodies lay, scattered all over and the enemy kept on firing. You could hear people screaming in pain. Fear filled the air as death visited each one of us.”
He added: “After I escaped death, I walked towards Lusaka and met several other comrades who had survived and we sat and started strategising. We decided to go back to the camp to assist others who were injured. We then met Cde Ambrose Mutinhiri who was Chief Of Staff by that time, driving his Land Rover vehicle and we told him of the bombing at Freedom Camp. We jumped into his car and headed back. Those who were injured needed our immediate assistance, so we headed back.
“The situation was just bad and scary. Hundreds of lifeless bodies were lying everywhere and we did not where to start.”
Cde Ncube said soon after they were buried using earth moving equipment, he was moved to another base where the enemy had again targeted.
“There, we fought the enemy hard. The enemy faced stiff resistance from trained comrades such that they failed to win. We were armed with modern ammunition and this made us a strong army until the enemy surrendered, signifying the end of war and independence.
“So from the day of the attack, I never came back here till today. When I arrived here yesterday, all the painful memories came back. I even failed to sleep. Knowing that my colleagues died for a free Zimbabwe. Knowing that I escaped death but they could not.
“War is very bad and it is not something that should ever happen again. To the comrades lying here, I salute you. You fought a good fight and continue resting in power. Now it is our duty, the survivors to ensure the fallen heroes are given a befitting recognition. Our camps like this one should be attended to and we are happy that Government is willing to do that, as other camps are now well kept.
“I want to say to those families with the comrades buried here, please be proud that you did not raise robbers and thieves, but heroes and heroines who died for the love of their country. We salute you, we salute the departed.”
He commended President Mnangagwa for his commitment in ensuring those who fought for independence are taken care of.
Everyone loaded their belongings back into the bus, and we drove off.
Somewhere from the back seat, someone played the late Simon Chimbetu’s hit track Ndarangarira Gamba.
We headed back to the motherland, Zimbabwe with a boosted morale.
Online Reporter