Chronicle Editor
Lenox Lizwi Mhlanga
THIS is one of those rare occasions when we celebrate and grieve at the same time. Bulawayo celebrates 125 years as a city this month and we lost an icon in the liberation struggle of this country and South Africa, Dumiso Dabengwa.
A lot has been and will be said and written about DD, as he was affectionately known. Mine is both personal and very public at the same time.
My early memories were that of my late father Jonathan Temba Mhlanga’s (otherwise known as J. Temba) quiet, unassuming friend who liked to sip his favourite tipple that struggle people called iVoso (Vodka and Soda) in the early 1980s.
For those who were trained in the then Soviet Union, that was the drink of choice. They said it would help them get through the harsh winters of those frigid climes. Whether you like it or not, you came back an unrepentant alcoholic out of necessity.
Being among the first to be trained by the ‘Ruskies’, Dabengwa earned the nickname, the Black Russian. More so because of the efficiency with which he executed his mandate and also to strike fear into the Rhodesian white populace who hated (and feared) anything labelled as communist.
If there was one reason why the white Smith regime did not want ZAPU anywhere near the reins of power, it was communism personified by the likes of Joshua Nkomo, Dumiso Dabengwa, Nikita Mangena and many others. These were the arch terrorists that their grandmothers warned them about.
But for me, it was difficult to make that tag stick when I first saw the man sitting at the back of our shop in Gwabalanda in 1979 during the ceasefire. He was far from the ogre painted by relentless Rhodesian propaganda. Even the few pictures of him published in that pre-independence rag, The Africa Times, failed to show him as the monster that he was portrayed to be.
They would be sitting there cracking jokes while waiting for a steaming pot of inhloko lezangaphakathi to be served eMthala club. The others were loud, boisterous as any former guerrilla would be. But Dumiso and notably Lookout Masuku would be quiet ones, as if plotting something.
The whole high command of the Zimbabwe People Revolutionary Army (ZIPRA) would be casually discussing anything that came to their minds. Their excitement and indeed caution was palpable. Anything could have gone wrong. But the environment among the ordinary people showed that our super heroes were human after all.
Dabengwa and Masuku were not regular visitors, having a heavy responsibility co-ordinating the ceasefire of the troops under their command right across the country including thousands of refugees.
But when they found the chance, they would sit among their peers, briefing them about the disarmament process. There would be the boisterous Sidney Malunga, Dr Sikhanyiso Ndlovu and Dr Callistus Ndlovu all late and other struggle stalwarts such as Tshinga Dube, Abraham Nkiwane (my granddad) and many more who would take this whole column to mention.
Granted, DD was a man of few words, very soft spoken, picking his diction carefully like a cotton farmer careful to reap the best lint. He was as mysterious as he was lovable, a full bloodied guerrilla who had the demeanour of someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was respected with equal measure by friends and foes alike.
If you want the full story about the intellect and capabilities of Dabengwa, ask his Mkhonto WeSizwe colleagues. They nearly worshipped the ground he walked on. And if someone said he was also one of the founding fathers of South Africa, they would be the first to endorse that accolade.
Joe Modise, the late first army commander of post-independence South Africa, who was his colleague during the war, would also occasionally come ko J. Temba bezokosa inyama. The Sunday Mthala club was abuzz, a revolutionary’s who’s who meeting place of all and sundry, and those wanting to rub shoulders with struggle icons.
Some will never believe that Jacob Zuma, Thabo Mbeki, laboModise, Chris Hani and many others abeMkhonto would also come visiting. That is before they were unceremoniously detained at Khami prison. They wanted to get away from the drudgery of the ANC half-way house in Richmond. The house was later bombed by apartheid South African commandos, as well as the one in Avondale, Harare where Joe Ngqabi was gruesomely assassinated.
Dabengwa’s full intellect and commitment to the development of Bulawayo and Matabeleland in particular, was revealed to me when I was presenter of the ZTV current affairs programme, This Week. The programme was produced by my brother Tula Dlamini in the early 90s.
We discussed the Matabeleland Zambezi Water Project and his perennial labour of love with the likes of the late Arnold Payne, Charles Mpofu and Mike Parira Mpofu.
His contributions were calculated and always to the point. While the rest of the panel were losing their heads with emotion, he would keep his cool until his turn came to speak. Tula relished the confrontation, but we rarely got it when it came to Dabengwa. While the others would surely ignite a raging fire on set, especially the controversial Mpofu ‘twins,’ DD was sure to calmly douse it.
For me his gaze was as piercing as if he was reading your mind. Quite disarming if you ask any television interviewer worth their salt. But the impact of what he said would linger for days. It would leave us arguing among ourselves for weeks. We would wonder why a man of such calibre was being side-lined.
But it’s my memory of his humility that will leave a lasting impression. He was one to stop in the streets of Bulawayo to greet me by my first name in that cool, calm demeanour of his. Then he would ask after my father’s health. He would then dutifully tell me to pass his regards. And it wasn’t that surprising that at my father’s funeral in 2016, he graced us with his appearance.
For me that was special and showed the strong bond that the two men had. So it was an emotional experience for me to hear about his illness and recent sad passing. And today I will return the favour. Hamba kahle Gatsheni, qhawe lamaqhawe. Sizokukhumbula.
Online Reporter