ANGLICAN-INFORMATION
‘A voice for the voiceless'

ANGLICAN-INFORMATION receives many communications by e-mail but also by letter and verbally from our correspondents and friends in Africa. We cannot publish all of them but below is an account by a well-known Bulawayo personality in Zimbabwe who writes for an online journal critical of the Mugabe regime. Here below is an account of what it is like to be at the receiving end of arbitrary arrest.

ANGLICAN-INFORMATION observes that it is not surprising that MDC opposition leader Morgan Tsangerai is being cautious about returning to Zimbabwe, the Mugabe regime would gladly arrest or even kill him; perhaps in a prison like the one described below.

Our journalist correspondent was recently arrested from home with the support of AK47 armed soldiers,
thrown into jail for 4 nights and then released on bail on spurious charges. We have changed the names of those quoted in this article to protect them. We greatly admire how it is possible to remain cheerful and humorous in such circumstances – but that’s how most people in Zimbabwe survive in these terrible days.
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IN JAIL AND IN THE COMPANY OF ‘PAVEMENT BLOCKERS’

Such fun we had in our tiny cell,...... 20 "pavement blockers" , shop lifters,
ladies of the night .... and one small wannabee journalist!

As I was pushed into the pitch dark cell at 10 p.m. at night.... I heard the
hiss "makiwa" !!

I slid silently down into a diminutive space on the concrete floor next to the
foul smelling toilet, and tried desperately to get my eyes used to the terrifying
darkness..... then a soft hand reached over and shook my knee "Welcome Makiwa" what are you here for?

When I mentioned my "Crime" there was an instant excited hullabaloo and space
was made for me further away from the stench of the toilet....

Little did I know that the din was keeping a fellow journalist
awake in the cell next door.

My Cell Mates were delightful, if excitable, some of them had spent several
nights on the cold concrete floor and were dressed accordingly. There were 21 of us in a cell
Measuring 5 meters by 3 meters and we had 4 blankets between us!

April nights in Zimbabwe can be extremely chilly to say the least. When the
Dawn eventually broke, I noticed that most of the ladies were wearing their clothes
turned inside out - a simple explanation if you are a "pavement blocker?"

Once your fine has been paid in the morning, you turn your clothes the right
way round, and go straight back to work as clean as a whistle .

We were allowed just two articles of clothing, no bra, no knickers, no shoes and
no socks ! What was more alarming was that were were not allowed toilet paper or water
either!

Just a top article and a bottom article. My friend Johnny had brought me a warm jacket
and a track suit bottom, but my feet froze ....... the ladies were much cleverer than I, a
warm top and a voluminous wrap around skirt that can serve as a blanket is much more sensible
and a tip I will remember!

A "pavement blocker", I learned amidst much mirth, is a forex dealer (foreign money exchange dealers providing one of the racketeering ways in which corrupt government officials make their money by buying at the artificial ‘official’ rate and selling at the vastly inflated black market rate) ..... but one cannot be convicted as a forex dealer as the Reserve Bank of the country often
buys forex from these very same ladies, and of course then it is not a crime!!

It was a long, long freezing night where only ten of us could lie down and the
other eleven would sit, however we all swopped at most civilized intervals. It reminded me
of that kiddies song I used to sing to my babes.....

‘There were ten in a bed
And the little one said
"Roll over, roll over"
So they all rolled over
And one fell out’

However we kept each other warm, except that Mama on my left had pneumonia
and Mary on my right had what sounded suspiciously like Tuberculosis!

Morning was a joyous affair, the guards chased us out most rudely at 6am to
count us and then chased us in again until 8 when food arrived. Now the only food one
gets in a Zimbabwe prison is what the relatives bring, and so if you have no one you get
no food, it is as simple as that! (Readers will recall that the same is true in Malawi where until recently an innocent man has been held in prison for well over a year on no actual charge, accused simply on the say so of suspended priest Denis Kayamba in Nkhota-kota who accused him poisoning the late Canon Rodney Hunter, with no evidence whatsoever – it is Denis Kayamba who should be in prison for perverting the course of justice – see information from 2007 on our website)

However, I had already decided not to drink or eat as this would necessitate the
use of the loo which was open to all to view and also I had nothing on my feet and the
area around the loo was awash.

At eight they let us out again into a small sunny pen along with the inmates
from the next door cells, and I met fellow Journo ....... from (a UK newspaper) as well
as an axe murderer from the cell at the end!

Through the wire I saw the sweetest sight, Johnny at the gate to the Central
Bulawayo Police Station my friend Johnny surrounded by a throng of folk, craning his neck to see if
his wife had survived the night, waving a plastic bag of food excitedly.

Once we got some food, no one went without,... the Haves shared with the Have Nots ....

The UK journalist was most popular as his goody bag contained the items he had
bought at the Johannesburg duty free shop and contained delicacies which his fellow
inmates certainly did not normally eat.

We were allowed to visit a tap near the over flowing dust bins in the courtyard
for ablutions, after breakfast ..... and then we were instructed to throw a bucket
of water at our lavatories and to hang our four blankets in the sun for ten minutes (lice
apparently do not like the sun.)

Pushed rudely back into the cells; if I had thought the night long, I found out
the days were just as long.... Although I had company the girls soon tired of
speaking in English and I am ashamed to say my Shona and Ndebele is pretty sketchy. But as
the day wore on and people came and went I learnt a lot about prison life ... For example, the
longer one's incarceration, the further one is allowed away from the stinky toilet!

By noon I was sitting on top of the concrete bed the very furthest corner of
the cell. Most of my new friends had been remanded and released
except for the two "ladies of the night" who were by now standing on the toilet looking
out of the tiny barred aperture hoping to pick up some custom!

By lunchtime my dear friends had already arranged a feeding roster and Johnny was
bringing in food and delicious cups of hot steaming tea. And so it
continued for the next four days .... my favorite meals were the fish cakes that
Johnny cooked personally.

5 Days and 4 nights melted into long sessions of interrogation (with no lawyer
allowed to be present), where the men from the CIO (Central Intelligence Organization) and
the scary men from Presidents Office joined forces with the much nicer local Law and
Order detectives, to ascertain that I was not after all, really ....X.... from Sky
News.... !!

The second, third and fourth nights Johnny successfully negotiated a “Private
En Suite Cell” at Sauerstown Police Station for me where I was kept in solitary confinement
but only because there were no other women in the cells ..... The poor male felons on
the other side of my cell wall would bang messages on the wall to comfort me, my fists
were pretty sore after a couple of days.

Such bliss, the cell was the same size but much cleaner although the blankets
were stiff with dirt, and there was a gap of about four inches broken off the bottom of
the door .....

Numerous ants came in to visit me, the droves of mosquitoes were convinced that
my blood was the best thing they had tasted this year but I could lie on the
floor and look out into the court yard for entertainment.

Johnny attempted to bring me books, loo paper and water but all were
refused.....

I did not dare go to sleep sleep in case a snake or a rat or worse came in to
eat me while my eyes were closed. Solitary confinement is actually pretty scary and when
one of the male guards called me "Sweetie" I nearly had a heart attack ....

Johnny did manage to negotiate my very own blanket for the last two nights!

Poor Johnny, however, was not having such a delightfully enforced rest, he moved
mountains literally to keep everyone else safe and secure. Somehow, as only Johnny can do, he managed to safeguard
the lives of several vulnerable people and got them into safety and away from the claws of this strange, manic,
demented society in which we are forced to live at this time in Zimbabwe.

How can I ever forget the love, warmth, prayers and support the whole world has
shown me and my family over the past horrid 4 weeks.

Watch out for the unabridged version of this missal after we have gone to trial
..... and hopefully these spurious charges have been dropped.

God Bless you all and thank you so much for caring for the brave and selfless
folk who are trying so hard to save our country.
.................END...............

ANGLICAN-INFORMATION
‘A voice for the voiceless’
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