I WILL live with the trauma of witnessing my sister being raped by seven Rho- desian soldiers of the African Regiment, a ruthless wing of the infamous Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR).
Aged 14, she was in Form One at
Gokomere Secondary School at the time.
It was around midday, one day in December 1978, when I heard my sister screaming not very far from our home.
She had gone into the nearby bush to forage for firewood.
I immediately abandoned my own chores and rushed to her rescue, suspect- ing that she had been bitten by a snake.
I got the shock of my life when I arrived at my aunt’s old abandoned hut, about a kilometre from our homestead in Made Village, Gokomere, Masvingo.
My sister was being gang-raped.
What pains me the most was that she was being violated by fellow Africans who were supposed to protect her.
One of the soldiers sarcastically asked me to join them rape my sister.
This pushed me to the brink and I struck him with a stone.
Of course, that was a suicidal act, aris- ing out of the helplessness that I felt in the pit of my stomach. For that futile act, I was thoroughly beaten by the soldiers and there was nothing I could do to de- fend myself — or my sister.
I fell to the ground where the heartless soldiers left me for dead.
I only gained consciousness several hours later when my mother poured a bucket of cold water over my limp body.
I reported the rape and my subsequent
beating to the freedom fighters during a pungwe the following day.
A week later, the soldiers returned to our village and helped themselves to sev- eral pots of ‘seven days’ — the traditional home-brewed beer.
This was the perfect opportunity to avenge my beating and the rape of my sister. I immediately found my way to the freedom fighters’ base on Chivandire Mountain. The comrades responded swiftly by laying an ambush. And thanks to the rains, the vegetation was at its densest, making the ambush a success.
Because they were, by now, drunk to
their skulls, the Rhodies staggered right
into the killing bag.
They were captured like stranded cat- fish — all without a drop of blood being shed.
I asked Cde Soperai, the leader of the comrades, for permission to exact re- venge on the soldier who had asked me to join them in raping my sister.
Permission was granted, and the rest is
now history.
Because I was now a marked man, I had no option but to join the freedom ‘Heartless Rhodesian soldiers raped my sister’ fighters. That was the only way I
could guarantee my safety.
I was with Cdes Soperai, Tangai, Muhondo, Zvabhendazvabhenda, James Bond, Mabhunu Muchapera and Ticha- tonga on Chivandire Mountain until the ceasefire, 12 months later. But until then, the Rhodies launched a vicious attack on the base, courtesy of some sellouts.
It was early on a Sunday morning when a spotter jet flew over our base. All of a sudden, the sky was filled with ugly killing machines.
As a civilian with no military training whatsoever, I instinctively rushed down the mountain and took refuge in a cave.
I knew the mountain like the back of my hand since I used to herd our cattle on it.
There was an exchange of heavy gunfire soon after two of the helicopters had disgorged several paratroopers.
The battle lasted for about three hours.
Cde Soperai, who was manning the anti-aircraft gun, managed to bring down one helicopter.
I left the cave around seven in the evening and managed to locate four freedom fighters who had survived the attack.
That night, we walked for about 15
kilometres to a gathering point.
We were informed by collaborators that more than 20 Rhodies had perished in the epic battle on Chivandire Mountain.
Unfortunately, four comrades lost their
lives.
The surviving comrades, including myself, relocated to Gutu where they operated from until the ceasefire.
My sister fell pregnant as a result of the rape. Although she kept the baby, she has never recovered from the trauma of her ordeal, 46 years later. Neither have I.
What pains me the most is that Rhodies were not punished for their barbaric acts while their victims, including my sister, who received no counselling, are still suffering psychologically.
