The story of Cde Francis Nyoni, alias Cde Tamuka Mabhunu

I WAS born Francis Nyoni, but my Chimurenga name was Cde Tamuka Mabhunu. But as long as I live I will continue to celebrate the victorious attack on a Rhodesian military convoy in Madziwa, Mashonaland Central Province, in November 1978.

I am proud for my involvement in an operation that saw us ambushing the Rhodesian infantry and blowing up their convoy. My fellow guerillas from the Madziwa B detachment, which was in charge of the Chaminuka sector, included Cdes Teddy Nyatsanga, Savage Magondo, William Bvunzawabaya, Mazorodze, Davi, Chikomba and Jose Zondai. Takawira detachment, Chaminuka sector, was in ZANLA’s Tete war province which was under the command of the late Cde Perrance Shiri, who in his postindependence years was the Airforce of Zimbabwe air marshal and later Minister of Agriculture.

By 1978, the Rhodesians had come to the realisation that they were on the losing side the of war. They resorted to travelling in convoys to avoid surprise attacks by the guerillas. By that time, we had many liberated zones and our fighting skills had escalated to the more devastating guerilla warfare. We were relentless and the Rhodesians were overstretched.

While hundreds, on a daily basis, crossed the borders to join the liberation struggle, the Rhodesians were conscripting high school boys into the army. Madziwa was among the areas in the semi-liberated zones.

One day, a senior war collaborator informed us that the Rhodies would be travelling to Bindura from Mount Darwin to buy food supplies. They were going to travel in a fortnight, thus giving us sufficient time to plan the ambush from our base at George Farm. Armed with intelligence that they would use the Shashi Pass, on the day in question, we left our base early in the morning. We walked in heavy rains for two hours to the pass. We were also aware that white farmers would be accompanied by a convoy of Rhodesian soldiers. Since I was an expert on the bazooka, it was agreed that I would target the lead vehicle — a landmine detector — with my heavy weapon. Accurate was critical because missing the target would alert the enemy and expose us to a ferocious counter attack.

Rhodesians resorted to travelling in convoys to avoid surprise attacks.

My main task was to hit the enemy, creating pandemonium, thus denying the Rhodies any chance to return fire. To our advantage there was plenty of cover since the rainy season had just started, making it easy for us to take our assault positions in the thick vegetation. We arrived at Shashi Mountain at around 3.00am to avoid detection and patiently waited for the enemy to literally walk into our trap, like sheep to the slaughterhouse. We took our positions and waited anxiously for the enemy to appear. Soon the landmine detector at the head of the Rhodesian convoy of eight trucks appeared in all its ugliness at around 7.00am, not the best of times since it would make it difficult for us to escape after the contact.

I took aim and let loose a salvo, blasting off the wheels of the mine detector. The attack took the Rhodies by surprise and there was pandemonium all round. Yakave nyama yokugocha, bayabwabaya . . . My fellow comrades started firing relentlessly into the thick of unsuspecting and now confused Rhodies who did not know what hit them!

According to later reports, the Native Commissioner died in that attack. In their dazed state, the Rhodies managed to call for reinforcements from their military bases in Mount Darwin and Bindura. Before long, the sky was filled with choppers. Paratroopers were dropped alongside the mountain while the Air Force showered the mountainside with bombs.

I was hit by bomb shrapnel in my left thigh. I bled profusely and never thought I would live to tell the tale. But I was determined to live, so I slowly crept towards a huge rock where I rested, waiting for my last breath. However, the gods must have been smiling on me that day as there was a sudden downpour which helped scatter the Rhodesian air force. Mvura iyi yakanaya yaiva nechimvura mahwe yakava Mwari wangu. Cde Bvunzawabaya and Cde Second Goal Mabhunu came to my rescue. The former tore his shirt into shreds which he used to bandage my wounds to stop the bleeding before the two comrades took me to the gathering point.

It took us four hours of travelling, sneaking through farms and thickets, to get to our base along the Ruya River. I stayed at the base for eight days, receiving medical treatment from our resident medical comrade. For three agonising weeks, we remained under cover to avoid being exposed by the massive manhunt launched in the aftermath of the ambush.

When it eventually appeared safe to do so, we crossed into Mozambique where I received proper medical care.

Compiled by Emergencey MwaleKamtande.