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Valentine's Day prison diary from Bulawayo
February 20, 2003

WOZA statement

On Friday 14 February I joined a gathering of women in Bulawayo to make a peaceful statement to the effect that we are tired of violence and would like to see more love between Zimbabweans. For virtually any public activity in Zimbabwe one has to notify the police though they interpret that to mean they have to give permission. For this gathering they had given "permission" albeit reluctantly; this was then withdrawn on the morning of the gathering.

There was no time for the organisers to notify people so women gathered anyway.

Armed with roses, bougainvillea and little Valentine notes, the women, about 70 of us, decided to walk together quietly along the city pavements wishing people peace and love and handing out the flowers. Almost from the first we were trailed by a blue Defender Land Rover whose occupants were busy on their short wave radios. We continued anyway. People along the street appeared to enjoy the message and especially receiving free flowers. Suddenly we were confronted by two vehicles of fully kitted out riot police who meant business.

While many of the women faded away others (mostly white) were more conspicuous and therefore readily identified as marchers and moved into police vehicles. Because of our quiet demeanor we were not manhandled to any degree though there is no question that if we had resisted they would not have hesitated to have been more forceful. A priest who had been filming the walk was roughly handled, his camera seized and himself roughed up. At one point, one policeman actually had his hands around the priest's neck strangling him. The crowd began to shout and show its displeasure, the priest was released and thrown roughly into the police vehicle. The riot squad advanced and the crowd were cowed into silence.

We were driven to Bulawayo Central police station and herded out. After some time one of the men (CIO we assume because he was not in uniform) came round with his scrappy notebook to take our details. We were polite and cooperative and eventually the man was smiling and joking with us. Nevertheless the atmosphere around us was charged with adrenaline and several riot police stood around swinging their intimidating rubber truncheons. Lawyers arrived but were manhandled out of the police station - illegally. We hung around a long time not quite knowing what would happen next. However, those with cell phones were busy phoning everyone and obviously there was quite a buzz outside as family, friends, supporters and lawyers bustled about.

"We" consisted of 15 women (2 black, including one of the organisers and 13 white) and 2 men (the priest and a young man both white). Of the women, 2 were in their 30s, 2 in their 40s and the rest in their 50s and 60s. Hardly a tough looking bunch.

We were moved about the police station while they tried to figure out what to do next with this bunch of unlikely looking "violent demonstrators". That was the official line the whole time we were in their custody - "why were we involved in this violent demonstration?".

They stuck to this in spite of every shred of evidence (banners and flyers) saying anything but that! The other worrying aspect was the number of young men in civilian clothes who appeared to have considerable authority. I wanted to ask them for their police identification but the group were reluctant feeling that it would be provocative. (Such have ordinary rights been eroded that standard practice in democratic countries is here considered provocative).

So we never really knew who was who and why we should be obeying him. We were then moved upstairs where we were allowed to meet with our lawyers who advised us what to do and say should they try and force us into making and signing statements. Basically, we should refuse to make a statement without a lawyer, if forced or threatened in anyway to sign in protest and to deny all charges.

Then we were moved into another really shabby room where we had to hand in all our valuables, including bras and shoes. When this youngster told us to remove our bras and shoes I pointed out that I wasn't going to do that in a room full of men, so he rudely gesticulated to a small filthy room. This was unnerving. During this process, an MDC MP appeared with some colleagues and we nearly fell into his arms, such a welcome sight. He appeared to ignore the rude young men and just asked us if we were all okay and shook our hands. One of the women in our group is the wife of the MDC's vice president - apparently the police had no idea who she was until the next morning when her husband visited with breakfast for her.

Then, barefoot and braless, we were sent into" the cages" - the fenced in enclosure outside the holding cells. Now holding cells are for those arrested and therefore not yet convicted. You'd never think so. We hung about in the open for some time and could see family and friends beginning to arrive with food for us. Meanwhile prison "food" had been laid out in front of the cells - I saw 5 plates with a few sugar beans on each - was this to feed all inmates?

The cells were then opened and the inmates allowed out. The experienced ones leapt upon the plates of beans and scoffed them up. We were allowed to receive food from our family and my heart burst with the generosity of it all - so many people had food for us that we were able to share with the rest of our inmates. They thought it was Christmas. We discovered that some had not eaten for 4 days while held in cells. I repeat, these are holding cells whereby arrested people are held until they can be brought before court within 48 hours.

In the bag of goodies provided by my husband was a red rose - my most romantic Valentine yet. I clutched that poor rose all night but by morning it was mashed in the squash.

Our families watched us mingle with the petty thieves, money changers and prostitutes sharing food, water and cigarettes - then we handed back the containers. Officially we were not allowed anything in the cells but we managed great bottles of water and cool drink, toilet paper and even toothpaste.

Then the dreaded moment came when we had to go into the cells and have the door shut for the night. It was about 6pm. The conditions were abysmal. The cell was about 3 x 5 m with a small section walled off for the squat toilet which smelled of urine. There were filthy, smelly blankets on the floor. There were 15 of us and 3 other women all arrested for illegal currency dealing. This meant 18 of us in less than 15 sq metres. While there was light through the grill above the metal door the only air came through a square in the door - fortunately the metal grill over that had broken off so some air could flow in.

During the night 3 other women were thrown into the cells with us - apparently drunk they were loud and vulgar. 21 squeezed into less than 15 sq metres. We didn't sleep much. We took it in turns to lie down and snooze while another sat or stood. Using the toilet was a bit of a problem for most of the white women so we sang loudly anytime someone wanted to go. Black women didn’t seem to have these inhibitions. During the night, we heard shouting and thwacks and one or two peered out to see a prone man being hit in the middle of the yard. Later a woman was wailing around the yard but fortunately not brought into our cell.

We sang a lot and even danced a bit. The two black women with us are natural leaders, stoic and unshockable - they were wonderful and together we retained our spirits in spite of the distressingly uncomfortable conditions. On two occasions during the night we were ordered out of the cell, counted and sent back in. I don't think they did that to the men.

Finally morning came. At about 6am we were allowed out. Stumbling out into the morning light we saw across the yard a goodly group of family and other supporters laden with breakfast. I felt decidedly weepy. The level of support was just incredible and very tangible. The MDC Vice-President arrived carrying an elegant picnic basket containing a flask of tea, cups and masses of food as did others. Again we shared our good fortune with the men in the adjoining cells. It was all rather emotional.

Our two leaders then lost no time in organising the tidy up of the cell - we shook out blankets, swept the floor and even got buckets of water to flush out the stinking toilet. The police appeared not to notice the pile of rubbish emerging from our cell. The atmosphere in the yard was less charged and we were dealt with by uniformed police although there was the inevitable group of heavies swinging their rubber truncheons.

This was Saturday morning and the fear was that we would be held the whole weekend and taken to court on Monday - the thought of another 2 nights was unbearable. We heard that those in Harare doing a similar gathering had been arrested too but released on Friday afternoon so our hopes were raised. Nevertheless, once we had eaten and returned the containers to the supporters, we were sent back into our cells and the door shut. At least now the place felt and smelt a whole lot better. We had a crossword puzzle, deodorants, toothpaste, food and plenty of water to drink.

After about an hour, 8 of us were called out. Names read out, we padded out barefoot and lined up. We figured that now they would take statements and we would know whether we were to be charged and kept in. Endless stairs, endless grubby offices and endless men in civilian clothes making comments about our "violent demonstration" - we were very restrained. Three young lawyers were present with us which was very reassuring. We heard afterwards that they had been at the police station until 9pm the night before negotiating on our behalf. Our spirits began to pick up; at least we were in the fresh air. One woman had fingerprints taken. Others of us found a real toilet and indulged ourselves. Then it became apparent that we were to be released and charges, if they decided to press charges, would be done by way of summons. Usually this means they probably won't because they have no real case. So much relief all round although we weren't out yet and so restrained ourselves from expressing anything too jolly.

We trooped downstairs to collect our valuables and found everything intact - cash, watches, cell phones, clothes everything in order. Then we hung about outside with the lawyers wondering what next. I saw that we had made the headlines of the independent daily press! Then we were called upstairs to the Law and Order Section - I was afraid. I figured this would be the threats, the warnings the intimidation. The lawyers stayed with us. In the end there was some muttered comments and they handed back the "evidence" - the banners stating "Yes to love, No to violence", the drum. The priest's video was NOT given back - they wanted to watch the video first.

We went downstairs again where a young man again in civilian clothes said we could only go when he said we could. We just smiled and said "No problem" if he liked our smiling faces we'd be happy to stay with him. We just didn't react. By 10.30am we were outside the police station to be met by a group of women bearing more red roses. Much joy and jollification, in fact almost another gathering as the traffic got snarled up and congested by the welcoming party. A couple of police were getting edgy so I left promptly with a friend. One thing she told me on the way home was that the red roses presented to us had been donated by the flower sellers across the road for the women locked up in "central" - I think that said everything about our success. People on the street saw, knew and supported us in the ways that they could.

Right now I am relieved that it is over and proud that I made the stand. My husband says I have now earned my stripes. I am more convinced than ever of the need for more of us to take these extra steps. I think our presence was, in the end, just an embarrassment for an overzealous police force - as it should be.

Thank you for your concern, your support and love. I am fine.

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