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The Saga Continueth
Shane Kidd, Chimanimani, Zimbabwe
June 25, 2004

Monday 14th June, 2004

Hi ho, hi ho
It's off to paint we go
Da, da, da
Dee dee, dee
Hi ho, hi ho

Apologies to Snow White and her seven compatriots of restrictive growth. Yes, off we march again down to the MDC office to yet again claim our constitutional rights to rent our property to any legal institution and to support the political party of our choice. We will have to wrest these rights from that evil trio ZANU (PF), the warvets, and apathy. We are followed by thousands of flag waving MDC supporters all loudly advocating their right to chose. Naaah, this is Zimbabwe I think not, this is a volunteer's exercise and volunteers are decidedly short on the ground; rather like snowballs in hell. Alas it's only the gruesome twosome Birgit and I.

At the office we meet 2 gentlemen of leisure, Gusha and his war vet mate. They set about telling us the property no longer belongs to us, it is now owned by the warvets and ZANU (PF). Birgit points out that it's still legally ours and in view of the fact that it's a commercial property in the middle the village and not a farm, ZANU hasn't figured out a legal way of stealing it yet. Hey, give them time, anything is possible in wonderland. This raises an appreciable chuckle from the gathering crowd of interested onlookers. It's a small village and we seek our entertainment where we can. Normally at one another's expense. Brigit attempts to debate the intricacies of politics with these heavy weight intellectuals. In response she gets grunts and "eeeh go back to Britain you white bitch." I recognise a lost cause when I see it and carry on painting over the warvet and ZANU (PF) slogans. Birgit's attempt to find out why they are so afraid of 2 people standing up for their political rights continues and the crowd who are laughing at the warvets isn't doing their dignity any good. The war vets are claiming that Harawa, the head of the local RDC, in a meeting with the local ZANU (PF) district committee says Birgit no longer owns the building and we must go with them to speak to him. I tell them to piss off.

An African in civilian clothes approaches the two war vets and speaks to them. He then asks us what we are doing. He introduces himself as Police Inspector Mapinda (not sure of spelling) from Mutare. We explain to him that its our property and we are painting out the warvet and ZANU (PF) slogans and repainting it as the MDC office because that is who we lease it too. He says it's fine for us to paint out the war vet and ZANU (PF) slogans but we must not paint MDC office on the wall. We ask him, why, is it illegal? He shrugs his shoulders and says "I can do nothing for you" and walks off to take up observer status. Birgit and I look at each other with an amazed look. After 4 years of endless harassment by the police and CIO, why on earth would he expect us to think that we would look to the police to uphold the law and protect our rights?

I use the step ladder to climb on to the veranda roof and start painting the wall above it. On cue a CIO truck arrives with Mrs. Knight's Crew of thugs and warvets, about nine in number. One of them grabs the ladder and starts taking it away so I jump down from the roof to reclaim the ladder and get next to Birgit. Chenjeria's son throws the ladder at me and Brighton comes in swinging and the battle commences.

It's at times like this that I get really upset living in an unequal society. I have 6 people attacking me and Birgit has 3 people attacking her. In a truly egalitarian society it would have been 50/50, roll on equal rights for woman. Let's be honest, I'm no Rambo and went down fairly rapidly but I did get a few good punches and kicks in (god bless steel capped boots). I then concentrated on protecting my head with my arms to the best of my ability, while kicking out with those wonderful steel capped boots. Then followed what seemed to be a couple of minutes of being kicked by Brighton and co; whilst those who had encountered the boots and found them not to their liking attacked me with rocks - 'you know the larger 2 handed variety' from a safer distance.

At this stage things were getting a bit blurry. Birgit meanwhile was contending with her own problems. Birgit 1st of all tried to get behind me. Lazarus and 2 others then attacked her with rocks. She received multiple blows to the head and shoulders but managed to stay on her feet. Then they attacked her with rocks and she received multiple blows to the head and shoulders but managed to stay on her feet. It appears the warranty on her "fearsome fingers" had run out. She really needs to have a talk to God about that - it should either work or not work. This crap about 3 confrontations or 3000 miles whichever comes 1st is not acceptable. Birgit tried to find refuge in the garage kiosk with Lazarus and co following behind and continuing to attack her. By this stage Birgit was bleeding profusely from her head wound and was blinded by blood. Her left shoulder had also been dislocated and that arm was hanging uselessly by her side. Rachel managed to get her into her office and then out to her car. Rachel and Birgit then headed for the clinic in Chipinge.

Meanwhile I was still doing my impression of road kill with flailing legs. Pete intervenes and Brighton and crew back off me. I see Birgit departing in the car with Rachel so I turn around and go back to the office to taunt Brighton and the war vets who are busy repainting their signs. They are less than pleased to see me but now keep their distance. No shit, they are copying the slogans from pieces of paper. I told you the arsehole couldn't read. The attack on Birgit has changed the mood of the crowd and they know it. The ironic thing is that the defenders of liberty and justice the Mdfleeee (oops I seem to have dropped a consonant) have high tailed it long ago. I now sit around talking constitutional rights with people who can't even spell ZANU without cribbing. I know it's a pointless exercise but the only reason that I'm doing it is to show them that they can beat me but they can't make me fear them. It's also raising some banter from the crowd which is aimed at them and not to their liking. There's the normal diatribe of "go back to Britain" and "we will kill you" etc. After about 20 minutes one of them tells me I'm going to have to sit there all day so I tell him to f*** off and walk off in the direction of council offices. Brigit has the car and the house keys with her so I'm a bit up the creek in that direction.

I get to Harawa's offices where I'm about as welcome as a plague carrier and start giving him a hard time, about who the hell he thinks he is telling the warvets that Birgit doesn't own the bottle store anymore. To tell you the truth my heart isn't really in it. The adrenalin is wearing off and the shock is starting to set in and I'm feeling decidedly woozy. I manage to commandeer Harawa's chair and phone. I phone Hennie and ask him to come and collect me. In the interim I amuse myself by spreading blood around his office. The body was way past walking mode and was telling the ego to sod off. It wasn't the ego that had just been stomped and the body had the casting vote and the ribs are unanimously behind it. Hennie arrives and we go to his house. I get loaded up on painkillers from Pat and Hennie. I manage to get hold of Roy on Queenie's cell phone and tell him that Birgit's on the way to hospital, I will be following shortly and that the MDC are a bunch of bloody wankers. I've always found that venting spleen is a wonderful reliever of stress and pain. Then Doug came around, has a giggle and calls me stupid (what are friends for) and then hauled me off to Chipinge clinic to join Birgit.

The net result: Birgit had 16 stiches in the head and a dislocated shoulder. I was a lot luckier, no stitches just badly bruised ribs and upper body and some cuts and lacerations. One bright moment; some reporter from VOA was on the phone to Birgit and asked her what she was going to do for protection in future. Birgit replied that she would wear a hardhat in future. The rest of the week has been taken up with hospital, lawyers and doctors.

See photo (left) of Birgit having a bad hair day.

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