|
Back to Index
Jail
fears prompted journalists' flight
Institute for War & Peace Reporting
(Africa Reports: Zimbabwe Elections No 09, 23-Feb-05)
By Brian Latham in London
February 23, 2005
http://www.iwpr.net/index.pl?archive/ar/ar_ze_009_1_eng.txt
Valentine's
Day, February 14, saw yet another setback for journalists in Zimbabwe.
Police from the country's feared Law and Order Section raided the
office used by Associated Press freelancer Angus Shaw, Jan Raath
a stringer for the Times of London and me, the freelance correspondent
for Bloomberg News in New York.
The police conducted
two searches over two days without warrants. Hard drives were removed
from computers and unencrypted without permission. In the constant
company of officers, we weren't even allowed to visit the lavatory
without supervision.
The office,
in Harare's downtown Avenues District, had been used by journalists
for decades. Its location has never been a secret to anyone and
it was widely known among journalists as the old gentlemen's news
cooperative because, uniquely these days, it was shared by competing
agencies.
Our lawyer Beatrice
Mtetwa, a brave protector of the press over the years, received
information that Zimbabwe's police were going to pursue charges
against us at all cost. Independently of Beatrice, we were also
tipped off by sources in the country's ruling ZANU PF party who
said the authorities were going to jail us.
The police eventually
left the office on Monday evening, saying they would either come
to our homes or summons us by phone to Harare Central Police Station.
After about six hours of endless questioning and not-so-veiled threats,
we jointly decided we had no option but to flee.
Earlier in the
day, the police, who refused to give their names, had told Beatrice
Mtetwa they did not need information to search our offices or question
us.
"First
we find suspects, then we get information from the suspects,"
they said, laughing when Mtetwa said it was supposed to be the other
way around.
Leaving the
country was fraught with potential difficulties. Harare International
Airport, guarded heavily by police and state security agents from
the Central Intelligence Organisation, was ruled out. Instead we
left by road, separately and heading for different borders at different
times.
We left behind
us our homes, our country, our friends and our families, losing
everything in a flight for freedom in strange, new countries. The
future has never seemed more uncertain.
As for the people
who helped us escape, they cannot be named and their help cannot
be written about. To do so would invite the certain wrath of the
authorities, incarceration, beating and possibly worse. If journalists
have a tough time in Zimbabwe, so too do ordinary people who have
seen their fathers tortured, their wives and daughters raped and
their homes burned to the ground by President Robert Mugabe's notorious
Green Bomber militias.
Our departure
came just six weeks before a general election set for March 31 that
will see the ruling Zanu PF pit itself against the Movement for
Democratic Change. The poll has already been dubbed "the free
and fear" election by residents of Harare's overwhelmingly
MDC controlled townships.
With the effective
closure of the Associated Press, Bloomberg, DPA and Times bureaus,
Zimbabwe's already embattled foreign correspondents association
has seen its numbers fall catastrophically. Only the tiny Reuters
and AFP bureaus remain to cover an election in a country the size
of California. The Zanu PF-controlled government has already made
it clear that "unfriendly western nations" will be barred
from sending observers and monitors.
Still, many
say our forced departure was to be expected. We follow in the footsteps
of others evicted even more forcefully. Long-standing old Africa
hands like Andrew Meldrum of the Guardian was deported, illegally
and literally by the scruff of his neck, for no apparent reason.
Others like David Blair of the Telegraph saw applications for their
work permits refused for no given reason.
Our predecessors,
though, had all been born abroad. Angus Shaw and I were born Zimbabweans.
We were educated and brought up there and had lived almost our entire
lives in the country. Meanwhile Jan Raath, born in neighbouring
South Africa, had made Zimbabwe his home over 30 years ago and remains
a Zimbabwean citizen. But birthright and citizenship counted for
little on Valentine's Day 2005.
Others have
asked why we did not remain to fight the system, why we fled. The
truth is that we could not fight.
During the last
five years of political upheaval in Zimbabwe, all three of us have
witnessed brutality the country has not seen since the 1970s bush
war that ravaged then-Rhodesia. For the lonely individual, the massed
Zanu PF forces of militias, police, spy agencies, informers and
soldiers is unbeatable. We had to escape because the option was
a disease ridden prison cell, possible torture and almost certain
beating and humiliation.
Uppermost in
my mind was the almost nine-month incarceration of Mugabe's own
finance minister, Chris Kureneri. He has been charged, but not tried
for, the very same "economic crimes" the police levelled
at us. If Mugabe is prepared to let his own minister rot in prison,
what might he charge us with - spying, working as "illegal
journalists", publishing information likely to be prejudicial
to the security of the state and economic crimes before us?
*Brian Latham
has for the time being sought refuge in London.
Please credit www.kubatana.net if you make use of material from this website.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License unless stated otherwise.
TOP
|