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The
woman in me
Grace
Kwinje
April 10, 2007
http://www.zimonline.co.za/Article.aspx?ArticleId=1198
"I will
go before the King, even though it is against the law. And if I
perish. I perish" . Esther 4:16
HARARE - 'What
sort of woman are you Grace Kwinje?- 'Who do you think
you are?- 'What are you trying to prove?-
Questions asked by more
than five baton stick wielding riot police officers as they beat
me up on that fateful day at Machipisa Police Station in Harare
on the 11th of March.
This was round one out
of many.
Yet it was about the
woman in me. It was about me as a woman and what I stand for or
represent.
Each blow epitomised
what they feared and hated in my defiance against them. This translated
into the most brutal assault or dare I say attempted murder on me,
on my person, my being; that woman in me.
I did not respond I stood
still and took each blow as it came. I did not cry. I did not beg
for mercy. None of the comrades present on that day cried or begged
for mercy, none denounced the party or tried to negotiate themselves
out of this horror of horrors that will never be erased from our
memories.
Neither will the physical
or emotional scars ever heal. No amount of therapy can heal what
we went through on that day.
Sekai Holland a 64 year
old grandmother was called a 'whore-, 'Blair-s
whore- to be precise. 'No I cannot be Blair-s
whore he is my son- she said. How dare she respond thus?
Associate herself with
the defiled Tony Blair? And so Sekai was danced on, interestingly
by another woman. 'Iri hure raBlair rinoda varungu,-
translates to 'this Blair whore loves white men-.
Sekai married for 40
years to an Australian was severely assaulted several times. She
broke a leg an arm and three ribs. Why because as a journalist she
made the double 'choices- of marrying a white man and
belonging to the opposition; for that she had to suffer.
She had to be punished
for going against the 'norm-, the 'expected-
by ZANU PF.
That woman in her was
under attack verbally and physically. Her age? Not an issue.
The two young women we
were with were not spared. The young 'whores- according
to the officers had to be taught a lesson.
Together with Sekai and
myself we were beaten on the buttocks. 'Rovai mazigaro-
'beat up the big bums- they shouted.
My black beret fell off
and I got a beating for my blond hair. -Hure rekuHoliday Inn
rovai." "A Holiday Inn prostitute beat her up-.
'Look at the color of her hair.-
The 'sins-
were many. I colored my hair blond in protest after Registrar General
Tobaiwa Mudede denied me a travel document on the basis that it
was a 'state security document- and not a 'right.-
I was slowly being rendered
stateless in my own country.
And so as is the case
too in opposition politics the attack on us women was more on our
sexuality, we were assaulted, humiliated, demeaned in whatever way
they could think of.
Comically again, amongst
us victims were some of the worst male philanderers, but the issue
with them remained political, exposing the misogynistic character
of our society.
We were treated this
way because we are women and nothing else.
As I reflect on, I do
not regret the woman I am and the hard choices I have to make.
It is for these that
in my life I have often been persecuted, socially, sexually or mentally
and this time I have paid an insufferably heavy price that has left
deep scars on my body and soul.
I challenge oppressive
systems in all their forms not just to do away with Robert Mugabe-s
injustice, but also primitive actions by those in our midst that
still place us women in the odd position, of being underdogs even
in the struggle for a democratic and just society.
It is a double battle
for both our political freedom and emancipation, none of which can
be achieved without the other, otherwise it-s a half-baked
revolution, similar to the one we got at independence.
Zimbabwean women in politics
have stories to tell. Opposition politics? More stories.
Over the past months
I have seen myself in and out of jail on various dubious charges
mostly to do with organising and leading illegal demonstrations.
Once I was placed in
solitary confinement at Rhodesville Police station for 48 hours.
The aim here I suppose was just to traumatise me. As I sat there
in that cell on my own I was afraid.
Afraid of many things
to do with being tortured, raped or even being killed. By the grace
of God I came out not touched.
A female freedom fighter
can be killed at any time. In the wee hours of March 12 the military
police came for me at Braeside Police Station, where I had been
dumped half dead already, the night before.
A search for me by family
and friends was in full scale at this time.
I was in a cell with
two other women. One of them was actually nursing and praying for
me as I was in great pain and bleeding. We heard the sound of cars
outside. Foot steps then the jail door opened.
The officer in charge,
Makore pointed at me and said 'uyu Kwinjeh- to four
military intelligence officials. I held on to the two women I knew
I was in danger.
Once again in the fence
of Braeside police station, I was tortured by the officers. They
said they had been given orders to kill and not negotiate with civilians.
This was not a joke because by this time comrade Gift Tandare-s
body lay cold somewhere.
May his soul rest in
peace. I did not know this. The rest I leave to God and his mercy
for me on that night.
They asked me all sorts
of questions as they beat me with short 30 centimetre really painful
baton sticks. I fainted several times but each time they got me
up and tortured me.
Until in the end I could
not stand that is when they asked me to remain seated and stretch
out my legs and they beat the soles of my feet. How I got back in
the cell I do not know. All I know is my life was spared.
They stayed on vigil
outside the fence waiting for further 'instructions-.
Thank God some officials from the Lawyers for Human Rights found
me before the 'instructions- came the next day.
And then it was drama
after drama. Released to hospital under riot police guard; then
no charges; re arrested while trying to leave the country then back
to hospital under riot police guard.
Eventually with Sekai
Holland we made it for medical treatment here in South Africa.
I thank the sisters and
brothers for the solidarity that came in the form of prayers, demonstrations,
night dresses, cake, books, fruit and water.
Above all for taking
the risk of being associated with this kind of woman, by visiting
us at the Avenues Clinic in full view of the police and CIO operatives.
I will end with a quote
from Paolo Coelho-s 'The Zahir-, "I don-t
regret the painful times; I bear my scars as if they were medals.
I know that freedom has a high price, as high as that of slavery;
the difference is that you pay with pleasure and a smile, even when
that smile is dimmed by tears.-
And so the woman in me
will fight on. Aluta Continua.
* Grace Kwinje
is the deputy secretary for international relations in the Morgan
Tsvangirai-led Movement for Democratic Change party
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