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Prison
Diary April 27 - May 14, 2002
Shane Kidd
Should you wish to make use of any part
of this diary, please contact Shane Kidd on shanekid@mutare.mweb.co.zw
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Wednesday 8th May.
Into everybody’s life a little rain must fall. I’m now in the authoritative
position of being able to confirm that Mwali’s has been burnt because
Talent, Lovemore, David, Chom’s and I are currently residing in
prison accused of the crime. I must say that it’s been a fascinating
2 week exploration of the Zimbabwe police court and prison system.
Shortly after penning those lines on
the 27th April I received a call from Maggie to say that
the guys at the MDC office had been arrested. When we reopened the
office after my last arrest I promised them that if the shit hit
the fan I’d be there with them. So I phoned the Tapiwa (lawyer)
and Rocky briefed them of the situation, collected my toilet paper
ID and went off to find a policeman. On arrival at the office I
was met by Constable Towenezwa (one of the ZRP who assaulted me
last time) & a uniformed ZRP who informed me that I was required
for an interview at the police station. When I inquired what it
was about I was informed "we will not tell you until you are
there & if you do not come we will arrest you". I went
to the garage & phoned Tapiwa again (I’m getting quite good
at phoning lawyers) & told him what was happening & he confirmed
that they had the power to arrest me. I then went outside, told
the ZRP that I would not answer any questions unless a lawyer was
present & if they wanted to they could arrest me. Surprise,
surprise they arrested me on the spot & told me to drive them
to the police station. I refused - I’m not a chauffer, never have
never will be. We then spent the next 30 min loitering around the
garage waiting for police transport. Eventually a decrepit blue
Mazda B1800 arrives with 3 civilians in the front & civilian
registration. I’m told to get in the back. When I ask for the ID
of the civilian who gets out of the Mazda, he tells me that he is
my younger brother. No points for figuring out that it’s CIO. So
I tell him that I’m absolutely positive that my father had nothing
to do with his mother and refuse to get into anything but official
police transport, not some pirate taxi rented by CIO. By this time
we have a large and appreciative audience of Saturday morning village
people so the CIO piss off & eventually the ZRP land rover comes
to collect me.
On arrival at the police station my 4
co-accused & about 6 others are all sitting behind the charge
desk being processed. I ask what we are being charged with but the
police refuse to answer so I join the rest & start taking of
belts, jackets, shoes etc. to be processed. I also tell every body
to relax - there’s lawyers on the way. When I sign my clothes in
I see we are being charged under POSA, Public Order and Security
Act, (Mugabe’s draconian catch all law passed at the time of the
elections). While I’m signing my possessions in the PISI officer,
Constable M…….., even goes so far as to cover up the charge with
his hand, next to where I sign. While we are being charged my favourite
friend Inspector Chagugudzo arrives. When I ask him what we are
being charged with he says "you will be told when I am ready"
swami arsehole.
We are then marched off to the cell which
is crowded with other people on the same charge. For the rest of
the day we wait as more people arrive, pulled out of bars, beds
and some just off the street. By evening there are 23 of us. I’m
glad I decided to come as one of the young MDC guards actually wet
himself in the charge office, so now it’s a matter of trying to
reassure everybody that things are under control and not to talk
until the lawyers arrive. It doesn’t take much intelligence to figure
that there must be 1 or 2 CIO plants in the cell so we spend most
of the time slagging off the ZRP & CIO for fun and waiting for
food that never comes.
The first evening is truly interesting.
23 people settle down on the concrete with10 blankets in a cell
that measures 2.4m by 4.2m. One corner is occupied by a somewhat
smelly open squat latrine of about 1m by 1m which nobody wants to
get too close to. Everybody is trying to sleep with their heads
against the wall but from the hips down we are one huddled mass
of humanity each trying to find a position of comfort. Ha Ha! Question;
if you put one single bed blanket on the concrete floor and one
on top how any people can you fit between. Answer; a lot more, than
into a VW beetle. The secret is to get into the centre of the blanket.
The poor buggers on the edges keep having to fight for their share
in the centre. You at least have a degree of warmth. Not comfort,
just warmth. You’ve heard about synchronised swimming well let me
tell you about synchronised sleeping. You all lie spooned to the
left and it doesn’t matter how sore your hips and ribcage is from
the concrete floor you can’t turn over until every body else does.
Why don’t people sit or stand? Because the only open place is the
squat latrine, so go figure. We are all in our own private hell
when at about midnight the army/police start spraying water through
the windows (just bars, no glass) with a hose pipe. There has to
be at least one policeman involved because shortly before it happened
the cell yard gate opens, which is where the tap is to which the
hosepipe was connected. Only the ZRP has the authority and keys
to get in there. Now there’s a giant stampede to try and keep the
blankets and ourselves dry, but of course there is actually nowhere
to hide except behind each other. After 15-20min they wander off
and the cell is left ankle deep in water. To varying degrees everything
is wet, ranging from sopping to just wet. The 1st step
is to take the wettest blanket and use it to mop the floor, squeezing
it out over the latrine. Once the floor is sort of dry we take our
clothes and remaining blanket and squeeze them as dry as possible.
Now we get back into our damp cloths and spend the rest of the night
huddled under the wet blankets in the faint hope that a combination
of body heat and breathing will dry them out, some hope! It’s rather
like a sauna but not as much fun and no heat. What can I say - a
delightful evening was had by one and all?
Sunday 28th April.
At about 11-12am we are let out of the cell for the 1st
time and are presented with a communal pot of sadza and kapenta
to eat. The sadza is cold, full of ants and looks like it was made
the previous day. It’s also been adulterated by sugar to hide the
taste of something else (my cellmates are very unhappy with this).
The kapenta (dried fish was probably thrown into warm water for
2mins to cook and is also cold and full of ants. I take one look
at this lot and decide to go on hunger strike. This might seem a
great price to pay for the cause but as always I have an ulterior
motive (remember I’ve been in the cells before and know what’s coming).
I defy you to sit on an open squat latrine with a stomach full of
sadza, no toilet paper in front of 22 other people and maintain
a shred of human dignity. They had confiscated my toilet paper when
we where processed. Hunger strike was the easiest decision I ever
made. After 15 min in the yard we where put back in the cell again.
Everyone starts talking and during the
course of the day people start to unite. The main topic of conversation
is politics ZRP & CIO. The majority of the conversation is in
Shona & occasionally I pick up something I understand. When
I’m asked for an opinion I express it otherwise I keep quiet. There
is a lot of resentment about the mass arrest & I do my bit to
stir it, as I’ve said people have been hauled in from all over and
been abused for no reason.
I try to explain that we are now playing
a game. ZRP & CIO are used to acting with impunity, arresting
and intimidating people who don’t know their rights. Brigit is now
complicating their life by calling in the lawyers & the press.
She’s good at it, knows who to talk to and badgers people until
they surrender and do what she wants in the hope that she will go
away. Anyway by getting other people involved we are slowly moving
control out of their hands and into the courts so everyone should
just remain calm. Birgit is seen arriving through the window in
the cell door at about 4pm. The lawyers go into the police station
and Birgit brings food to us (that is dinner time in the cell) we
are let out and she distributes food through the fence as best as
possible. Birgit briefs me in whispers that she got the Daily News
to print the story on Monday. While Birgit is at the cell the lawyers
depart in a hurry, Tapiwa has been unable to come so Birgit has
badgered the Mutare office until they have subcontracted 2 other
lawyers to come from Mutare, and they have just left her at the
police station without wheels. After 15min of eating (everyone except
me), it’s back to the cell for another night of synchronised sleeping.
As yet none of us have been interviewed by the ZRP, CIO.
One message I try to drive home is that
when people start being interviewed, everything said in the cell
will be used. The 3rd person interviewed will be told
that the 1st & 2nd person have accused
him of doing this & saying that. If they just shut up &
demand a lawyer everything will be fine but if they start making
counter accusations then everyone’s life is complicated. I have
a fairly good idea by this time that the MDC security and I are
the main targets (just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they are
not out to get me).
Sunday night about 10pm the army/guards
start flooding the cell again, this time using buckets. The 1st
bucket to come through the window is pure urine followed by about
4 or 5 of water. We have someone on watch so the reaction is better
and not as many clothes and blankets are wet. We even had the worst
blanket designated for mopping up. So after an hour of cleaning
up its back to sleep, yeah sure!
Monday morning 29th April.
Birgit arrives with breakfast (bread and milk) and is well and truly
pissed off. The 2 lawyers high tailed it out yesterday being chased
off by a gun wielding Mwali & Inspector Chagugudzo leaving her
stranded at the policestation. She eventually managed to get hold
of Rocky & George from the club and they come to collect her.
When Birgit gets back to the club the 2 lawyers are at the bar having
a drink to quell their shaking nerves. Birgit told them exactly
what she thought of them in very uncomplimentary language. They
where obviously not the "A" team so it was back to square
one. I figure that this is not news that the others need to hear
so I keep quiet about it. Birgit is doing the best she can. It has
to be understood that the cell yard is small and there is only Birgit
and a couple of wives on the other side of the fence. The rest of
the spectators are army and police standing around heckling, throwing
insults and trying to intimidate us and the women, so communication
is difficult to say the least. Anyway Birgit will be visiting 3
times a day at meals from now on so there is communication with
the outside world.
During the course of the day they slowly
start taking people out for "interviews". What a lovely
euphemism for physical and verbal assault. Until there are only
8 of us left in the late afternoon. At about 4pm Birgit arrives
with Tapiwa the "A" team lawyer. Tapiwa is also handling
my assault charge and doesn’t take shit from anyone, including CIO.
Tapiwa comes up with 2 CID from Chipinge who seem to be in charge
of the case& asks how everything is. I tell Tapiwa that we have
not been told what we are charged with, we have been denied access
to yesterday’s lawyers (he knows it was his "B" team that
did a runner on us yesterday) and I’m on hunger strike. We also
tell him about the water & urine in the cell at night &
although we have made complaints nothing has been done. We tell
CID that we will not make any statements unless Tapiwa is present.
Tapiwa tells CID that he will be back the following day to take
our warned & cautioned statements.
After Tapiwa leaves they bring back 11
of our cell mates from interviews. 4 have been released during the
course of the day. Most have been beaten and CIO, CID wants to know
what MDC security and I have been talking about in the cell. That
night everyone starts singing in the cell. I think they’re hymns
and they harmonize beautifully. At about 10pm we received the expected
shower (thankfully only water this time) but again somebody is on
watch so damage is kept to a minimum. But this time everyone starts
shouting insults at the people who are throwing the water. It doesn’t
do any good but it does help let off steam. There are still only
10 blankets for 19 people, actually 9 because one of them has to
be used as a mop.
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