Nearly
four
decades
ago,
Ben
Moyo,
who
was
24
years
old
and
a
trainee
teacher
in
Zimbabwe’s
Matabeleland
North
Province,
experienced
a
sad
turn
of
destiny
when
a
deadly
genocide
erupted
in
the
country.
The
genocide
left
Moyo
in
a
wheelchair.
He
was
one
of
the
victims
of
many
roadblocks
mounted
by
marauding
soldiers
that
randomly
killed
villagers
in
Tsholotsho
where
he
worked.
On
that
fateful
day,
he
barely
escaped
death.
The
genocide
came
to
be
known
as
“Gukurahundi,”
and
raged
on
from
1982
onwards.
Elements
within
the
Zimbabwean
army
targeted
the
minority
Ndebele
tribe.
Gukurahundi
is
a
term
drawn
from
the
Shona
language
which
loosely
translates
to
“the
early
rain
which
washes
away
the chaff before
the
spring
rains.”
Moyo,
who
is
a
Ndebele-speaking
native
from
Plumtree,
a
town
on
the
border
between
Zimbabwe
and
Botswana
in
Matabeleland
South
Province,
was
beaten
up
by
the
soldiers
for
failing
to
speak
in
Shona.
The
Shona
people
and
language
dominate
most
parts
of
Zimbabwe.
“I
was
beaten
up
at
a
roadblock
mounted
by
the
soldiers.
I
dislocated
my
spine
and
thereafter
developed
chronic
back
pain.”
Years
later,
he
still
suffers.
“The
trauma
is
not
gone.
Apart
from
the
chronic
pain,
I
remember
my
colleagues
who
were
killed
during
the
genocide,”
Moyo
said.
After
the
Tsholotsho
encounter,
Moyo
moved
to
Kezi,
a
village
in
the
Matobo
district
in
Matabeleland
South
province
where
he
found
a
teaching
position.
This
relocation
did
not
bring
any
reprieve
for
him
as
he
continued
to
witness
more
genocide
horrors.
A
concentration
camp
was
set-up
nearby,
in
Balagwe,
where
many
Ndebele
people
were
rounded
up
and
killed
in
masses.
Many
more
people
recount
the
horrors
of
the
genocide.
Unrelated
to
Moyo
despite
the
similarity
in
surnames,
79-year-old
Sawudeni
Moyo,
who
lives
in
Tsholotsho,
also
suffered
during
the
past.
“We
see
the
hot
sun.
This
year
people
will
be
killed
by
hunger,”
Sawudeni
said
as
he
expressed
his
sadness
at
the
ongoing
El
Nino
drought
in
Zimbabwe.
But
to
him,
this
cannot
surpass
what
many
like
him
went
through
during
the
1980s’
genocide.
“I
suffered
during
Gukurahundi.
My
right
hand
and
cheek
were
broken.
I
am
disabled
now.
I
am
not
afraid
to
speak
about
Gukurahundi
because
I
was
persecuted
then.
If
someone
is
talking
about
Gukurahundi,
it
is
something
that
is
so
painful,”
Sawudeni
said.
Gukurahundi
was
stopped
by
the
signing
of
the Unity
Accord
in
1987
between
then
prime
minister
Robert
Mugabe
and
nemesis
Joshua
Nkomo,
who
headed
a
Ndebele-dominated
opposition
political
party
known
as
the
Zimbabwe
African
People’s
Union
(ZAPU).
Fuzwayo,
a
coordinator
for
a
pressure
group
known
as
Ibhetshu
Likazulu,
based
in
Bulawayo,
says
“the
Gukurahundi
victims
are
suffering
in
different
ways
and
forms.
Some
of
them
can’t
access
medication
because
of
the
economic
situation.
Others
wish
to
know
where
their
relatives
were
taken
to
so
that
they
can
bury
them.
These
are
the
challenges
that
our
people
are
going
through.”
Mbonisi
Gumbo,
an
interim
secretary
for
information
and
publicity
in
the
Mthwakazi
Republic
Party
that
has
over
the
years
been
pushing
for
the
restoration
of
the
historical
Ndebele
State,
blames
the
state
for
inaction.
“Many
who
were
injured,
raped
or
witnessed
their
parents,
brothers
and
or
close
relatives
being
killed,
were
never
counselled
and
had
their
property,
forcibly
seized
by
the
fifth
brigade
army,
replaced,”
he
says.
Zimbabwean
president
Emmerson
Mnangagwa
has
expressed
commitment
to
address
the
Gukurahundi
issue
to
forge
national
unity.
Jeffrey
Moyo is
a
journalist
based
in
Harare.
moyojeffrey@gmail.com