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Caught up in Rhodesian genocide mission

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The story of Cde Denny Nyoni

DURING the liberation struggle I operated mostly in the rear, in Mozambique, as a driver. Our vehicles like us endured difficulties; they travelled over harsh terrain and were always in need of constant attention. Thus one windy morning in September 1977, I woke up and prepared to go and fetch the Land Cruiser I drove which had gone for service at Mudzingadzi garage. I was stationed at Chimoio. I was given a lift by Cde Emerson Mnangagwa’s driver, Cde Sub. We rode with Cde Chademana, Cde Sydney Sekeramai, Cde Kumbirai Kangai, Cde Simbarashe Mumbengegwi and Cde Dzarira, a medical officer. On arriving at the garage we found the place deserted. We were informed that one Cde Peter Mabhunu had sent people out of the camp as there would be an imminent enemy attack. He had been informed by the spirit mediums that the Rhodesian forces were going to attack the camp. The party, ZANU, had bought trucks from Sweden and the Rhodesians wanted to destroy them. Not everyone believed the spirit mediums, some chose not to pay attention to them. Thus while we waited for my truck, not everyone had left, Cde Mupunzarima, a senior guerrilla, sent one of the young guerrillas to go and order people to return to the camp. Fortunately before the people could respond to the order, Rhodesian fighter jets appeared. The bellies of the jets opened and a rain of bombs poured down. As the first bombs landed and exploded, I was lifted and flung away from the garage by the vibration. When Rhodesians came on a mission to destroy they meant business, they were genocide missions. I lost consciousness for about 10 minutes. And when I came to the first injuries I felt were those on my left hand. The bombs were devastating, I realised I was in the open with no cover. Trees had been hewn by the bombs and were left ineffective stumps that did not provide cover. Helicopters were hovering in the sky picking out survivors. They were also dropping paratroopers. Painfully, I crawled seeking some cover. Despite the horrific ordeal and blacking out I still had my gun, tightly clutched. As I crawled I saw, in a hazey, a bearded man and I pointed my gun at him. I asked him who he was and he reminded me that we had driven in the same truck from Chimoio. It was Cde Simbarashe Mumbengegwi, our chief representative in Australia. He had escaped with bruises all over his face. We crawled to the banks of a nearby river. The Rhodies left after the sortie obviously disappointed on discovering that though they had destroyed our arms and vehicles, there were only a few people in the camp. It is the people, the fighters that were a pain in the backside of the Rhodies. All their aerial raids were meant to kill as many fighters as possible. When everything quietened, I gave Cde Mbengegwi my pistol as we began to ascertain the damage. We soon heard voices of people walking along the river. I took the firing position. There were three black Selous Scouts. My eyes locked with those of one of them. He saw the barrel of my gun pointing at him. He silently passed without alerting his colleagues or he would be the first to receive a bullet. I didn’t fire because we were outgunned. They passed us without being any wiser except for the Selous Scout who had seen me. We went back to the camp. Cde Mnangagwa’s truck was burnt. We then went to a nearby village where I met fellow comrades I operated with. We rushed to meet Cde Allan and Cde Nhamo. And we were delighted to hear that many of the guerrillas had escaped unhurt. Only Cde Chadema who was a member of the High Command was seriously injured. We organised a truck which ferried Cde Chadema to Chimoio for treatment. This truck also ferried our leadership to Chimoio. As for me, I walked 30 kilometres back to Chimoio with Cde Allan and Cde Nhamo. Compiled by Emergencey Mwale-Kamtande

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