The story of Jacqueline Tutani

MY name is Jacqueline Tutani and my Chimurenga name is ‘Lovender Pirayi’.
I received military training in Mozambique at Junta Base and later moved to Tembwe One Base where we received further training.
In the grand scheme and objective of the war, there was neither a woman nor a man.
We were all freedom fighters called to contribute to the liberation struggle that sought to do away with the repressive Ian Smith Regime that did not regard blacks as human beings.
Rhodesians treated us not worse, but in ways they never treated their animals.
Thus I joined the war with a single objective, to help liberate my country from the bondage of colonialism.
Attainment of independence would not benefit a particular sex, but all our people that had been disadvantaged by the coming of whites into the country.
Our situation could not be rectified by words, but by the barrel of the gun and I was contributing to the war effort.
Our training included political orientation that involved learning gwara remusangano.
After our training in Mozambique we were posted to Gaza where I also operated as a medical officer.
However, one of the most important roles we played was the transportation of ammunition and other military hardware from Mozambique and Zambia to Zimbabwe, the then Rhodesia.
This was no easy or menial task, transporting arms was dangerous, but necessary.
To fight effectively, we needed to be adequately armed.
We had scarce resources and where Rhodesians drove or flew, we walked.
Before the creation of liberated zones we would transport weapons to the border.
We faced ambushes and attacks from Rhodesians that were equally determined to preserve their privileges.
I remember a particular day we had to transport material from Misau Base to Gonarezhou.
There were a lot of materials that we had to get to the front on that day and we made numerous back and forth trips.
Unknown to us, we had been sold out to the enemy.
Sellouts were a nuisance during the war and made the struggle a bitterer experience.
Someone in the nearby village had rushed to inform the Rhodesians of our presence in the area.
The informants, obviously having informed the enemy that it was an all-women ensemble, they, the Rhodesians, I do not doubt, expected an easy job.
Initially Rhodesians thought they could catch guerillas with bare hands without having to fire guns.
They discovered to their horror that they were very wrong, the ‘terrorists’ were a mean fighting force that only got better and lethal.
Our group which comprised of 30 women would not be slaughtered like chickens.
We saw the spotter plane hovering above us, obviously delivering our coordinates to the ground force.
We were walking in a single file.
Quickly we took cover.
We thought the tall trees were enough camouflage, but the enemy had already pinpointed us and placed us in a killing bag.
Suddenly we heard sounds of pounding hooves of horses.
We came face-to-face with the enemy, their faces were painted black.
They soon realised that we would be no easy target as we started firing.
In no time the place was engulfed in a cloud of smoke as we fought pound for pound.
I had a sub-machine gun which I would like to believe I operated to devastating effect.
We made a tactical retreat as we realised that the Rhodies had come armed to the teeth.
It appeared they were eager to catch themselves some female guerillas, but we knew the terrain; we had studied it anticipating situations exactly like the one we found ourselves in.
Together with a fellow comrade by the name of ‘Chankie’, we slithered away and hid in a cave.
For two days, without food or water, we remained holed in the cave.
We heard the Rhodesians passing in front of the mouth of the cave which was well hid.
We stayed put until we heard people passing through talking with a heavy Mozambican accent.
From the cave we went to our gathering point.
We lost 10 comrades and seven were captured.
Up to today we do not know what happened to the comrades who were captured.
Compiled by Fidelis Manyange