CDE Kufa was the quiet cadre – who only spoke when asked and when he did so it was softly.
When at a posto, he could remain quiet and indifferent to all the conversation and laughter around him.
To most he was an eccentric – a man who lived in his own world.
But in that silence was unquestionable discipline, when called to action he never missed a step.
The raw young cadre fresh from training could never understand him.
Cde Kufa never quarrelled with anyone.
I never saw him in any controversy with his companions or with command.
Many of us had been at one time disciplined for one reason or another, but not Cde Kufa.
I cannot call him docile, but he was not aggressive by all standards of a guerrilla in the cauldron called Chimurenga.
Cde Kufa did not smoke.
His behaviour did not suggest any influence of dagga.
If Cde Kufa had a psychological problem it had nothing to do with drugs of any kind.
The bloodshot eyes were a common phenomenon, typical of any guerrilla who after all never had enough sleep.
I have no record of where he had trained – definitely it was not Nachingwea.
He did not speak any Swahili nor did he throw in a Swahili word in his conversation.
I had not set foot on Tanzanian soil.
The little Swahili I spoke was picked up from the Nachingwea graduates especially the Fanya Haraka (hurry up) and Maliza Maliza (Finish up) intakes.
For some reason these two intakes at Nachingwea not only learnt military skills from the Tanzanian Peoples Defence Forces, but also acquired the language because military instruction was in Swahili.
We of Mozambican chimbi chimbi (hasty training) called the Tanzanian trained forces go pande (at ease).
Against this background I can safely assume Cde Kufa never set foot on Tanzanian soil.
He looked like he had trained in one of those bases in Chimoio or Tembue.
He was possibly a graduate of Takawira I at Chimoio.
I strongly believe he was a veteran of that furnace called Tembue, the famous chikoro chehondo (military academy).
I never came round to know where exactly.
He was the simple operative who was given basic guerrilla skills – chimbi chimbi and sent into operation.
These were real guerrillas who were good at harassing the enemy when at full advantage and could vanish at a moment’s notice.
It is these guerrillas who opened up new operational zones in Manica and Gaza provinces in 1976.
By the time some of us came to the front in 1977 they had pushed the war zone deep into the country.
Cde Kufa would have been the kind of person who would have beat a hasty retreat in guerrilla fashion without firing a single shot.
When the incessant chatter of machineguns shattered the morning silence a few days before the ceasefire of 1979 many simply bolted and I will appreciate why. Why would you want to risk your life in a war that was coming to an end?
The constitutional and political phases had been completed.
Lord Soames was already in Harare to implement the Lancaster House Agreement. In the final phase the generals were bargaining hard to cut the best deals for their armies as ceasefire was only a few days away.
Amid the intense negotiations on implementation of the ceasefire, firefights continued to rage across the country as the madness of war reached its crazy climax.
So in the melee of battle many showed a clear pair of heels and among them was a gentleman called Chaka who carried the medical kit.
Seven of us were hemmed in by a left flank of a huge wave of Madzakutsaku as they swept both banks of the Mubvumira River northeast of St Barbara’s Mission in Nyanga.
It was a brief, but bloody skirmish with heated exchange of fire.
It appeared the guys had little experience.
I never expected Cde Kufa to be one of those to be in action.
Instead he was part of the team that dug in and covered the retreat of the others.
On the first shot he took position alongside others and coolly returned fire.
There was an intense exchange of fire.
In the heat of battle it was difficult to appreciate his performance but he acquitted himself well.
He was not in any hurry he was going through his paces as we engaged Dzakutsaku as if a firefight was just an early morning chore.
We brought down several then we had one casualty with a bullet wound on the upper part of his arm.
That injury marked the end of the fireworks, we had to attend to him.
The withdrawal was smooth.
For the casualty – the bullet had shattered the humerus leaving an ugly wound.
We managed to control the bleeding and I stripped my denim jacket into bandages (it was only a few months old!) as we found our way out of the battle zone.
We managed to retreat to the safety of Mushanawani Village some 10 kilometres downriver and we tried to make the casualty comfortable with a rock as a pillow and continued to strip our denim jackets in lieu of bandages.
We had requested for some medical supplies and food from St Barbara’s Mission and they finally came around midday.
The supplies were Godsend.
Whoever had packed the kit had good knowledge of medical requirements after a firefight.
The bandages, wads of cotton, antibiotics, painkillers, syringes and the countless phials – it was a whole pharmacy!!
There was one snag: where was Chaka?
Who else could handle this bullet wound.
I had very little knowledge and we looked at each other not sure what do next.
All recoiled.
Unasked, Cde Kufa stepped forward.
He opened up the package of medical supplies.
I was surprised, what did this imbalanced comrade on the verge of insanity know about medical treatment?
Without much speech he examined the wound, cleaned it with some spirit, dressed it carefully.
Initially we all watched with concern.
We all knew Cde Kufa had never been near a medical kit, but he went through his paces quietly in his slow, gentle manner as if he had been working with a medical kit in all his days in the front.
It was when he administered the injection that I was overwhelmed.
I still have that image as he prepared his syringe expertly.
He had his cotton swab with spirit, his syringe in position, selected a spot on the backside and gently injected the patient.
I was lost for words.
I had seen nurses go through their paces and this was the skill I saw in this eccentric comrade.
A few minutes later the patient was comfortably asleep with Cde Kufa brooding over him all the time.
We spent the rest of the day guarding him and his patient.
At sunset we carefully carried our casualty and formally handed him over to the medic.
We filed our report, ‘real medics’ took over and everyone conveniently forgot Cde Kufa.
Five days later it was ceasefire we all went in different directions.
No one came to remember this remarkable comrade who came to the rescue of a comrade at a critical moment.
I do not know what happened to Cde Kufa.
I think this is the first time anything has been written about this remarkable comrade.
The nation owes him a token of gratitude – he saved a comrade’s life.
Author’s note – (This is the real Chimurenga name of this comrade. He operated in Makoni detachment, Tangwena sector of Manica Province. If anyone has information on Cde Kufa please contact The Patriot.)