Umdala wethu passing on: A journalist perspective
AS the nation commemorated the passing on of Dr Joshua Mqabuko Nkomo on 1 July 1999, to me this day fetches sad memories as I was one of the reporters assigned to cover the death and burial of this iconic liberation hero, freedom fighter and statesman.
In my journalism career, I have covered many funerals of national heroes and heroines, but the death and funeral of Dr Joshua Nkomo has been entrenched in my memory ever since, and I shall never forget.
On this day 23 years ago, I was then employed as a senior reporter at The Herald and my duties included covering the political stories, the Parliament beat as well as other beats as assigned by the news editor.
I was on the afternoon shift on this day and still at home when around 10am, my Ericsson mobile phone, then the mobile gadget choice at the time ranked second after Nokia 5110, rang. It must be remembered that the cellphone was still new to Zimbabwe at the time.
“Where are you, you need to come to work right now,” the unmistakable voice of Ray Mungoshi, my news editor, roared from the other side. “Have you heard the news?” “I am home, I am on the late duty roster,” I answered. “And yes, I have heard the news.”
“Then come to work, and now,” he barked and hung up.
I had heard of the sad passing on of the enigmatic Vice-President Nkomo on radio earlier in the morning. I immediately readied myself for work and jumped into a kombi from Budiriro headed for the city centre.
As I got to the newsroom, I learnt that The Herald was planning to print a second edition of the paper around midday and so every reporter was busy at work churning out copy about the departed Vice-President. The weeks preceding the death of Dr Nkomo and with rumours of the Vice-President’s illness, Tichaona Chifamba had been quietly working on the VP’s obituary. It is common practice in newsrooms to work on obituaries of prominent people, as this serves time and enables the media to break the news quicker.
So I was immediately dispatched to the late VP’s house in Mandara accompanied by Regis Nyandima, one of the senior photographers at The Herald at the time. As we arrived at the house along Harare Drive in the leafy suburb, hundreds of people were already gathering, including senior Zanu-PF and Government officials, among them Cabinet ministers Joseph Msika, John Nkomo, Simon Khaya Moyo, and others. Msika was being interviewed by the ZBC’s Reuben Barwe on the passing on of VP Nkomo. I quickly tapped into the interview as Msika, who worked closely with Dr Nkomo for many years during the liberation struggle in the then Zapu, and after the struggle, spoke glowingly about the fallen Father Zimbabwe. It was really a sombre atmosphere. The mountain had crumbled. A giant had fallen.
Moments later, then President Robert Mugabe arrived and we all rushed into the VP’s lounge as the President paid his condolences to the widow, Mama Joana Mafuyana Nkomo, and the Nkomo family.
There was no doubt that this man was a national hero and it did not need the endorsement of anyone. Growing up in the 1970s, I had been familiarised to this giant of a character through Zapu meetings that used to be held at our house in the high-density suburb of Tafara. My late father was a staunch Zapu supporter and secret meetings were often held at our house during the night. Inside the metal door of our small lounge was a huge portrait of Dr Nkomo captioned “Father Zimbabwe”. Little did I know that my career path would take me closer to Chibwechitedza (Slippery
Rock), as Dr Nkomo was also affectionately known.
In fact, my father used to brag about the exploits of Zipra fighters who he claimed, crossed the mighty Zambezi River from Zambia while carrying weapons on their backs. Zipra was the armed wing of Zapu, which together with Zanu, fought to liberate Zimbabwe from colonial oppression.
Because of my exposure to Zapu politics at a tender age, the loss of Dr Nkomo was a really painful and emotional one. My father was equally affected, and in a very big way.
Declaring Dr Nkomo a national hero was just a formality. A few days after his death and after all the rituals had been done, including flying his body to his home area of Kezi (Matabeleland South), and then Bulawayo, to enable people that side of the country to pay their last respects, it was time to bury Father Zimbabwe, and the whole city almost came to a standstill. I was part of The Herald team that covered the burial at the National Heroes Acre and the national shrine was filled to capacity, with arguably the biggest crowd witnessed there to date. People came from far and wide on foot, by cars, buses, and train to pay their last respects. And yes, some came by plane from neighbouring countries and beyond. The place was full and people climbed onto trees and rocks in the hills surrounding the National Heroes Acre in order to follow the funeral proceedings. The amount of grief was heart-rending.
The old guard who had fought side-by-side with Dr Nkomo against colonial oppression from the days of the National Democratic Party (NDP), People’s Caretaker Council (PCC) and then Zapu also came to pay their last respects and were easily identified by the rabbit skin caps which they wore. The rabbit skin caps, I was told, were a symbol of resistance during the early days of the liberation struggle.
I witnessed an emotional Robert Mugabe giving one of his most moving speeches as he eulogised over the death of Dr Nkomo, during which he fell short of apologising for the 1980s Gukurahundi disturbances which he described as a “moment of madness”.
Indeed, Joshua Nkomo was a national leader, a larger-than-life character who was equally loved from all corners of Zimbabwe, regardless of which tribe one belongs to. The man put his country first ahead of personal glory, virtues which are very rare in many a politician.
Land redistribution, economic empowerment and unity among Zimbabweans was on top of his list of issues he wanted addressed in a free Zimbabwe. Dr Nkomo was a true statesman, liberator, unifier, visionary, and a great Son of the Soil.
Innocent Gore is a veteran journalist, and former Editor of The Herald, Chronicle, The Southern Times and Zimpapers Digital. He is now a communications specialist and public relations practitioner.