Paradzai Zimondi, Zimbabwe’s Prison Commissioner, was a warden for Ian Smith

I had a welcome visit this morning from a dear friend and confidante, an elderly gentleman, whom I will call Sibanda.  His political activity goes way back to the 1960’s – a lifetime of struggle.  He was jailed many times by the Smith government for his affiliation to Zapu on charges ranging from aiding and abetting ‘terrorists’ to not reporting the presence of ‘terrorists’ in his district.  Little did they realise his main job was to smuggle freedom fighters in and out of Botswana through dry river beds.

I asked him if he had heard about the SABC documentary about prisons, and when I showed him the copy I recorded, he wept.  He slowly took off his socks and shoes, showing me the scars of torture, inflicted by a white minority regime bent on subverting the freedom longed for by Zimbabwe’s people.

Ironically these scars are not the only ones he bears, for since 2000 Sibanda has once again joined the ranks of the freedom fighters, only this time the divide is not so obvious: it is not a matter of black and white, it is a matter of the fight for right.  Over the past decade Sibanda has suffered terrible physical abuse from the hands of the very government for which he risked life and limb to put into power.

When I asked Sibanda about Zimondi, he shook his head disdainfully for he has strong memory of the man whose name in Shona means, “murderer” and today lives to fulfil his inherited title.  There is little in the public domain about Zimondi’s early life and I was shocked to learn about his past.

Sibanda knew him from his days of incarceration in Khami maximum security prison.  His last stay as a “guest of the state” was in 1976 when he shared a cell with Dumiso Dabengwa and in the next door cell was none other than Emerson Mnangagwa; all arrested as political detainees.  At that time Sibanda reckons the white prison authorities (who he named as Inspectors Clark and Duncan) realised that in the not too distant future they would have to answer to a majority government, so they began a policy of advancement for black prison warders.

Today’s Chief Commissioner of Prisons, Raymond Paridzai Zimondi worked for the Smith regime and by 1976 he had been promoted to the rank of Chief Prison Officer.

Sibanda remembered from previous spells at Khami, that as a junior officer Zimondi was particularly brutal, known to beat prisoners for the most minor of offences.  Once promoted, he relished his new authority, ordering junior officers to do the beating and often carrying out the violence himself.

On several occasions Zimondi accompanied Sibanda to Mpilo hospital for the treatment of wounds received when tortured by police officers.  Zimondi, unlike other prison warders refused to unshackle Sibanda for treatment, even at the request of the attending doctor.  All the way back to Khami Sibanda was threatened with further violence and abused over his involvement in “terrorism” – he was told it was the “terrs” who endangered the lives of the “good” blacks working for the Smith government.

In those days the prisons were a far cry from the hell-holes they are today.  Sibanda remembers that the political detainees were kept separate from ordinary criminals for they were actively outspoken over conditions in the prisons and the warders feared their courage would infect the criminal element.  Once, the political detainees went on hunger strike over the poor preparation of food: their vegetables were not being cooked properly and were raw!  Zimondi went into action, beating the strikers for daring to complain.

Not for one second should we romanticise Rhodesian prisons, but the contrast between a working system inherited from the colonial regime and the degree to which they have plummeted is true indication of the rot in the Zanu regime and even more evidence for the immediate resignation of the master of the prisons, the murderous Zimondi.

Khami prison is situated over 40km outside of Bulawayo, on a vast tract of land that runs from the Khami river across to the rich farmlands of Nyamandlovu.  In fact the original farm boundary ran along land that once belonged to Sir Humphrey Gibbs.

Khami was once almost entirely independent in its food production, with prisoners working on three large vegetable gardens, expansive fields of maize and wheat, a fully operational dairy and cattle breeding project.  Prisoners received three meals a day and as Sibanda was on a special diet approved by the resident prison doctor, so he had rice and mince every evening instead of the traditional sadza and meat.  The prison hospital worked efficiently, the dispensary was well stocked and prisoners generally treated humanely, although of course there were countless incidents of cruelty and torture.

Sibanda told me of fully equipped workshops where medium and maximum security criminal inmates (not political detainees) could learn motor mechanics, carpentry, rubber mat making, tailoring and book binding.  All prisoners had access to further education funded by the Prisoners Aid Society and access to reading matter was unlimited.  Cold showers in spotless ablutions were compulsory every morning, and while the prisoners were at work, or the political detainees outside for exercise, the cells were scrubbed down. A full time chaplain was at hand to minister to all prisoners.  Prisoners received payment of sugar, cigarettes and rolling tobacco every Friday.

Many prisoners, especially political detainees, were stripped naked every afternoon at 3pm to discourage escape.  But the uniforms were sound and clean.  Three blankets were issued to each prisoner and they slept on wooden pallets.

Today Khami is a waiting room for death, the stench of corpses pervades the weed ridden gardens and fields.  The silent screams of victims unheard by the rest of the world.  Starvation is certain, for few have relatives who can afford to travel the distance to feed them or indeed find the precious forex to buy the food.

Sibanda left me this morning with a heavy heart – for his sake and others like him, join hands to end the terror in Zimbabwe’s stinking jails, make his lifetime of struggle worthwhile.

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