Shackled and handcuffed in pairs, the 70 men sporting bushy beards and khaki prison uniforms shuffle silently into a barn-like building surrounded by barbed wire fences and imposing walls.
It is here in Chikurubi Maximum Security prison that the magistrate’s court sits in judgement over the suspected mercenaries arrested almost five months ago on charges of plotting a coup in oil-rich Equatorial Guinea.
Tucked away between lanes of trees on the outskirts of Harare, the heavily guarded prison farm is home to the 70 men living among hundreds of inmates considered Zimbabwe’s most dangerous criminals.
It is a huge security complex with the first entrance gate located about one kilometre from the prison building which is surrounded by stretches of bush and trees and battered streets.
A group of guards, dressed in camouflage uniforms with rifles casually swinging from their shoulders, stare suspiciously at visitors and signal them where to stop their vehicles for the first of three car searches leading into the compound.
”There is no way you can escape out of this place,” said Jerry Carlse, the brother of former soldier Harry Carlse, one of the accused.
The barbed wire fences and walls topped with razor wire are 10 metres high.
The complex with its old-fashioned pale blue prison trucks might seem shabby from the outside, but it is constantly patrolled by dozens of guards who regard any visitor as an intruder.
For the families, the trial twice-postponed and now adjourned until August 18, has been a test of nerves.
The family members have spent the past months battling Zimbabwe’s prison bureaucracy to secure visits and deliver groceries and warm clothes to the men.
Some of them have resorted to bribes using anything from cash, packets of South African dried meat, a delicacy known as ”biltong”, and even cellphones to be able to visit their relatives.
Last week, prison guards imposed a new rule on them: They are not to park inside the security complex any more. They have to walk almost a kilometre to the building.
Journalists and laywers are permitted to drive in but have been forbidden to give the family members a lift.
Amid the gloom of Chikurubi, the wives and brothers of the ‘Harare 70’ indulge in some humour.
”Hey, I read in this morning’s papers your husband’s going to get 15 years!,” one says in jest.
”That gives me enough time to find a new husband,” the other quips as they eat their sandwiches while waiting the usual two to four hours in the parking lot before being allowed inside.
Inside the makeshift court, the men shuffle in slowly in three separate groups and take their seats on rickety wooden benches.
The suspected mercenaries, including their alleged leader Briton Simon Mann, were arrested on March 7 at Harare airport where they had arrived from South Africa to pick up weapons which they say were meant for security work on mines in the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Most of the men are broad-shouldered and fit and appear relaxed, some leaning nonchalantly against the walls while others lock gazes with their wives.
After nearly five months in the prison fortress, the men appear to hold out few expectations.
It is just another long day in prison. ‒ Sapa-AFP