George B is not even sure of his own surname. It’s not written down anywhere that he knows of because in the eyes of the Zimbabwean state he does not exist.
The 27-year-old Bulawayo street trader was made a non-person as a small boy on the day that Robert Mugabe’s troops killed his parents, just two of about 20 000 men and women slaughtered by the Zimbabwean army more than two decades ago. ”I don’t know who my parents were. I think the first family I lived with knew, but if they told me I’ve forgotten,” he said.
For all the difficulties of living in a netherworld of poverty, George B thought violent persecution was a thing of the past. But now he feels hunted as Mugabe once again turns to violence in an attempt to cling to power.
”I don’t have an identity card. I can’t vote. It wasn’t so bad before but now it’s a problem. Things have changed. They think we are the enemy,” he said.
The government’s bloody suppression of opposition in southern Zimbabwe after independence in 1980 is known as the Gukurahundi, or ”the rains that sweep away the chaff”.
The North Korean-trained fifth brigade swept through villages in Matabeleland and the Midlands, shooting people in mass executions. Some of the victims were forced to dig their own graves, others were herded into huts and burned alive. Victims were frequently beaten and forced to sing Zanu-PF songs as they were marched to their deaths. It made little difference whether they were men or women, politically active or not.
The dead left behind tens of thousands of children, many of whom were denied the official papers essential for daily life in Zimbabwe. Without an ID card they cannot take school leaving exams, marry or get government jobs.
George B was three when his parents were killed. He was taken in by one family and then another, and by the age of eight he was living in one of Bulawayo’s poorer neighbourhoods. At 15 he was earning a living trading on the streets.
”The family was good to me. They fed me and sent me to school. But all the children had to work as traders. We sold shoes, flip-flops, and clothes like shirts. You can make money doing that,” he said.
Felix Mafa, director of the Post-Independence Survivors Trust, an organisation that supports relatives of the victims of the Gukurahundi, estimates that there are more than 100 000 sons and daughters of people who died in the massacres.
”Most of the parents who were killed left children who are now adults. Some do not know who they are. Some end up having the identity of someone who is not even their parent. Widows and widowers can’t get access to funds of the deceased because [there are] no death certificates,” said Mafa. ”Those you see selling around are people who have no formal employment, no ID papers. People are scared to come forward and help them because it is very sensitive, very political.”
Bulldozers
Two years ago a second ”rain” swept through Bulawayo and other Zimbabwean towns, once again devastating the lives of men such as George B.
This time it was called ”Operation Murambatsvina”, as the government bulldozed people from their shacks and stalls and drove them from the centres of Zimbabwe’s major towns in what was ostensibly a clean-up of illegal trading. In reality it was targeted at concentrations of support for the political opposition.
In Bulawayo thousands of the stall-holders who were licensed by the city council and paid rates nonetheless saw their businesses and homes destroyed in often brutal raids in which the terrified traders were beaten, to death on more than one occasion.
The United Nations estimates that more than 700 000 people lost their livelihoods and another two million were affected in some way.
George B lost his stall and the wooden structure at the back that was his home. Many other traders did what the government wanted and dispersed to rural villages, where there is little chance of spontaneous mass protests of the kind that Zanu-PF fears could hit the cities. But George B refused to go and today he lives in a corner of a deserted warehouse. He has dragged with him all that remains of his home: the chair he is sitting on, a broken bed, pots and pans he uses on a small electric stove and a few pictures of Jesus.
”I don’t know why they attacked us. People said it was because we are the opposition but we can’t vote. Perhaps they think that we want to get rid of Mugabe because he killed our parents,” he said. ”How can we get rid of Mugabe? He is an old man but he has all the power. I have nothing. How can I be a threat?”
Harassment
Mafa said George B was among those who were victims twice over.
”A lot of those who were driven out were the children of the Gukurahundi victims. These people are hit hard more than anyone else. They had nothing, no education, and what they did have has been destroyed under the pretext of cleansing the towns,” he said. ”I think the government sees them as a threat. It knows what it did to their families and Zanu-PF is worried that they will want revenge.”
The police constantly harass George B and the other informal traders, trying to prevent them from earning a living so they leave town.
”It’s hide and seek,” said Mafa. ”They are scavenging. No one is prepared to assist. When they try and sell tomatoes, eggs, whatever, the police come and they are arrested. They can’t buy and sell. No one likes them. No one sees them.” – Guardian Unlimited Â