On a wall outside a crumbling school in rural Gokwe, central Zimbabwe, a battle is being fought.
A youth is pasting a Morgan Tsvangirai poster over graffiti, written in bright orange paint, proclaiming: “Good morning Makoni.”
A few years ago, this would have been a job done under cover of darkness, and hurriedly, without the patience the meticulous pro-Makoni graffiti artist must have had.
But this is close to midday on a Monday, and a volunteer for Simba Makoni has left his car to tackle his Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) rival.
They haggle over this spot, which is a prize location, as it faces a bus stop. There’s a handshake and a joke, and a deal is struck; the MDC activist will take the rest of his posters elsewhere.
Not long ago, both activists would have had to be either really brave or really foolish to show their support publicly, let alone campaign for anyone other than President Robert Mugabe.
But in this election campaign Mugabe’s opponents are surprised at the ground he has allowed them in his rural strongholds.
Over the past two weeks, Tsvangirai and Makoni have campaigned in three Mashonaland provinces previously inaccessible to the opposition.
On the weekend, Tsvangirai, looking to target rural areas that hold the bulk of voters, chose Mashonaland Central to hold the first in a series of planned rallies.
And on Tuesday Makoni followed up last week’s tour of Mashonaland East, which has handed Zanu-PF some of its biggest wins, by taking his campaign into Mashonaland West, Mugabe’s home province.
“We were surprised that we have been allowed into areas we have never been in before,” a senior Makoni aide said this week. “We want to continue pushing the line, see how far we can really go before we start getting the roadblocks.”
But while some avenues are surprisingly clear, many more are littered with the usual ruling party obstacles.
George Sibotshiwe, Tsvangirai’s spokesman, said supporters travelling to the Mashonaland Central rally had to endure intimidation from Zanu-PF activists. And at Juru, a centre in Mashonaland East, an MDC rally was stopped altogether after police sealed off the venue.
On Tuesday, the MDC lodged a complaint with the Zimbabwe Election Commission (ZEC), which runs elections, protesting at what it said was increasing state harassment of its candidates and supporters across the countryside.
Sunday brought some of the starkest evidence of how difficult it remains for the opposition, when police stormed the stage to stop Makoni in mid-sentence while he addressed a rally in Harare, saying his one-hour allocation was up.
The ZEC has said it will investigate the incident, but few expect the commission to chastise the police, as police chief Augustine Chihuri is part of the Zanu-PF campaign.
Back in Gokwe, the Makoni volunteer arrives at a friend’s store, a small, struggling operation that sells liquor and a few groceries, mostly imported from South Africa.
Rundown as the store is, it stands like an island in the midst of deprivation, and people sit on the porch for hours, talking.
The owner, known here only as Moyo, is a former history teacher. He tells of how, eight years ago, he fled from his teaching post in San-yati, Mashonaland West, after he was attacked by Zanu-PF activists who accused him of urging his students to support the MDC.
Coming back home to help run his family grocery store in Gokwe was not without its risks. During the campaign for the 2005 general election the store was looted by people who accused him of selling maize meal to customers without “party cards”.
Today, although tensions at this rural outpost are heating up, he is surprised at how openly the opposition is organising. “I never thought I would see the day when a person with an MDC T-shirt could walk in here and leave without both of us getting into trouble,” Moyo says. “People sit on my stoep and talk; they talk about Makoni, about Tsvangirai. They talk about how hard things are, and about Mugabe.”
On Monday, the talk inside the store was about the defection to Makoni’s campaign of Dumiso Dabengwa, a Zanu-PF politburo member, and whether or not this would hurt Mugabe.
So, does all this surprising political freedom mean that Zanu-PF meant it when, at South African-mediated talks with the MDC, it pledged to open the space to its opponents?
The cynicism is biting. “No, of course not,” says the Makoni supporter. “Mugabe always has some kind of plan. We all have to be careful showing our faces here.”