Zimbabwe

Zimbabwe

A sixth sense is an intriguing phenomenon. We set off from Lake Kariba on the road to Raffingora in search of an old friend of mine and I was certain we were just going to bump into her.

I hadn't heard from her in a couple of years and I wasn't sure if she would still be in Zimbabwe. Four years ago, when I last visited, Selina had a farm in Raffingora and was setting up painting holidays from her farmhouse lodge. Her cousin, Sophie, who had been living with her at the time was starting up a business producing handmade soaps. But it seemed from the news reports we'd heard that our chance of finding Selina still on her farm was remote.

Goose and I rode into Banket, a town about forty kilometers from Raffingora, and turned into a restaurant that looked like it might have some information on places to stay. As we walked in, I looked around, almost expecting to see someone - and there, sitting a couple of tables away was Sophie!

So much had happened in the last two years; Sophie had married and she and her husband, Nigel, lived on and managed one of the other farms in the area. They kindly invited us to stay. Even though many had been taken over, Selina and her husband, Ian, still had their farms. Selina had recently moved into Ian's farm so she could lease her's out to another farmer who was no longer allowed to farm his own land.

We ended up spending five nights in Raffingora, two with Sophie and Nigel, and three with Selina and Ian. In that time we caught up on our missing years. Selina had stopped running the painting holidays - Goose and I were the only tourists who had passed through the area in some time! - but she continued to farm her cattle and grow paprika.

I was surprised at how calm and relaxed she and Ian (and in fact everyone we spoke to) was about the uncertainty surrounding them. Every farmer had a two-way radio which they used to stay in constant touch with each other and to let each other know about farm invasions and other news.

While we were there a farm further north was invaded and the occupants given two hours to evacuate. But the following day the "war vets" - as the young 'political' land invaders liked to call themselves - had left and the family returned to find their home completely stripped. It was common knowledge that the looters would hide the stolen goods in the bush to avoid being caught red-handed by the police. Then they would wait until it was safe to collect their loot from its hiding place. So the farmers banded together to search the fields and bush land to recover as much as they could find. Ian and Nigel were both called in to help. They came back with stories of wardrobes hiding between lines of maize crop and clothes draped over bushes. Fortunately their 'treasure hunt' was successful enough to return most of the stolen items.

Many farmers had already packed up and left. Those who chose to stay discussed contingency plans if they were forced to leave, but were holding out to see what would happen after the elections in March.

We were invited to dinner by a neighbouring farmer but by lunchtime it was unclear if we would be going. A group of labourers had come to the farm and demanded it be evacuated. However by mid afternoon the row had been diffused and we went to dinner as planned.

Even when the people working for the farm supported their employer, there was always the possibility that the 'war vets' would use intimidation to force their point across. One night they turned up at Ian's farm and we could hear them teaching his farm workers to chant political songs. On this occasion they left peacefully. But we had heard of people being beaten on the soles of the feet in order to force them to comply with Mugabe's 'reforms'. This shocking form of torture often leaves the victim unable to walk comfortably ever again. The farm workers were understandably cagey about discussing politics - fearing retribution should they be overheard talking out against Mugabe. In Kariba, Goose and I had stayed on a campsite at the same time as the local football team. One of the players came to talk to us and was telling us how worried he was about Mugabe's policies. But even he spoke in a whisper and kept an eye out in case anyone was listening.

Unfortunately, the track record of farms run by 'war vets' has, so far, been a poor one. Selina was working hard to provide her labour force with brick houses, sanitation, a play area for the children and a primary school. If Mugabe has his way these projects will, almost certainly, come to an end - a great shame for everyone involved - farm owners and labourers alike.

Mutare

Goose and I left Raffingora and headed for the Eastern Highlands. We spent a couple of nights in Harare and then went to Vumba, just south east of Mutare. The Eastern Highlands is an area of rolling hills and rocky valleys. We stayed on a campsite with a view across the hills to Mozambique. At night we could see the lights of the port town of Beira - our next destination.

Photographs

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