Tanonoka Joseph Whande

I pray that Mai Tsvangirai rests in peace.
I pray that, for the sake of the nation and no longer for himself and his family, Mr Tsvangirai has the courage to emerge from this disaster with the same determination that he had before this tragedy occurred.
I pray that the Prime minister maintains or regains his focus.
Susan Tsvangirai stood by her husband through a lot of trying times and, indeed, she died sitting next to her husband.

It is my hope that Mr Tsvangirai recognises that he and Mai Tsvangirai were no longer ‘private’ people but belonged to the nation and, to that extent, people will always talk about what happened or didn’t happen.

Forgive me, I beg you.

Zimbabweans have endured a lot over the decades.
The death of Susan Tsvangirai is one of several warnings our nation has received since independence and this does not, in any way, mean that her death might not have been an accident.
It means that, once again, we are jolted to the realities of life.
Because, in some cases, the death of a good person unwittingly strengthens or assists the bad.

I salute Mr Tsvangirai for his sheer energy, for his open wish to see Zimbabwe regain its lost glory. I admire him for accepting, against much criticism, embracing Mugabe…just for the sake of the nation.

Tsvangirai’s sincerity and humility could not have been more apparent than when he groaned and struggled to sit up in his hospital bed to greet Mugabe who had come to see him.
I felt some revulsion to see Grace Mugabe shedding a tear or two and was reminded of Mugabe kneeling before Levy Mwanawasa’s widow.
Tsvangirai struggled up and reportedly said to Mugabe, “Baba, mwana wenyu waenda. Zvakangoitikawo.” (Father, your daughter is gone; it was an accident).
I was unable to keep down my own tears as I watched the scene on television.
Had Tsvangirai felt wronged, it would have been clear. He had lost a wife and had barely come out with his own.
But he maintained his cool and respect. I salute him.
Mugabe had, of course, brought in television cameras with him.

Now, I want to purposely digress and say to Mr Mugabe that there comes a time when a man, a father and a leader has to acknowledge shame.
There comes a time when, given all that life has given you, you say thank you and you sit down and watch the people you have weaned and liberated enjoy the legacy of your efforts.
In your case, Mr Mugabe, you should have taken time out to enjoy what you did for Zimbabwe.
You are now throwing handfuls of sand into the good food you cooked for the nation.

It is unfortunate that today, you interfere with what your people want to do for you.
It is regrettable that you, yourself, have no sense of time.
Your ideas, intentions and manners have become a burden to the nation.

You are selfish, Sir, and I say to you that you are being unkind to the nation for denying us the opportunity to thank you for what you did for us.
You continue to deny us the respect that we should willingly bestow on you.
You make us orphans for, regardless of your forced presence, we are orphans; we don’t have a president. Not at all, Sir.

I am ashamed to be taking a cue from you who use burial ceremonies of other people’s children as platforms to embarrass us in the eyes of our community and the world.
However, well-intentioned, you have become too synonymous with funerals, Sir.
It appears as if your favourite captive audience is a funeral congregation unavoidably brought together by what you have recently coined “the hand of God”.

Since the days of the liberation struggle, car accidents have been synonymous with ZANU-PF, whenever it wanted to get rid of a foe or of one of its own political children.
Car accidents with trailers sideswiping a victim’s car or hitting badly parked trucks litter ZANU-PF’s history.
Today, our suspicions must be forgiven but understood.

Josiah Tongogara died under as still unexplained circumstances when his car allegedly hit a military truck parked by the roadside.
After his death, ZANU-PF released an undertaker's statement saying his injuries were consistent with a road accident, but no autopsy results or pictures were released.

After independence, many of our compatriots active in politics died in mysterious car accidents.

Interestingly, Mugabe’s last three Political Commissars all died through highly questionable road accidents.
Eliot Manyika perished in December 2008 after his Mercedes Benz sedan reportedly overturned.
“A tyre on the official Mercedes-Benz in which Cde. Manyika was travelling burst, resulting in the driver losing control,” said the official report. “The vehicle veered off the road then rolled. He was pronounced dead on arrival at Mater Dei Hospital in Bulawayo.”
The man Manyika had replaced as ZANU-PF Political Commissar, Border Gezi, also died the same way.
“The Mercedes-Benz burst a tyre, resulting in the driver losing control,” said the official report. “The vehicle then rolled once and veered off along Masvingo Road on Saturday morning April 28, 2001. He was pronounced dead on arrival at Mater Dei Hospital in Bulawayo.”

Maybe the Mercedes Benz Motor Company should sue Mugabe and ZANU-PF for tarnishing the image of their product.
Or, conversely, ZANU-PF should sue Mercedes Benz for killing its officials.
Surely, Benz vehicles can’t just burst tires and overturn, killing Mugabe’s people?

And now our Prime Minister has barely come out alive from a car accident that claimed his wife’s life.
After the accident, the MDC said that they wanted an independent investigation of the accident, implying that they were suspicious of the accident.
But early this week, in a now familiar MDC flip-flop, the Prime Minister himself told the press that it was, indeed, an accident.

The Prime minister’s advisors should have allowed him to face the press only to assure the nation that he was on the road to recovery and not to comment on the accident itself since it is the subject of a court case.
Although we have absolutely no faith in Police Commissioner Chihuri and his men, the Prime minister might have pre-empted police investigations.
Granted, the prime minister is an eyewitness to the accident and no one disputes that.
People necessarily want to know how it happened and what caused it.
This accident is not a family matter; it is a national issue.

The Prime minister’s statement that might have helped to calm nerves and avert possible violent repercussions. I believe it was well intentioned.
We should, however, let the dust settle and then talk. We know that foul play of this nature is made to appear real.
We are still talking about Tongogara’s accident, Sydney Malunga’s, Ziyambi and Samuel Parerenyatwa’s accidents.
There was also Ndangana, Duri, Mahachi and many others.

It must have been chilling for Tsvangirai to look up and see the Mugabes, Emerson Munangagwa, the Director of the Central Intelligence Organisation and a host of other Mugabe loyalists who had always persecuted him staring down at him.
Could Mugabe have gone to the hospital to warn Tsvangirai of possible worse things to come while he was in mourning and while his own wounds were still fresh?
Could Grace Mugabe really cry in sympathy with Tsvangirai?

Why was the person who took photographs of the scene of the accident arrested?

Forgive me for being skeptical. I have walked down this road before.
The heart of the matter is that we are now afraid to believe, off hand, such car accidents.
We have buried so many of our compatriots who died in still unexplained and mysterious car accidents.
We wonder why such unexplained car accidents only happen at critical times.

Yes, an allegedly drowsy truck driver might have hit Tsvangirai’s car but was that the accident?
Or the accident was that Tsvangirai did not die?

Whether it was an accident or not, none gives us comfort.
You see, I am very suspicious of the executioner who comes to my home to pay his respects after hanging my kin.
What do you think? Send me your comments on tano@swradioafrica.com
I am Tanonoka Joseph Whande and that, my fellow Zimbabweans, is the way it is today, Thursday, March 12, 2009.