Please take a moment to read this heart-felt letter from Jenni Williams, National Coordinator for Women of Zimbabwe Arise, in which she shares sobering information about conditions in Zimbabwe’s prisons.

My name is Jenni Williams, national coordinator of Women of Zimbabwe Arise (WOZA). I am persecuted for being a human rights defender, just getting over my 39th arrest and recovering from my 3rd stint in a Zimbabwean jail as a unconvicted prisoner. Arrested on the 21st of September World Peace Day, I spent 2 days in horrific conditions at Bulawayo Central Police and then 10 days at Mlondolozi female prison in Khami complex. This brings my tally to 73 days of my life spent in jails wearing the bright green dolly rocker tunic of a remand prisoner. Despite so many arrests, the state has been unable to criminalise my right to peaceful protest so they through a particular officer with personal grudges have now resorted to criminal charges of kidnapping and theft. Anyway that is just a bit of background, the real reason I write this is to make a heartfelt plea to Zimbabweans.

In Zimbabwean jails, you have nothing to do except watch and SEE what happens and to talk to other prisoners. Life in prison is dreary, many nights spent on hard floors, dirty blankets, stinking cells, long hours (16hours) of lock down in small overcrowded cells can surely drive one up the wall. I slept next to murderers, car jackers, thieves , fraudsters, prostitutes, all of them human beings trying to survive. I was not there to judge them but to share in the battle to eke out some form of dignity for oneself and avoid being harassed or beaten or tortured by prison guards. Counting the hours and days in your head or watching how the shadows change as the sun sets as you are not allowed to know the time becomes a favourite past time of many. A prison is supposed to be a place for correction and reform , but Zimbabwe’s prisons become places of slow death and places where one’s dignity and self esteem are stripped. I have seen none of the correction and reform except forced labour or nonsensical things like the daily watering down to clean the 12×25 meter concrete yard.

During 2008, time in prison was hell as there was such widespread hunger and skeletons habited most of Zimbabwe’s jails. Things have improved somehow in terms of supply of food in Mlondolozi but I am afraid to say the food is badly cooked and hungry eyes tell the stomach that it cannot finish the meal served on plastic plates as it is so unappetising. Sadza and spinach is such a simple meal to prepare if cooked in clean pots with clean water and with care but both are lacking at Mlondolozi. The sadza of an indescribable colour with relish of either spinach drowning in it water and not a drop of oil or beans swimming in an Olympic pool of liquid are the 11:30 lunch and 3pm dinner menu. Porridge too is a burden to eat as it is cooked in yesterday’s unwashed pots and 20% of inmates have that magic item called a spoon. Those with the other scare item called a toothbrush use one side for brushing and another for dribbling porridge into their mouths. And so I learn that eating is half hunger and a whole lot to do with how appetising the food is, the result, inmates don’t get their basic right to a decent cooked nutritious meal. Due to my friends and relatives I am able to get a meal and something for breakfast delivered to me daily but as before I find I cannot eat in those conditions and lost 4kgs despite spending most of the day sitting in the tiny yard. One appetite killer is the thought that someone in the cells who does not have relatives to visit and cannot stomach prison food will go for days without a morsel. My colleague Magodonga spent many meal times urging me to eat so I could take my antibiotics to treat the infection of my recent surgery. There was no bathing or shower facilities in Hotel Central Police station and my pleas for clean water for me to cleaning my wounds for 3 days fell on deaf ears, it was if I was asking for a rock from the moon. By the grace of God the antibiotics worked, and the infection has cleared.

I have three things to ask of anyone reading this note but I am no expert but just sharing based on experience. Firstly talking to convicted prisoners, it becomes so clear that that people can be too trusting and this sets them up for a fall. Please take time to study and analyse people and take more seriously advice on how to prevent crime or carjacking. Don’t leave your keys in the ignition and step out. Don’t trust strangers no matter the gender, smile or eloquence. I am not saying go through life being suspicious and lose confidence in the basic good of a human but take the time to THINK before you act. This will and can save you from injury, harm death and or even losing your property.

Following on from the basic good point, some of the crimes that resulted in prisoners being given the yellow dress of a convicted person could have been solved by facilitated dialogue processes. Again, I ask us to think and try to find other ways than to send someone to a prison that cannot feed them in a country that will not reform or correct them. Instead of prisoners coming out as reformed members of society they re-enter society as hardened criminals with little hope of being reformed. I am also talking to employers of domestic staff. The police and justice systems in our country are not working as they should so in the meantime society must find another way to peacefully deal with crime that involves genuine reform and correction and restitution. By the way I have had lots stolen from me and many break ins but because of who I am, I am deprived of my right to walk into a police station and report a crime as it has resulted in my personal persecution for my human rights work.

If you have a relative in jail, please visit them, they need to see you even if you have nothing to give except your smile and a teaspoon or an empty container to use as a lunch box! If you can donate food or practical things to Mlondolozi for the 100 women there, please do so but make sure there is a record of the donation or demand to give it to a prisoner direct or through charitable organisations. Send body cream but not face cream. Don’t send deodorant or things that women like to use to make themselves pretty and feminine because for strange undisclosed reasons feeling feminine is not allowed. During my stints I normally coped by reading magazines or short simple romance novels and prisoners and guards alike had always loaned these books to read so it is something that you can do to help pass the day or night, while waiting for Zimbabwe’s slow wheels of justice to take their course.

May I take this opportunity to thank the many whom I know had me and my colleague in their prayers.

God bless Jenni

Action:

Support Mlondolozi Prison. Contact them directly on +263-9-64228

Or send your support via Zimbabwe Association for Crime Prevention and Rehabilitation of the Offender (ZACRO):
Stand No 12922 Ndhlela Way, Mbare, Harare
+263-4-780401/3, 770046
+263-772-485851, 77212177, +263-773-133673
elisha@zacro.org.zw, edson@zacro.org.zw, zacrehab@mweb.co.zw

I was in a combi and overheard a conversation between the driver (a rather burly man) and the hwindi, which I will not easily forget. It went something like this:

Driver: Ko indaba kungopera power soo?
Hwindi: Shamwari, handina chandadya kubvira nezuro masikati.
Driver: Ko nei usina kudya? Handiti ndimi makaroora manje-manje!
Hwindi: Ndakaramwa chikafu.
Driver: Kuramwa chikafu? Asi unopenga? (The heavy-set/ driver looked like he could stand to skip a few meals himself).
Hwindi:  Shamwari, dai waimuziva mukadzi wangu.
Driver: Hazvina basa izvozvo. Sadza isadza!
Hwindi: Zvaanoita soo. Anondinzwisa hasha dzekutoda kumurova chaiko.
Driver: Saka murovezve! Nhai! Zvirinani kurova mukadzi pane kuramwa sadza!
[The combi erupts with laughter]

English translation

Driver: Why do you seem like you have no energy?
Hwindi: Shamwari, I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon!
Driver: Why not? Aren’t you the one who married recently? [Your wife should be feeding you]
Hwindi: She upset me so, I refused to eat the food she made me..
Driver: Why? Are you mad? (The heavy-set/ driver looked like he could stand to skip a few meals himself).
Hwindi: Shamwari, if only you knew my wife.
Driver: That doesn’t matter. Sadza is sadza!
Hwindi: The things she does sometime! She makes me so mad sometimes, that I just want to hit her!
Driver: So hit her! Really. It’s better to beat your wife than to forego your sadza!
[The combi erupts with laughter]

I, of course was horrified. So many things about this entire situation bothered me, so much so that I began to feel quite confused, which only escalated my anger. How could a man prioritize his food over respect for his wife, however terrible she might be? Why were all these passengers all nodding in agreement? Why was no one in agreement with the hwindi, who was so obviously against hitting his terrible wife that he gave up his evening meal? Why couldn’t they see that there was something wrong with what they were saying? Is this how the majority of people think about the importance of women? What other things are valued more than women are? Where does respecting women rank in the hierarchy of the things valued in Zimbabwean society? (Below your new car or beloved your beer, but just above child abuse?) My head swam with all these questions. Maybe I should have said something, but I was so angry that I could not speak, (and it is a rarity for me to remain silent when I’m angry).

Now if virtually everything is more important, than respecting women (as it would seem, from this overheard discussion), Zimbabwe (and not just its women) has a HUGE problem on its hands. Gender-based violence is an issue that continues to tear the very fabric of our society. It affects us economically, socially and politically. That a man can raise a hand, fist, belt, and as more recently reported, a machete to a woman, in order to solve problems or have his way shows a fundamental breakdown of our humanity as a nation. And for one human being to abuse another, sexually, physically, emotionally and psychologically, something that makes him fundamentally human has been lost. It is essentially, all about respect, even just for the fact that this woman is also a human being. Where are we as Zimbabwe, if we don’t have respect?

The Voluntary Media Council of Zimbabwe (VMCZ) today reported on a new concern which has been raised through their complaints mechanism, Charity Maruta v/s Daily News, NewsDay and the Herald. According to VMCZ:

Charity Maruta has lodged a complaint with the MCC against NewsDay, The Daily News and The Herald in the manner that they have portrayed the supposedly three women rapists arrested by police in Gweru early this month. Maruta says the media organisations have taken it upon themselves to be the judges and have convicted the three women before they even appeared in court. She says this is irresponsible reporting of the highest degree. She wants the media to report the matter responsibly. Letters have been written to the concerned newspapers.

This is a valuable reminder to all of us that we can each make a difference. Holding our media accountable is something we can all take responsibility for. Contact VMCZ for more information about the media complaint mechanism.

Who run the world? Girls!
Beyonce Knowles, Song: Run the world (Girls), Album: 4, 2011

In a world where the majority of women are still struggling with basic human rights issues, it is hard to see how this song applies to us all. Sure, it’s easy for Beyonce, with all her millions to sing about running the world, especially when it’s a possibility for her. But how can I say I run the world when my husband beats and rapes me; or when I can’t get the promotion I deserve, unless I sleep with my boss; or when I get paid less that men who do the same job that I do? How can women say ‘We run the world!’, when, according to the UN statistics division 2010 we account for about two thirds of the 774 million adult illiterates worldwide; and whilst we also make up the majority of HIV positive adults in parts of Africa and the Middle-East, and while only about 50 women (excluding monarchs) in global history, have been Heads of State and Government.

The answer is not in the positions we hold, but in how we define the term ‘running the world’. The focus should not be on control and visible power and leadership structures. Running the world is not about being in charge of it, but who ultimately does the work. I believe we run the world because it could not function without our efforts, (however mammoth or miniscule). We are the more downtrodden of the sexes, and yet we find the strength to just get on with it. Several studies show that housework, rearing of children and employment (formal and informal), included, women work twice as hard as men in a day. Imagine if for one day, all the women on the planet did no work. Who’d run the world?

Musician, Beyonce Knowles’ song, reminds us all of the true identity of women. Many a time, we lose a sense of our identity and power and let our feelings, jobs and duties in the home, shortcomings and disappointments, challenges and defeats define us as women. This song is a wake-up call, so, wake up, women of the world!

Remember, we are powerful beings, and we do run this world, whether we are acknowledged and appreciated for it or not. You may feel like what you do is little or nothing in the grand scheme of things. But what is this grand scheme, but an accumulation of small efforts, like your own? Let the men worry about who’s in charge, while we get on with business.

Now I’m not saying that we should just be content with what we have and suffer on, because after all “we (secretly) run the world”. No! I’m merely reminding women of our importance, and it is my hope that knowing that we play a major part in the world, will help us feel empowered enough to go our there, come out from behind the scenes, and take charge. The world would benefit from a more feminine touch.

Inspired by her parents, this very special woman began Amuya Sara Nursery School, out of her rural home, to look after children of working mothers. The school is situated at Mahusekwa Growth Point in Chihota district. Ms Mkondo sought to relieve their burden, as many of the mothers worked long days in the fields, with their small children on their backs. The children were guaranteed at least one good meal a day whilst under her care, and with her nursing background, she tackled malnutrition among these children and also educated the mothers on the importance of immunization.

Older children were soon drawn in as well, (initially by the food), and Ms Mkondo started a story telling session, led by her late father, to entertain and educate them. After getting a diploma in Library Studies, she managed to get sponsorship to buy books at the book fair and started a library. The Sekuru Sara Children’s Library now has 500 books and is enjoyed by those who can read in the community.

The project soon expanded to include mothers. The women began the Amuya Sara Women’s Group, where they got emotional support and embarked on economically empowering activities.  Making use of another one of her diplomas, in interior décor, she taught the women how to sew goods for sale. This group has proven to be an invaluable resource and ideas base for the women, as they get an opportunity to put their heads together, and improve each other’s lives and skills by teaching each other all manner of things from cooking, to gardening to budgeting and so on.

Ms Mkondo was also interested in including school-leavers and dropouts in the project in order to keep them gainfully and productively occupied. She trained young women to be pre-school teachers and also how to sew, while her brothers trained young men in carpentry and welding.

These projects have had their ups and downs, due to drought, and limited funding, with the nursery school even closing down for a few years. I’m glad to say that the nursery school is operational again and the project has received further support from the chief of the area in the form of land to grow food for the children as he had seen the benefits his community received from this initiative.

Ms Mkondo has had to leave the project in the hands of her brothers and other women she has trained, as she currently works in Harare as a nurse aid. She hopes one day to be able to return to her projects on a full-time basis. In the meantime, she is working on future plans for the expansion of their current library. This small library has become a de facto information gateway in this area. There is therefore the need for a larger building, furniture, more books and a computer in order to sustain and expand the reach of the service.

Even though she has already done so much, one gets the sense that she has only skimmed the surface, and that there are greater things to come from this inspiring woman. What a wonderful place our country would be with more women like Tabeth Mkondo.