(TALKZIMBABWE) My ordeal at the hands of Ian Khama

My ordeal at the hands of Ian Khama
Caesar Zvayi-Opinion
Tue, 19 Aug 2008 03:01:00 +0000

WHEN I bade farewell to the driver behind the wheel of the hotel shuttle that day, I reminded him to come a bit earlier, preferably around 4pm as I wanted to watch the opening ceremony of the ongoing Beijing Olympics.

That was around 8am; 12 hours later everything had changed. I was, instead, staring at the dark green walls of a stinking prison cell at Tshesebe Police Station, just 50km shy of Plumtree Border Post, awaiting deportation from Botswana to Zimbabwe.

My crime? I had been placed on EU sanctions list and the president of a sovereign African country, Rtd Lt-Gen Seretse Khama Ian Khama of Botswana, had seen it fit to act on EU sanctions even though Botswana is in Southern Africa, a 12-hour flight from the closest EU state, by today’s fast jets.

It all began when I was offered a lectureship post by the University of Botswana in the Media Studies Department in March. As soon as news of my appointment filtered to opposition circles, some MDC functionaries and activists wrote a flurry of letters and e-mails to the university expressing outrage at my appointment accusing me of trampling on the rights of Zimbabweans by writing in support of the Government.

The university naturally ignored them, after which they turned to the students trying to incite them to boycott my classes. When that failed, they took the campaign to the newspapers, which appeared reluctant to swallow their story as they could not find anything newsworthy in the allegations.

Their big break came when I was included on the EU sanctions list ‘‘for stifling democracy’’ in Zimbabwe. From there the campaign was directed to the House of Chiefs, of which Ian Khama (Khama IV) is a member, having descended from Khama III, one of the Kgosi (chiefs), who along with two others — Bathoen 1 and Sebele 1 — approached the Queen of England, Queen Victoria, in October 1895, to ask for protection from Boer encroachment as other African countries selflessly fought colonialism in the region.The trio’s actions saw Botswana become a British protectorate sworn to the politics of Western appeasement, and the trio venerated as Batswana heroes to this day.

The EU sanctions list, which was released on July 23, was a big story in the Botswana media, which picked it a week later. Many of the papers wrote defamatory pieces about me without even bothering to ask me for my comment. Only one of the papers, The Botswana Gazette, called me for comment, and I told them in no uncertain terms that I made no apologies for being Zimbabwean and backing the Government’s pan-Africanist values and empowerment policies.

Through it all, the university was behind me, telling the lobby that it does not employ people on political grounds.

First off the block was Barclays Bank Botswana which gave me a letter advising me that they were closing my account within 30 days and I had to make alternative banking arrangements. Though the reason for the closure was not in the letter, as he handed me the letter, the bank manager said they were a British bank and that I could no longer be their client on account of the sanctions.

After that, the campaign appeared to falter.

Save for a few hysterical letters in some newspapers, urging Khama to send me packing, the dogs of war, it appeared, had backed off.

It was a total surprise therefore when, last Friday, August 8, four men — an immigration official and three security agents — burst into my office just after 11am and asked me to accompany them to the Immigration Department.

I asked them why, as I had my residence and work permits which were valid till June 30 2010 and a valid passport that expires in 2011.

Their response was: "You will know when we get there."

After asking for some IDs and calling the embassy to get me a lawyer, I accompanied the four men to their van at the students’ car park where, as a precautionary measure, I called the embassy to give them the vehicle registration number, colour and make in case the guys were not what they claimed to be.

Ten minutes later, we were at the Immigration Office were a stone-faced middle-aged woman handed me a letter signed by Khama and bearing his office stamp declaring me ‘‘an undesirable inhabitant of and prohibited visitor to Botswana’’.

The letter is reproduced on this page (CLICK HERE TO SEE). On asking the reasons for the prohibition; I was told: “The reasons are known to the President.”

A few minutes later, a trendy man was brought in to receive a similar letter. I soon learnt he was my countryman by the name Edmore Chijena, a pastor with Christ Embassy Church Botswana.

We were both told we were to be physically removed from Botswana that day, as soon as the paperwork was completed and from that moment on we couldn’t even visit the bathroom without an escort.

I tried to call several Zimbabwean lawyers practising in Botswana, but could not find them as they had left for Zimbabwe for the Heroes holidays.

Fortunately, Pastor Chijena got hold of his lawyer who, soon after reading Section 6 of the Notice of Determination as a Prohibited Immigrant that came with Khama’s letter, advised us that it would be futile to challenge the order as it was a presidential decree and particularly as Section 6 of the determination stipulated that “no appeal shall lie under any notice that a person is a prohibited immigrant by reason of any declaration by the President under Section 7 (f) and no court shall question the adequacy of the grounds for any such declaration”.

Thereafter our fingerprints and photographs were taken and we were made to fill a stack of forms after which were driven to our respective residences to pack a few personal effects, thrown into the back of a pick-up truck and driven to the border.

The visit to Pastor Chijena’s residence in Block 9 was without incident. However, all hell broke loose when we got to Planet Lodge were I was booked.

There, we found a team of journalists waiting, and they began clicking away as I disembarked from the back of the heavily fortified truck.

I was given five minutes to pack my things, which I duly did with the assistance of an embassy official and another concerned Zimbabwean, Dr George Chingarande, an oncologist at Gaborone Private Hospital.

The journalists were busy clicking away as I emerged from the lobby and continued for effect as a crowd of onlookers jostled for a glimpse.

I was again ordered into the back of the truck, and this time we headed for the university campus were I intended to drop some library books that were in my room. I couldn’t get out of the car on account of the journalists who had trailed us from the lodge, and reports that many others were waiting at my office.

One of the immigration officials offered to return the books. I surrendered them to him along with my office keys.

That bit done, we finally embarked on the 500km journey to the border, which we were told closed at 2100 hours.

We sped along. The time was around 1630 hours. Our protestations for recess along the way fell on deaf ears.

On the way we overtook three 4.5 tonne lorries transporting other Zimbabwean deportees, among them border jumpers.

We arrived at Ramokgwebana Border Post at exactly 2100 hours, a whole hour before closing time.

One of the immigration officials accompanying us took our passports for stamping. When he came back and just when we believed we were finally on our way to Plumtree Border Post — the Zimbabwean side — a police officer sped up in a Land cruiser and informed our escorts that he had received a call from Gaborone, advising him to issue a detention warrant, and we were to accompany him to Tshesebe Police Station.

Our protestations that we be allowed to cross to the Zimbabwean side were brushed off, and we were driven back.

When we got to the police station, we were ordered to remove our shoes and belts and to empty our pockets. Our effects were put in large envelopes and the officers filled in ‘‘prisoner detail’’ forms.

We asked why we were being classified as prisoners when we had not been charged with any crime, but the answer was the same: “The reason is known to the President.”

Why we couldn’t cross that day, when we had been even denied time to visit our banks, the answer: “The reason is known to the President.”

We tried to stand our ground by refusing to enter the cells but a group of policemen soon gathered relishing the prospect of pummelling us into submission and we decided to comply. We were frog-marched to the cells within the complex, and made to share a tiny cell that was pervaded by the smell of excrement and urine emanating from an overflowing, blocked toilet seat in one corner of the cell.

For bedding, there were two dirty mats and a stack of equally dirty stinking blankets in one corner.

We decided to give them a wide berth and spent the night on the cold, hard prison floor, even though our backsides were numb from protracted contact with the hard pick-up floor.

At 6am, the next day, two young officers appeared and handed us brooms to sweep our cell and a neighbouring cell. We declined and told them we were not prisoners but deportees and had no reason to clean cells that we did not want to be in, in the first place.
They retreated, and the doors clanged shut.

We were left alone for the entire morning, without food or water. Our frantic banging on the doors went unnoticed.

After what seemed an eternity, we heard footfalls in the corridors, the sound of a heavy key in the lock and the doors were opened by a burly bloodshot-eyed officer who told us to get out.

It was just after midday.

After getting our personal effects, we were ordered into the truck and driven to the border where we filled in more forms, that the officials said would be used as evidence against us if ever we were to set foot in Botswana again.

My crime? I stood accused — by a country purporting to be a democracy — of supporting the Government of my country and writing ill of the opposition they prefer.

The pastor’s crime? Opposition BNF members attended his church.- The Herald

[Caesar Zvayi is the Herald's former political editor who was deported from Botswana after being added onto the US sanctions list.]