Zimbabwe’s security forces did not take long to conclude that Itai Dzamara’s civil disobedience campaign was a threat to president Robert Mugabe’s government if left unchecked.
The journalist's movement, Occupy Africa Unity Square, began last September as a peaceful one-man protest in Harare calling for Mugabe to resign. In November he was arrested and assaulted by police after delivering a petition to the president's office outlining his case for regime change.
On March 9th, six months after he had begun his pro-democracy activities, Dzamara (35) was abducted near his home by suspected security agents; he has not been heard from since.
A spokesman for Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights, Kumbirai Mafunda, says it is feared the government's central intelligence officers or the police were behind the abduction. While the organisation hopes for Dzamara's reappearance, it anticipates the worst.
“At the start, his campaign consisted of just sitting and silently protesting against the bad governance,” Mafunda says. “It was peaceful and a part of a civil disobedience approach to affecting change, which included the unfurling of banners and placards airing grievances.”
Time to agitate
Mafunda says Dzamara had heard enough grievances about government through his job as editor of the
News Leader
newspaper, and had come to the conclusion that it was time to agitate for regime change.
“After the July 2013 elections, everyone here was bewildered by the outcome,” he said. Mugabe’s Zanu-PF party was victorious, but accusations emerged again that it had rigged the election. Dzamara “elected not to remain silent, but to challenge Mugabe’s regime through action”.
Africa Unity Square, a public space in the heart of Harare about the size of two football pitches, is an enticing place for people to gather, as trees offer shade from the baking sun during the day.
Only a stone’s throw from parliament, Mugabe’s offices and the constitutional court, it is easy to understand why Dzamara would have chosen it as a central base from which to launch his defiance campaign: it is close to the masses as well as the politicians.
Mafunda believes his old friend wanted to use the square as a central point around which to build a mass movement he could take to the streets. Prior to his disappearance, Dzamara was drawing people to him with increasing frequency.
By November, Dzamara had enticed more than 150 people to join him daily at the leafy open area. His campaign was also receiving support on social media platforms; the group’s Facebook page attracted more than 6,000 likes.
“He took a petition to Mugabe’s offices outlining his wishes that month,” says Mafunda, “and people in government started to notice him. They were thinking, what is he trying to do? He must be a threat.”
Towards the end of November, Dzamara and his lawyer were hospitalised after police assaulted them in public. By late January the activist had overcome his injuries and was back in the square looking to continue where he left off.
Everything changed on March 9th, after he visited a barber shop near his home in Glen View, a high-density settlement on the outskirts of the capital.
Singled out
“A group of six men entered the barbers and asked the owner who here was Itai,” says Mafunda. “He was singled out and they said he was being taken away on charges of cattle stock theft and that was the last anyone heard from him.”
Zimbabwean Lawyers for Human Rights filed a high court application seeking that whoever held Dzamara be compelled to bring him before the courts to answer the charges made against him, which was granted. But the security forces have yet to comply, insisting they do not know where he is.
“We also called on the police to investigate his disappearance,” says Mafunda, “but basically they have not co-operated . . . the issue of his disappearance has been white-washed.”
Saturday: The Irish in Zimbabwe, Weekend Review
