I was only twelve at  the height of the liberation struggle for  Zimbabwe. Killings and maiming had become the order of the day in most rural areas, especially in the Eastern Highlands, boardering with Mozambique as well as in the Southern part of Masvingo, boardering with South Africa. Schools had closed and many homes had been deserted as people migrated to the towns where there was a bit of security. A few people, including my poor family remained in the rural areas. We had nowhere to go in town since we had no relatives there, therefore we remained in the village. Some people were taken by the Selous Scouts into Concentration Camps to block any contact and support with the freedom fighters. We had no choice. we had to stay and stay we did.

That year we tilled the land and planted many crops. The heavens opened up for us and it rained dogs and cats. By Christmas time, the fields were already promising. Maize with thick stalks and deep green colour were seen in the few patches that had been cultivated. Some early planters had started  eating cool cucumbers as well as green mealies. Since I was nolonger going to school, I occupied myself with herding my father's cattle. We never knew when Schools were going to open, or we never knew if they were going to open at all. The Selous scouts had come and ordered the closure of the Schools and took away most of the villagers, including my friends, to Mount Darwin Camp for 'protection' from the 'terrorists', as they claimed. At the Mission Station nearby, two nuns had been killed in unclear circumstances for keeping the school open. None of the two camps accepted responsibility since the freedom fighters came claiming that they were not fighting the 'white skin', but a corrupt and  illegitimate white Government. The Selous Scouts also came and told the people not to associate with the Guerrillas or Freedom Fighter(as they were commonly called) since they were killers who murdered innocent unarmed nuns. Anyway, people chose whom to blame for the massacre. Most, if not all the people concluded that the Selous scouts had killed the Sisters since the Colonial government had great resentment for clerics and Religious for their support for the struggle.

Though I was just a cattle herder, the trouble did not spare me. One sunny,humid morning, I went to the valley to heard my father's cattle. I enjoyed climbing up a tall ant-hill that had grown at the beginning of the rain season. My clothes were all mud as I slid down the wet clay. Suddenly I heard the thundering sounds of aircraft. Two green helocopters shot into view, flying so low that some leaves and loose grass rose to the sky. The cattle became restless and ran helter-skelter in all directions. The two green helicopters landed and half a dozen soldiers lept out and surrounded me at once. They all had guns and  many rounds of amunition around their chests, waists and backs. Some had two guns even! I started shivering. I could not say a word and from their looks, I started reciting the last prayer before my death. Their eyes spoke of nothing but terror and murder. From my catechism, I could remember very well the prayer the late sisters had taught me. In the silence of my pounding heart,I started reciting the short prayer, "Through Mary I go to Jesus..." I was ready to follo the two nuns to heaven.

"Where are the Terrorists?", demanded the leader, a huge man with brown hair and terrifying green eyes. I could get his english very well since I was used to the tone of the Germany Dominican sisters who were teaching us at school. I knew that the Freedom fighters were on a hill on the other side of the valley waiting. They had passed and told me that if anyone asked for them I was to direct him to that hill, so with a trembling finger, I quickly pointed to the hill that was seen from the valley. "Are you sure you son of a baboon and monkey? If you lie to us we will come back and shoot you and all your cattle." barked the leader again. I quickly nodded my heard in confirmation of the information I had just given. They quickly turned to the helicopters and I made a deep sigh of relief. I thought I had been spared but I was wrong. One of the white soldiers turned and gave me a hard clap on the left cheek which made me see a galaxy of stars in broad daylight. My ear started ringing like a telephone. That very moment I felt some warm liquid running down my thighs. I knew that had failed to contol my bladder. Thank God I managed to control my bowels.

The cattle were still running in all directions. The leader fired into part of  the herd that was nearby, looking at them in fear of the sound of the helicopters since the propellers were turning swiftly above them.  My favourite bull fell dow as it bellowed with pain. The other heifers ran for their lives into the reeds that grew along the river that cut through the valley. The Helocpter took off and it sped off towards the east then came back and started hovering around the hill like an eagle mounting for chickens. I  watched as my bull kicked its last. Suddenly, my attention was diverted from my dying bull to the bursting of something. I could hear gun-shots also from the hill. When I turned I saw the helocopter busting into flames and Plunging itself into the valley. I knew that the Guerrilas had shot it. I had mixed feeling. I did not know whether  I was supposed to rejoice or cry. Breathlessly, I ran home to break the news.