Go well, mother of our struggle!

TRAGIC: The late Susan Tsvangirai

• United States disowns Tsvangirai crash driver, car

• Susan Tsvangirai is laid to rest

• Could seat belt have saved Susan Tsvangirai?

• Mugabe says crash was 'hand of God'

• On his birthday, Tsvangirai makes final farewell to tragic wife

• MP wants US aid agency probed over Tsvangirai crash

• Tsvangirai says crash an accident, rules out foul play

• Orbituary: The life of Susan Tsvangirai

• Online: Prime Minister's Website

By Luke Tamborinyoka
Posted to the web: 13/03/2009 11:23:44
AT 1521hrs on March 12, 2009, the brown ornate casket was slowly lowered into the rich loamy soils near the Tsvangirai homestead at Humanikwa village in Buhera in Manicaland province, 220 kilometres south east of Harare.

As the yawning grave sucked her coffin, several voices around the red mound of earth could be heard crying in a soft roaring diminuendo, their minds and hearts certain that never again would they ever see that great smile.

Yes. The famous infectious smile that had exuded charm and love to everyone over the years; from family members to wives of detained party activists, from diplomats to fellow church members at the Methodist Church in Mebelreign; from MDC activists to politicians who regularly visit the Tsvangirai family home at Number 2 Lyndhurst Lane in the middle-density suburb of Strathaven in Harare.

MDC President and Zimbabwe’s Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai stood unemotional as he watched his wife being lowered to her final resting place; no doubt latent emotions battling for space in his mind as he savoured the tortuous 31 years they had stayed together as husband and wife.

It was an emotional fairy story that had started when the two met on that fateful Wednesday afternoon in February 1976 at Trojan Mine in Bindura when President Tsvangirai was a simple miner. A journey that had ended at around 4pm on Friday, March 6, 2009, when she died in a fatal crash 96 hours away from her husband’s 57th birthday.

The crash took place along the Harare-Masvingo highway when the two and their driver and an aide were on their way to their rural home in Buhera. It was going to be the first time they would arrive at their rural village with the husband laden with the venerable title of “Prime Minister of Zimbabwe.”

But then fate is capricious!

Their 31-year marriage was a tortuous journey that had survived assassination attempts; trumped-up treason charges; brutal assaults, midnight raids on the family home and arbitrary arrests. This frightening life had been the life of the man she loved and respected. Any weakling would have packed their bags and left for their mother’s home.

But not Susan Tsvangirai, a woman of great strength and fortitude. Like the legendary movie, The Titanic, theirs is a story of unbridled and undying love in the face of disaster.

That is the story of Susan Nyaradzo Tsvangirai, the mother of our struggle who was the closest confidante of the man who has become the hero of his generation and his country; a man who in 10 years led a young party to victory against one of Africa’s most entrenched dictatorships.

I first met Susan Tsvangirai in 1999 when I would visit the home as a young political reporter at the banned Daily News to interview her husband who was then transforming from being a trade unionist to being leader of the MDC.

Always courteous and personally serving visitors with food, she had not changed when I joined the MDC’s Information Department in October 2005. When my colleagues and I were arrested and spent three months in prison on trumped-up charges of terrorism and banditry in March 2007, she would regularly call our wives to her Strathaven home to console them and give them her personal food and money to look after us and our families.

She had even arranged with a group of pastors to counsel and give our wives spiritual strength and hope during our three months stint in the belly of the beast.

The diversity of the crowd at her funeral and at her burial told its own story of abundant love. Her death had touched everyone. They came from all corners of the world and the country to pay their last respects. They came in buses and cars, in trucks, on foot and on bicycles from Msampakaruma to Mandidzudzure; from Kazungula to Tamandayi to pay their last respects to this great woman.

Some came from Mudzi, from Hwange, from Chipinge, from Tsholotsho and from as far afield as Siachilaba in Binga. They all came to mourn this great woman.

Condolence messages poured from family members, from the South African government; from Botswana, from the European Union, from Tanzania, Malawi, Lesotho and Zambia.

Even Zanu PF politicians joined the family and the party in this moment of grief; President Robert Mugabe and several government ministers had all attended the church service in Mabelreign.

When sungura music maestro Tongai Moyo arrived to a tumultuous welcome to pay his last respects in Buhera; it dawned on me that her death had shaken the entire rubric of the Zimbabwean society-and beyond.

Susan Tsvangirai was a humble woman, a true African mother who would show you love and affection. Her love outlived Ferragamo shoes and the extravagant tastes of those who think because their husbands wield political power, the world owed them a living. Her love was greater than mansions and grabbed lush-green farms. She was the embodiment of true love and humility that permeate the ordinary human spirit.

She suffered multiple injuries and broken legs in the fatal crash. Her bruised and injured body was ferried for burial to Buhera on Wednesday, March 11, 2009, exactly two years after her husband was brutally bruised and injured by the forces of darkness on March 11, 2007.

History will tell whether it's just a coincidence!

Go well, mother of our struggle.

Luke Tamborinyoka is the Director of Information and Publicity in the MDC formation led by Morgan Tsvangirai. Email him: mhoful@yahoo.co.uk
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