social commentary:with Kennedy Nyavaya
The sight of policemen in their service uniform invokes bitter feelings — somewhere between fear and disgust — for Ntombizodwa Mpofu, a resident of Cowdray Park in Bulawayo.
Before April 16 this year, when she and her sister Nokuthula were brutally beaten to a pulp by on-duty members of the force for “unnecessary movement”, the 30-year-old had ordinarily felt safe in the presence of law enforcers.
“It’s painful and my heart is broken because this is not something I thought custodians of the law could do especially in broad daylight,” Ntombizodwa told The Standard.
In a video shot by Cite ZW, the two narrated an anguishing tale of how a shopping trip ended with two male officers thrashing them with batons and bare hands under the guise of enforcing lockdown regulations.
“I recall the events of that day vividly and the memories have not left to the point that I hardly sleep or eat,” revealed the mother of four.
“I was beaten at midday with people watching and I still cannot stand crowds. I just want to scream sometimes.”
In addition to the beating, an overnight sleep in police custody as well as $200 fines apiece, the two will have to live with the distress of torture for a charge only classified to them as “unnecessary movement”.
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Law experts say had the matter been handled by the book, the two sisters should have received caution at least or paid a fine in a worst-case scenario. Instead they are nursing wounds and psychological trauma amid allegations they were specifically targeted for other reasons, among them gender.
While the case is still under official investigation, the Mpofu siblings made shocking revelations about how, during the torture, male tormentors mentioned how their womanly body parts did not make them any special.
“They kept insulting us, accusing us of being rude and they pointed at my hips and my younger sister’s small waist saying we think they are amazing yet their wives were far more beautiful than us,” recalled Nokuthula.
This is one of the gruesome stories adding to the fast rising number of women subjected to abuse during the coronavirus-induced lockdown set by government on March 31.
Musasa Project, an organisation that works on peace building and provision of services to survivors of gender-based violence (GBV), has recorded an upsurge in abuse cases, more than the usual average of 500, targeted at women and girls over the past weeks under the countrywide stay at home regulations.
“We have put in place online services and have seen that more people are using the platforms to reach out to us either to report or access counselling services,” said Rotina Mafume, the organisation’s advocacy officer, adding, however, that they were yet to receive reports implicating the police or other uniformed forces.
“As of now, we have not received any reports involving members of the security sector, but what we are saying is no to any form of abuse towards women and girls.”
Notwithstanding that anyone can be a victim of GBV, it is generally more pronounced for women and children, particularly the girl child, with increases during periods of abnormal social circumstances like outbreaks.
In Zimbabwe, the rising cases implicating state security agents is not only adding to the vulnerable populations’ worries, but also gives perpetrators at household level a sense of immunity.
In a statement reacting to the reported abduction and harassment of three female MDC Alliance activists by suspected state agents, the Zimbabwe Heads of Christian Denominations (ZHOCD) condemned the medieval actions attributed to the security sector.
“We have realised that one of the major effects of the Covid-19 lockdown has been the worrying increase in domestic violence, especially against women and children. It is unthinkable that such domestic violence could be replicated even in more severe proportions with state sanction,” read the statement.
Bedridden at a local private hospital, Joana Mamombe (Harare West MP), Netsai Marova and Cecilia Chimbiri narrated an ordeal fit for a horror movie scenes.
“They were putting it [a gun] inside my anal passage and then the other guy was sucking my breasts, they were beating me while they were telling Joana and Netsai to sing,” said Chimbiri with tears streaming down her swollen cheeks.
Shockingly, some sections of social media, especially those aligned to the ruling Zanu PF party, have trivialised the trio’s stories as fake or choreographed stunts.
But, despite the mysterious identities of the assailants, their stories are similar to what comedian Samantha “Gonyeti” Kureya reportedly endured last year for making jokes about government or a series of rape reports pointing at the uniformed forces during last year’s January fuel protest clampdown.
This leaves the question: Why have women become a persistent target?
According to Namatai Kwekeza, a women’s rights activist, poking fun or excessively doubting the veracity of victims’ stories is the reason why most victims choose to remain silent, fuelling the prevalence of abuse.
“Our society is brutal to victims of abuse and there is a lot of victim-shaming, which in itself is abuse, therefore, to a significant magnitude a lot of cases are not being reported and victims do not pursue justice,” said Kwekweza.
Countless unconvincing investigations leading to dead ends also form a barricade to accountability, meaning known and unknown culprits continue to enjoy freedom while the abused suffer, says Kwekeza.
“It only makes it worse when the systems put in place to protect women from abuse become perpetrators of the abuse that we seek to abolish and when other women see this happening it’s a clear message of the lack of protection,” she said.
Meanwhile, the whole world has registered a spike in GBV issues since the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic, according to the United Nations, with most women and girls hindered from accessing legal and medical help due to lockdowns.
For Ntombizodwa, who has had to relocate her children to deal with the trauma alone, women like her are walking targets susceptible to attack from powerful men without consequence.
“It sometimes feels like I made a mistake by reporting because of how slow the case is being handled. The incident happened over a month ago, but I am still to see justice being served,” she said.
Regardless of who the perpetrators are, she feels that the snail’s pace to justice confirms the compromising of her safety; after all, if a female lawmaker and well known politicians are not safe, then what about her?
“I do not feel secure around them [police] anymore and I do not think I would report anything to them because they hate us, and instead of solving the problem they could worsen it,” she said.
