Zimbabwe Human Rights NGO Forum: Report on violence against peaceful protestors in Harare He said that we should beware of ZANU (PF) supporters who might be disguised wearing MDC T-shirts. We were also urged to keep the march peaceful. He said other things, but I could not hear more than this. Very soon after that a court order arrived giving us permission to march. Almost simultaneously as this arrived, so did a crowd of people – about 100-200 or so I would guess, all black that I saw. They turned in from 2nd Street into Central Ave. The riot police were sandwiched between the newly arriving crowd and our group. The riot police moved to the sides to avoid being hemmed in by crowds to their back and front. Then the march began, setting off down 2nd Street, with the riot police walking alongside the marchers. I was with a group of three other white women and two children. The crowd grew as we progressed, with people waving and giving MDC waves from office windows and construction sites. It was a real carnival atmosphere. We went into Nelson Mandela and walked towards First Street, and the crowd seemed to be growing all the time. Many people on the pavement waved and cheered us as we went by. At First Street and Nelson Mandela a bus load of supporters arrived and joined the march, singing and waving. At this point it seemed to me that the march had the feeling of a post election victory march. ZANU (PF) was history and MDC were now in power. We proceeded down Nelson Mandela Ave. to Leopold Takawira, where we passed by the commuter omnibus station near CIMAS. More cheers and waves of support. Motorists, who had to stop, hooted their support. At about this point a man whom I think on reflection was a ZANU (PF) supporter came up to me and walked alongside me. He was shouting things in Shona about the war vets and Mugabe that the people on the pavement seemed to find amusing. He said he was a welder, but when I asked what NEC grade he had he seemed not to be very sure. He seemed to appear by my side at various intervals during the march, despite the large crowd. We then turned and walked up Leopold Takawira Street and into Samora Machel Avenue, walking towards First Street. The crowd was huge by this time, and easily filled a block long stretch of road. At this point I spoke to two riot police who were walking along side the crowd. They asked me if I was happy about the march, and I replied that it was important for people to express the way they felt. I said that this was a march for peace in our country and that peace was very much needed and that was why I had come. I also said that peace was about making friends – and this meant with the police as well as the marchers. We agreed that they had a tough job to do, and I wished them well and I moved off. The march had been going on for about an hour at this stage. There was a good feeling amongst the crowd, e.g. people of all races were talking with other marchers, I saw one of the nuns from the Convent giving a high five to a commuter omnibus driver, and there was a white man in a wheel chair being pushed along as part of the march. We turned into First Street and stopped at the corner of Union Ave. I could not make out what was happening as I was at the back of the crowd on the east side of the intersection. After a few minutes, word came that ZANU (PF) supporters were coming up Union Ave. from the Angwa Street side. I said to my friends that I thought it would be good to leave now. As we turned to go, the crowd started running. I ran up Union Ave. towards Second Street, but spotted a blind beggar with a guitar. Knowing he would be caught up in the violence and not be able to see, I grabbed him by the hand and said “Madala you have got to run. Come”. I went a short distance, but by Truworths entrance the ZANU (PF) supporters caught up with us. They were dressed in civilian clothes and were carrying truncheons and branches. I also saw rocks being thrown from the direction of the ZANU (PF) supporters. As I reached the Truworths doorway they (maybe two? Maybe more?) started beating me and kicking me. They grabbed the old man’s guitar from my hand and smashed it. They continued to hit me with truncheons. The look of hate on the face of one of the men who hit and kicked me was one of pure hatred. He said something about looking for MDC supporters. I shielded myself as best I could, but was hit on my arms and head, and kicked on my thigh. I did not see what happened to the old man, but my friends told me later that he was OK. I managed to squeeze myself amongst some other people (all black, maybe - 21 -