The Sunday News
Jacqueline Gwemende, ZBC Midlands Bureau Chief
MY first encounter with Cde Cephas George Msipa was in 2009. I had just been transferred from Bulawayo to Gweru as the ZBC News Midlands Bureau Chief. I was not new to the city as I did my secondary education at Fletcher High — but this was a totally different environment for me loaded with lots of responsibilities and tasks.
Being a Bureau Chief meant meeting and handling the who is who in business, politics and society. Without much experience, the task ahead looked heavy and arduous with unpredictable outcomes. But it did not take long for my nerves to be calmed. It took the visit by the the man I later came to know simply as Khulu.
I was in my office when through the glass door I saw Cde Cephas Msipa strolling towards my office. I went into panic mode and started putting some order on my desk and office. By the time he knocked on my door, he probably saw only my body on the chair as my mind was all over the place. Why had he come to my office? Had I done something wrong already? Had I breached protocol during my few days as the Bureau Chief?
It, however, did not take long before my nerves were calmed. He had an infectious smile. “So you are the new reporter hii, for a long time we had no reporter in this province, why?” he said with his warm smile.
I cannot remember what I said but I mumbled something. He continued asking me questions about myself, which college I had trained as a journalist, my rural home, among others. When I told him I came from Lower Gweru he smiled and told me his dear wife Charlotte Msipa (May her dear soul rest in peace) was also from Lower Gweru’s Insukamini suburb.
We chatted for some minutes and I was now at ease and when he told me he was leaving as he had come just to see the new ZBC reporter, I walked him to his car where he gave me carrots, cabbages and a crate of eggs. I thanked him and returned to my office. What I didn’t know on that day was that with that encounter I had struck a friendship with a man whose character I cannot fully explain and whose story I will never be able to give full justice to.
To say I am the person qualified to write about the National Hero Cde Cephas Msipa would be unfair. There is a huge gulf of difference between me and the late Cde Msipa in age (almost half a century age gap), experience and achievements.
Though he was no longer the Governor for Midlands Province, Cde Msipa was always invited to officiate at various events and he would give me a ring to provide media coverage. We would travel in his vehicle and it was during such times when I got to know much about the gallant son of the soil. He would talk about his youth, his children, wife (Khulu loved Gogo Charlotte to the grave) and grandchildren.
It was also during these interactions with Khulu that I got a glimpse of his closeness to President Mugabe. Though many including the media tried to paint a picture that Cde Msipa and President Mugabe had strained relations, the two’s friendship was only separated by death.
President Mugabe had a soft spot for his “Sekuru Madyirapadye” and in President Mugabe’s own words, Msipa was frank and never shied away from speaking his mind. In 2005 when Cde Msipa was still Governor for the Midlands Province he said he disagreed with President Mugabe on Operation Murambatsvina. He had a long meeting with Anna Kajumulo Tibaijuka and according to him, the meeting was misinterpreted by many. He confided that he fought ferociously such that in the Midlands the operation was halted before it even started. He then initiated one of the successful Garikai/Hlalani Kuhle housing projects and he gave land to private developers.
I remember an incident when Cde Msipa fell ill and was admitted to Midlands Private Hospital before being transferred to Bulawayo for medical tests. On his way back, the ambulance had mechanical problems. We waited at the hospital until around 8pm when the ambulance finally arrived. I was with Fiso his nephew and his daughter-in-law. He was surprised to see us waiting for him at the hospital.
The following morning I received a phone call from him saying he was being flown to Harare. President Mugabe had received information that Cde Msipa was not well and his eldest son Douglas had accompanied him to Bulawayo for some medical tests. An Air Force helicopter airlifted him to Harare for treatment. Cde Msipa’s eldest son revealed to his father that he had received a tongue lashing from the President for not telling him that “Sekuru Madyirapazhe” was not well.
During the 2013 elections Cde Msipa phoned the President congratulating him for winning the election resoundingly. He phoned other senior Government officials and when he was telling them that he had already congratulated the President they were surprised as most of them didn’t have his number, including the most senior ones.
Cde Msipa first met President Mugabe in the then Shabani in the 1950s. They were to meet again in Harare when Cde Mugabe returned from Ghana in the early 1960s. They stayed together in Highfield with another friend Peter Kutama.
And Cde Msipa’s brother Obert would prepare meals for them. Out of great respect, Cde Msipa moved out of his bedroom and started sharing with Peter to make way for Cde Mugabe who was their visitor from Ghana. It was during their stay together that their bond grew.
There was one incident that when related to me left me laughing my lungs out. When Cde Msipa bought his first car without any driving experience he took his new car and went to show off to nurses at Harare Hospital. The President was not happy when he returned for lunch and found out that his sekuru who had no driving experience had gone to Gomo Hospital.
President Mugabe followed him to Harare Hospital and rebuked his sekuru for driving without a licence.
Cde Msipa’s last visit to State House was a day after his birthday in Harare. He later remarked “I was happy and I said I don’t want anything to happen to our relationship with my muzukuru until the end.”
A few weeks before his death he wanted us to visit one of his son’s companies in Gweru, but this was never to be. Cde Msipa was loved and respected by many people including corporate organisations. His scholarship programme was a success due to his cordial relations with giant mines Mimosa and Unki.
When I went to visit him he asked his nephew Fiso to bring the blanket. It was a big grey mink blanket. He laughed about the size of the blanket and how he thought it was going to suffocate him.
Khulu and his blankets . . . there were stories of course. Just the previous winter, he had been complaining that every morning he would wake up feeling weak and he didn’t know the reason. We visited him with Mrs Chitiyo-Moyo and the then Chronicle Bureau Chief Kama Phiri. His bedroom was upstairs and since he was weak we all had to go to his bedroom. I noticed that he had an electrical blanket and I suspected that could be the source of his weakness. We came up with the idea that he should switch on his blanket earlier then switch it off before retiring to bed. Somehow, it worked and the problem disappeared.
One time I went to his home and found him taking a nap and I left thinking that I should allow him to rest. But he didn’t like it at all, he would give Mai Shereni his house help who has worked for him since 1982 and Fiso his nephew a torrid time for allowing me to go without telling him.
Later when I would visit him only to find him asleep, Mai Shereni would insist that he does not want trouble and she would go and wake him up and we would chat for hours. Even his secretary Tsitsi would pass on the message and insist that “you should come now because we don’t want to get in trouble”.
The last time I heard from him was when he was sick and he phoned me saying he had been transferred to Harare. The next time, it was the news that he was no more.
The place where he was to be buried has always been topical. One afternoon he said to me you know I’m going to be buried next to my wife. I laughed and told him to tell that to his muzukuru (The President). He asked me why and I told him he would not accept that he be buried at the provincial shrine. He laughed and just said “Ho nhai, you think so?”
So when there were issues about where he was going to be buried I smiled and wished I could tell him to his face, “Khulu, I told you so”. I know he would have responded with that almost permanent charming smile. Sadly, the man and his smile are no more. Gone with the wind, taken by the Creator along that path we will all tread along. Goodbye Khulu, you fought a good fight.
