Susan Tsvangirai would be pleased

The Times UK
By Georgina Godwin
Sunday, 15 MARCH 2009

Susan Tsvangirai would have been surprised by the impact her death has had on this country. The unifying effect and the sense of hope to come out of this awful tragedy would, I am sure, have pleased her.

In Zimbabwe, when someone dies a mourning vigil is held at their home. Traditionally, friends and relatives gather at the family home as soon as possible until after the burial. Therefore, on Monday, along with hundreds of others, I made my way to the suburban Harare home of the Tsvangirais to pay my respects to my friend Susan.

From a mile away cars were abandoned along the potholed roads and the sound of drumming drifted through the early evening. There was a group of women in red-and-white Methodist church uniforms standing at the gate singing Tichasangana kudenga, neropa raJesu. Sung to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, the hymn translates: “We will meet again in Heaven, Through the Blood of Jesus.”

I took a seat in the queue waiting to enter a room where I believed we would contribute to the condolence book. In front of me was Stan Mudenge, the Zanu (PF) Minister of Higher Education. On the opposite side, both physically and politically, was a representative from ZUM, the Zimbabwe Unity Movement that Mr Mugabe effectively crushed in the 1990s.

I entered the darkened room and found the Prime Minister there, dressed in a dark suit. Selfishly my own grief took over and I wept as he hugged and comforted me. “There is nothing to be done,” he said. “What can you do?”

I recalled my work with Susan, before my political broadcasts made me an undesirable in Zimbabwe, and her trip to London in 2002 when we had believed she would be First Lady soon. By the time I left him, darkness, always swift in Africa, had fallen and the garden was alive with cooking fires.

David Coltart, the MDC Minister of Education, called me over to meet his colleague, Herbert Murerwa. Mr Murerwa is the Zanu (PF) Minister of Lands and a man I have been very vocal in criticising publicly. As we were introduced, he told me: “I hear what you say and I see what you do.” Sinister at any other time, his words seemed oddly benign in an atmosphere of real unity. I don’t believe the Zanu (PF) presence was cynical. I, perhaps naively, think that they joined in this intimate part of the occasion in a spirit of genuine grief and togetherness.

Susan was an unassuming and gracious lady who possibly had no idea how much her work with the poor and sick achieved. Susan’s contribution to the nation in life was great. In death it may be greater still – genuinely bringing true unity to the Zimbabwean people.