There and back again – Zimbabwe’s porous border

For Alexander* the topic of finding work in his home country brings a smile to his face. This is not because it is a humorous topic, it is just the improbability of finding employment in Zimbabwe’s rapidly downward spiralling economy makes the question absurd to him.

Alexander is one of the many legal migrant workers who make their way through the border-post between Zimbabwe and South Africa every day. He works in a clothing shop in Musina, a dusty town a few kilometres on the South African side of the border. Alexander constantly travels to and fro across the border using taxis. Working during the day and drinking at Musina bars in the evening before returning to his house in Zimbabwe.

Migrant workers have been coming to South Africa for decades, far longer than the border fence has existed. Alexander says his grandfather used to walk and hitchhike to Johannesburg back in the fifties. “In those days there wasn’t even a fence. He just walked straight across.”

What has changed in the last few months is the number of immigrants, legal and illegal, coming across the border. Last year there were 80 000 Zimbabweans deported back across the border, while in the last six months of this year there have already been over 100 000 deportees.

The cause of this drastic increase lies in Zimbabwe’s collapsing economy. The current inflation rate is over 6,500% and many basic commodities are out of reach for citizens. Shop owners in Musina have always had a steady stream of business from Zimbabweans coming over the border. Since April this year they have reported record profits due to the increased need for basics like bread and milk.

For Alexander, this is just a natural progression of a country marching to its own tune for too many years.

“[The situation in Zimbabwe} is very bad. The problem is inflation, which goes higher every day. The charges for basic commodities keep increasing. Often there are whole days without electricity. There has been practically no fuel for seven years.”

Despite the current economic meltdown, Alexander still has much pride in his country. He is quick to point out Zimbabwe’s 90% literacy level, the product of an education system superior to South Africa’s.

“There are good people there; they are just facing a hopeless situation.”

Most teachers in Zimbabwe earn less than Zim$3 million per month, which is far below the poverty line and barely enough to buy 10 litres of fuel at the current black market prices. With many teachers leaving the country for greener pastures in England and other countries, it is likely the high standard of education will decline.

Alexander is proud of Zimbabwe’s former economic strength. He recalls that the Zimbabwean dollar was of equal strength to the pound at one stage, much stronger than the rand. This statement is repeated more than once, peppered throughout his comments on his home country.

Many of the economic migrants coming through Musina refuse to discuss the political situation. The only comment Alexander will make is that Zanu-PF and the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) should put their differences aside so that economic reinvestment can occur.

Alexander’s voice tightens as he speaks about a subject obviously close to his heart. “There is no industry. How can there be any industry when there is no electricity. People don’t want a hand-out, they just want to find work so they can have self-respect and care for their families. They just want to do honest work.”

He continues in this vein, “My brothers have finished their A-levels but they cannot get into university. They are sitting at home instead of getting an education. The future is bleak for them and they desperately want to get into South Africa.”

Alexander stops talking after he mentions his brothers. He seems lost in thought.

“It’s very difficult for an ordinary person to get through [the border]. There’s almost no chance unless you know someone in the embassy or pay a big bribe.”

The border fence between South Africa and Zimbabwe stretches along the Northern Limpopo border. At first glance it is an intimidating sight – a two metre high fence with three bundled rolls of barbed wire at its base, followed by a five metre stretch of ground which resembles a miniature wasteland. A rusted fence is the final barrier to potential border crossers.

To get through this fence people have to transverse the Limpopo river and make their way through the bush. They stretch the base of the barbed wire using branches to create a space a man just might be able to crawl through on his belly, pulling his limbs towards him as if he were squeezing through a cave. Then they must leap over or wrench apart the last fence standing between them and South Africa.

Although he has never been forced to make the infernal gallop that is an illegal crossing from Zimbabwe to South Africa, Alexander has his own memories of the border fence and the river that runs parallel to it.

“[The Limpopo] river finishes people during the rainy season. [Last year] I walked along the river and I saw a good pair of children’s shoes just washed up on the bank. There are no bodies, those are just washed away. The people that help them cross just show them the river and say there is South Africa.”

“The people” whom Alexander refers to are the Gumba-Gumba gangs. They charge a fortune to guide people from Zimbabwe to South Africa, up to a R1000 per person. Some of these gangs will help immigrants get through home affairs in South Africa more efficiently. Others will steal all of their clients’ possessions and abandon them close to the South African border.

Jericho* started travelling between Zimbabwe and South Africa five years ago. He works as a gardener in Johannesburg and returns to his young family several times a year. During a recent crossing, several months ago, Jericho was robbed and beaten by a Gumba-Gumba gang. Jericho originally agreed to talk about his experience but later relented. A text message from him gave a small indication of what he had suffered, “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about those experiences yet, they are just too painful.”

Samson* and his cousin have just crossed the border fence, they have come to South Africa to find work so they can feed their family back in Zimbabwe. Their journey has been hard. They have been walking for three days, sleeping only a few hours each night.

They walk just on the inside of a farm perimeter which flanks the road that runs along the border They duck behind bushes at the smallest echo of a car coming up the road. They still have a long way to go, but their journey is made just a little easier when they reach the fence and realize they do not have to get through the barbed wire. This is because they were able to stroll through one of the border gates, spanning the fence every few kilometres, which stood wide open.

There is nothing temporary about the Zimbabwean immigrants coming across the border according to Tara Polzer from the Forced Migration Studies Programme at Witwatersrand University in Johannesburg. There has been a marked increase in Zimbabwean political asylum seekers and economic migrants coming to the country. If the country stabilizes politically, the asylum seekers might return home, but it is unlikely most of the migrants will follow them. Many of them have been working on the farms for many years and have a cordial relationship with the farmers.

Zimbabwean workers travelling to regular farm employment are possibly the reason Samson and his cousin had such an easy passage through the border fence.

“Movement across the border is not all chaos…there are long-standing connections across the border. Many farmers employ Zimbabwean workers who live just across the river and come to work everyday. It’s not like farmers are saying: ‘Come here illegal Zimbabwean, I’m going to be really nice to you and open the gate for you. [People coming across the border] is just how the economy works up here,” explains Polzer.

Not all farmers treat Zimbabweans decently. Alexander has an alternative view on why the gate is open, “The farmers open the gates to allow migrants to come through. They employ them on the farms and then when it comes time to pay them they are deported back across the border so they don’t have to pay them.”

Polzer confirms this practice does occur but she is careful to contextualize it, “There have been lots of stories, for a long time about farmers hiring people and then not paying them at the end of the month. It happens with Mozambicans and Zimbabweans in the Limpopo and Mpumalanga province. I don’t think that it is the rule but it definitely does happen from time to time…It’s not always clear whether the farmer calls them. Some people might do it but they wouldn’t want to do it too often or nobody is going to come and work for them.”

Zimbabwe’s rapid inflation and tense political situation dominated the recent Southern African Development Community [SADC] summit in Lusaka. Although an economic rescue package was put forward it has been roundly criticized as unrealistic and unsupportable. Even if the economic bail out was feasible there were no attempt to use the loan as a means to political reform. At his entrance to the summit Robert Mugabe, president of Zimbabwe, received a standing ovation from the African leaders.

Forthcoming elections in Zimbabwe are unlikely to make any difference to the status quo. Mugabe will not live forever his but his legacy means that it will be years before Zimbabwe has a stable economy again. The MDC has stated it will support a constitutional amendment which allows Mugabe to handpick his successor. Whatever occurs in the 2008 elections the stampede of legal and illegal migrant workers into South Africa is unlikely to cease.

To cope with increasing numbers of migrant workers and refugees Polzer recommends a general strengthening of emergency services. “Just the normal systems, not a special system towards Zimbabwe. Once those systems work well they can be used in a situation like this, but they will also benefit South Africans.”

For Polzer there is a need to look at Zimbabwe as a regional problem. “We need a regional response which is about access to the standard basic services to supply basic needs…it has to be about integrating people who are already part of the economy, a part of the region.”

“We need to be thinking long term. Zimbabwe is always going to be our neighbour.”

*Pseudonyms have been used for Alexander, Samson and Jericho

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The long road from Rwanda

Verdaste Nzayabino has more grey in his hair, and is older than the most of his fellow students at the Witwatersrand University in Johannesburg. But this is not the main difference between him and them. What really sets him apart is how far and hard he has had to travel just to resume his studies.

Nzayabino originally comes from Rwanda. He, and many others, left the country in 1994 to escape a conflict which claimed almost a million lives in a single month. He settled in Kenya, but just five years later he was forced to flee again, this time to South Africa. This second journey was far more difficult than the first, this time he had a wife and 10-month-old baby to worry about.

Today Nyzayabino has made a new life for himself and his family. He is in his second year of a Masters course in Forced Migration Studies, a subject which is more than just theory for him. Despite a sprinkling of grey around his temples, he carries his 41 years lightly. It took a month for Nzayabino and his wife to travel from Kenya to South Africa.

They had no official documents and a very young child to care for, yet they made it here unscathed. Nzayabino does not think they were just lucky, he unequivocally credits God for watching over them and keeping them safe. This deep and abiding faith and a smile which never hides for too long are the two most striking features about him.

13 years ago, the relationship between the Tsutsi and Hutu tribes in Rwanda was ere as high stretched past breaking point. There had been a history of minor conflicts between them for many years. Their antagonistic relationship was not helped by Belgian colonialists who placed a Tsutsi elite minority in charge of the Hutu majority.

When Rwanda gained Independence in 1961, April 6th 1994 a plane carrying Rwandan President Habyarimana and President Ntaryamira of Burundi was shot down, killing both men when the plane crashed. The Hutu government responded with the mass slaughter of of Tsutsi’s and some moderate Hutu’s. By the time it was over, less then two months from the start,

13 years ago, Nzayabino was a lecturer at the University of Rwanda in Butari, the second largest city in the country. He simply wanted to keep his head down and avoid the conflict. It was only when bombs began to fall close to the university that he decided things were getting too dangerous. In June, as the killings hit the peak, Nzayabino left the country with a large group of university staff.

He took practically nothing with him, luggage space was limited and he still thought he would be back after a short time. “Bags were very restricted. What was important was for the people to flee…I left almost everything. I just had a few things in my hands including a mattress. I locked my house and I left. I was not expecting the excursion to take long.”

A few people split off in the Democratic Republic of the Congo while the rest of the convoy made its way into Tanzania. The people who were driving in the convoy were regular travellers and they took care of any business when crossing borders. Nzayabino didn’t have to worry about anything. He remembers the mood was quite relaxed, “Sometimes when you travel in a group of people you feel like the danger is far away.”

They continued going until they finally reached Kenya, the last stop for most people. The businessman who organised the convoy did a lot of business through Kenya and so many of the drivers were familiar with it. Nzayabino had no previous connection to the country, but he felt it was the only place he could stay. There were at least a few friends there who had come down on the convoy with him.

When Nzayabino left Rwanda he probably didn’t realise he might never see his parents or siblings again. He has not seen them in person since 1994 and has only recently been able to even get into telephone contact with them. He does not say much more about them except that some of his brothers and sisters have died in the last fifteen years. He concludes, “But I still have few.” It is hard to tell if he is being ironic.

He now had to try to build a life in for himself in Kenya. The first problem was finding work. He arrived in Kenya in November but was able to find employment only in June of the next year. During this time he was dependent on his friends, or rather one friend in particular. Nzayabino will only describe him as “one of his good friends”. It is a pattern that occurs throughout the story, he doesn’t like to give any details about the people he mentions.

It is clear his ‘big friend’ is dear to Nzayabino. They went to high school and university together and even lectured at the same place afterwards. He worked for the businessman who organised the convoy and was able to support Nzayabino for the six months he was out of work.

Nzayabino found work as a private tutor for children who went to French schools. With regular employment he could finally start settling down.

It was during the four years he spent in Kenya that two of the most important events in Nzayabino’s life occurred. His voice raises and he seems slightly excited as he describes it, “It was a prime event…In Kenya I was saved, I accepted Jesus Christ as my saviour.” For the next part he speaks slower, emphasising every word, “On 8 October 1995.” It is clear that there are few dates he holds more important.

The other event was consequence of the first one. Several months after he converted Nzayabino moved to Nairobi. Two years later, he met the woman who would be his wife at the church he regularly attended. She also came from Rwanda and had left because of the war. But for Nzayabino there was a more important connection between them. “More than the refugee experience was the spiritual experience.”

“After I was born again I wouldn’t go for any woman or wife that was not also born again. I prayed to God to give me a born again wife…I could see her faith and we were together in the church. The Lord is in her. So far, I have seen there has been mistake. In the ten years since we’ve been together I have seen nothing to say it is not the will of God.” He pauses for a few seconds, a wide smile erupting across his face, “Beautiful!”

On personal scale, life was looking good for Nzayabino but the situation for migrants in Kenya was deteriorating. The government was making it clear that migrants were unwelcome, “One of the problems we had….was that we didn’t have proper documentation. The government did not want to give us those documents that one needs.” There was also more direct harassment being directed at the migrants, “…the government would tell people they must hand in those improper documents. They should remit them to home affairs. When people brought the documents, they were confiscated and then told they had a few days to leave the country.”

If this was how they treated migrants now, Nzayabino was concerned about what they would do next, “Our first child had been born…If the government was trying to deport us it did not look like a good future.”

Migrants were at the mercy of the government, and the Kenyan police, “The police would organise raids (on the refugees houses) and then take anything they wanted from them. The Kenyan population was fine, the government and the police were the big problem. It was definitely time to go. In November 1998, Nzayabino and his wife said goodbye to Kenya and set their sights on South Africa. There was just the small problem of having no travel documents or passports to overcome.

The journey to South Africa was nothing like the smooth ride Nzayabino had from Rwanda to Kenya, “It was not that easy to travel with a family. We had to stay in cities for longer times so that the baby could get her strength back. Sometimes we would not even have enough water for her while we were travelling. Thank God she did not get sick.”

It was over a month of constant travelling before they reached South Africa. They went through six countries on their way down, suffering a major delay when they were not allowed into Zimbabwe. Going by car, taxi, bus, train, or whatever they could find.

Entering the countries presented their own challenges too. Nzayabino could not rely on anybody else this time round, “To get out of Kenya was easy because we had that paper. We would always avoid immigration points. Before we went to the border we had to gather information and make enquiries on how to get past. And we managed, all of the borders. We went from Swaziland into South Africa and had to go through the fence.

As tough as the journey was, it could have been a lot worse. Nzayabino has no doubts about who kept them going, “God was always moving with us. In order to move from one country to another we have to have assurance that it is the right time to go. And from Nairobi to here nobody touched our pockets. No incidents and that never normally happens, We have heard so many stories, some have been robbed, some arrested, some beaten, bad stories. The word of God was always our support.”

It had been a relatively trouble free journey. It was only once they were in South Africa that they encountered their first major hiccup. They were arrested after going through a roadblock in the Witbank area. Nzayabino tried to explain to the police that they were refugees, and not illegal immigrants but found no sympathy from the South African police.

They were taken to a jail nearby where they were supposed to wait for the immigration officers to pick them up. They were told it was only going to be for a day or two but they stayed there for two weeks. “It was an awful experience,” says Nzayabino. “My wife and baby in one cell and me in the other.”

When they were picked up they were taken to the Lindela Repatriation Centre in Johannesburg. The centre is the collecting point for all illegal immigrants to be deported back to their home countries. Again, they had to wait for one of the infrequent visits by the immigration officers to present their case. So they spent another week behind walls. Nzayabino could not seem much difference between the cell they just come from and this “prison.”

Three weeks after they had been arrested Nzayabino and his wife were dropped off in Braamfontein and registered as refugees with temporary permits, They had wanted to go to Pretoria but found themselves in the middle of Johannesburg instead.

True to his character, Nzayabino points out the positives of the whole experience, “We realised the difficulties we went through were part of our Christian life as well. It was the first time I have been in prison and I had a good time because I was always thinking of my wife and child. Prison is where my baby learned to walk.”

“The second positive thing, is that those weeks I spent in prison was my first time to preach. People from Mozambique and Malawi in the same cell as me were calling me pastor even though I am not one. I would preach to them, some of them were even confessing their sins, accepting Jesus Christ. It was a good experience. Maybe it was the will of God I was there?”

He continues to preach and share his faith whenever he gets the chance. He and his wife also devote their time to counselling fellow refugees. “Refugees go through many experiences in a foreign land,” Nzayabino explains. “Sometimes they just need a little encouragement. We try to speak to them. For those who have family problems and those who have spiritual problems. We like to visit refugee communities around Johannesburg”

After puttting his arrest behind him Nzayabino had another unpleasant surprise in South Africa, the rampant xenophobia he soon encountered. While the memory of prison faded, refugees still encountered xenophobia everyday. “The difference between here and Kenya is that there, the government and police are xenophobic but the population is not. Here, even the population is xenophobic. It is not as bad as Kenya but there are differences, you don’t find blame shifting there: Who brought down HIV and other pandemics? Migrants! Who are selling all the drugs? Migrants! Who is stealing our jobs? Migrants! Or something like that.”

“Xenophobia is increasing among politicians and grass-roots communities. People need to change their minds and attitudes in this era of globalisation.”

Back when he first arrived Nzayabino, following many fellow refugees, worked as a car guard on Durban to support his family. There were some lean times, but his good humour and unshakeable faith has helped him come out smiling. Things are going well for him and his family, which has grown by two little boys since they arrived.

Nzayabino’s dream is to return to Rwanda one day, but he is pragmatic enough to know it is rare possibility. As always, he will make the best of whatever life throws at him, with good humour and unshakeable faith.

Nzayabino is a typical student in one respect, he doesn’t know what he will be doing after he finishes his course either. With two years still to go there is no need to rush, right now, he is just enjoying being back at university after a break that lasted 15 years.

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