Professor offers me a handful of darts. I decline. He stands up and lofts a dart toward the board. He smiles as it scores 19.
‘Let me give you some time to think about this,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to hand you information that may be dangerous for you if you aren’t going to use it. Come by my shop when you decide.’
He pulls a small flyer from his jacket pocket. The ‘Great Zimbabwe Curio Shop’. The Professor specialises in Shona sculpture, baskets and copper masks.
‘That’s where I spend my mornings,’ he says. ‘A little business venture to occupy me in my old age.’
We walk outside to a blue Peugeot. A young woman is at the wheel.
‘Tambudzai will drive you home,’ he says. ‘She’s a good driver, though not yet ready for the Rolls.’
I sit in the back seat while she moves cautiously toward the street. She honks twice to warn pedestrians. Two women, each carrying a stack of baskets on her head, scurry past the driveway entrance. I still don’t understand why the Professor selected me.
‘How did you like the castle?’ Tambudzai asks.
‘Fine,’ I reply. ‘A surprising thing to find in Africa.’
‘They say it was built by Europeans,’ she says, ‘but I’m not so sure. I think they found it already here.’
‘Stranger things have happened.’
She comes up to a small pickup truck with a dozen workers piled in the back. Two of them dangle their legs over the open tail gate. Such carelessness seems commonplace here; there’s no sense of road safety.
I sit in my living room until after midnight going through all my books, recording all mentions of Tichasara. I fill eleven cards with his data. Only Mugabe and Nkomo occupy more space in my files.
Zimbabwe’s greatest historian has offered me more than a chance to interview a trio of passengers in Tichasara’s car. My books all say the man died in an accident. If I can prove otherwise, I could earn a permanent place among this country’s historians, maybe even right up there with Dlamini. Despite the Professor’s warning, the risk can’t be anything to worry about. We are just academics, not soldiers of fortune.
A couple of days after my meeting with Dlamini, I receive a letter from Wisconsin State, telling me that John Peterson has received a well-deserved promotion. He’s going to head the African Studies Program at ucla, one of the best in the country.
I’m happy for Peterson, but I’ve lost a great supervisor and a resolute ally in the trench warfare with academic bureaucracy. John Peterson was the driving force behind my trip to Zimbabwe. He took me under his wing, then made sure I had funding.
Peterson spent ten years in Kenya and Uganda and wrote two books on independent Africa. He shares my enthusiasm for the possibilities of this country. In our discussion about the Prime Minister’s first speech to parliament, he told me Mugabe was destined to become the ‘African Gandhi’.
In his place the university has bestowed on me Professor Geoffrey Latham. Peterson and I used to call him ‘the dinosaur’. He attended Oxford some time before World War ii. Like so many ageing Englishmen, whatever minute traces of passion remain in his soul are reserved for the glory of the British Empire.
Chapter 8
A few days later, I receive a letter from Latham himself.
February 4, 1982
Dear Mr Dabney,
As you are aware, Dr Peterson has left Wisconsin State. Consequently, the university has determined that I will now be responsible for the supervision of your doctoral research and dissertation.
Having read your documentation quite thoroughly, I have a number of concerns. Regrettably, since you have already embarked on your fieldwork, we are unable to communicate in person. Hence, I will have to take a rather uncomfortable but I think vital step of informing you of my concerns in this letter.
My major reservation regarding your overall approach is objectivity. Even your vocabulary shows a definite bias. Terms such as ‘liberation struggle’ and ‘freedom fighters’ reveal preconceived opinions and value judgements which could ultimately compromise the quality of your research as well as your final publication.
Moreover, you seem to revere Mr Mugabe almost as if he were divinely inspired. This is an extremely precarious standpoint from which to proceed on a research project in which Mr Mugabe’s actions and philosophy play such a central role.
Lastly, in your list of prospective interviews, there is a noticeable paucity of individuals affiliated with the previous government (which you refer to as the ‘racist regime’ on six occasions). It seems rather obvious that reconciliation is a two-way process. Therefore, your research should be equally balanced between the groups you call the ‘liberation movement’ (‘insurgents’ or ‘armed opposition’ would be more appropriate terms) and those you deem to have been part of the ‘racist regime’ (I suggest the ‘previous regime’ as a neutral rendering).
In order to proceed further with your research under my supervision, you will have to address these concerns as soon as possible. I urgently request that you contact me within two weeks of the date on this letter to indicate how you plan to address the issues I have noted.
I look forward to hearing from you. I wish you the best in your research. I eagerly await a dissertation of the highest calibre.
Yours faithfully,
Professor GD Latham, PhD (Oxford)
The day after Latham’s letter arrives, I receive a packet of his articles sent by Peterson.
The contents of Peterson’s package aren’t reassuring. In a piece entitled ‘Eulogy for Rhodesia’, Latham lauds the contribution of the all-white Rhodesian Front party to the Southern African region. He characterises Ian Smith, the last white prime minister of Rhodesia – who once promised blacks would not rule the country ‘in a thousand years’ – as a ‘misunderstood maverick with an instinctive feel for life in Africa’.
An enclosed note from Peterson says he’s heard rumours that Latham was a major shareholder in a company that supplied mercenaries to the Rhodesian government during the war against Zanu and Zapu.
I’m in deep. I tear up the first six drafts of my reply. After nine days, I send draft number seven.
March 7, 1982
Dear Professor Latham,
Thank you for your letter of February 4.
I regret that you are not entirely satisfied with my research proposal. Unfortunately, I am not wholly persuaded by your explanation as to why I should alter my approach.
My main concern is the issue of Mr Mugabe. I will not deny that I hold him in very high esteem. For any man to endure a decade of unjust incarceration and then preach a gospel of reconciliation toward his captors is truly remarkable. I wish there were more Robert Mugabes in this world.
Nonetheless, if my research should reveal shortcomings or contradictions in his actions of which I am not currently
