This interview with former ZPRA cadre Enoch Dube (war name John Mguni) traces his journey from political activism in South Africa into exile, military training, and frontline deployment during Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle.
In a detailed account, with Zenzele Ndebele, he reflects on recruitment networks, training in Zambia, internal tensions within the liberation movement, and the realities of cross-border operations that shaped his experience in the war.
Zenzele: Mr Dube, please start by telling us your birth name and your war name.
Enoch: My birth name is Enoch Dube, and my war name is John Mguni. I was born in Nyamandlovu, but we were displaced. After the displacement, we ended up in Tsholotsho. Some of my family members were displaced upstream of the Gwayi River near Sipepa.
Zenzele: What year were you born?
Enoch: I was born on 3 March 1949.
Zenzele: When did you leave for the war?
Enoch: I left South Africa in 1976, during the June Riots. Three of us left together. We went to Botswana and, as we had been told, we looked for the Police when we arrived.
Zenzele: Let me take you back a little. What made you leave South Africa to join the war? Who had told you about it?
Enoch: It was discussed at length. I was heavily involved in ANC politics while living in Soweto. I felt like I belonged there, and I attended their meetings regularly. Through those meetings, we learned that in Rhodesia, there was ZAPU. But when we left, we intended to join the ANC, not ZAPU, because that is the movement we had been most involved with.
Zenzele: So when you crossed into Botswana, your goal was to join the ANC?
Enoch: Yes, that is correct.
Zenzele: When you got to Botswana, what happened?
Enoch: When we got to Gaborone, they directed us to the Police. When we arrived there, the Police intimidated us. At that time, cameras were very unfamiliar to people, and they set one up right in Front of us. South African Police were also coming in; it was chaos, with officers running in all directions. We were put in a hall and told to write a biography, and to write the exact truth. They told us that if we wrote lies, the camera would capture that, and it would be taken as proof that we were spies sent by the whites. That meant you were a threat, and that would be the end for you. That was heavy-handed intimidation, but it worked; it compelled us to tell the truth, from where we were born and everything else. They took our papers, called us in, and then told us to wait in another house. After some time, a car arrived and took us to Francistown, where we were put in the refugee camp.
Zenzele: What was that experience like when you first arrived at the refugee camp?
Enoch: When you hear about war, you form your own imagination of it. If you have never experienced it, you picture something like James Bond 007. You have no real sense of what war actually is, so you pack things like jeans and corduroy trousers. When we got to the camp, we had our own money at first, but we quickly realised how hard it was to survive. They cooked food in a drum, and whether it was properly cooked or not, people ate it because it was all that was available. Because we had money, we bought our own food, things like tinned fish. But as time passed, our money ran out, and we could no longer afford to eat separately. Some of the men suggested going back, but I refused. They left, it seemed like a joke at the time. One of them is here in town even now, perhaps both of them. They ran away.
Zenzele: How did you move forward after leaving the refugee camp?
Enoch: There was a soccer pitch just outside the camp, and I loved soccer. I would go out to play with the Batswana. One day, while I was playing, the two men I had come with slipped away. A day passed, and the camp leaders suspected I might follow my friends. So they decided that on the next trip out, I would go with the soldiers, and I did. We went to Lusaka, where I was given the name John Mguni and told that my birth name was no longer to be used. We were then taken to Nampundwe camp.
Zenzele: What happened when you arrived at Nampundwe?
Enoch: I recognised a man there called Teddy, we had worked together before. As boys from Plumtree and Khezi, we knew each other well. Most of us used to work at hotels, and he was one of the first to open things up there. He asked me, “When you stayed behind, what did you think you were going to do?” We stayed there for a while, and then they put us into formations. They needed to know who was who and what each person could do. Then the day came when we met Nkomo. Teddy had pulled me aside and told me I would not need all my clothes, just two pairs of jeans. He said, “That is all you will need for training. Leave the rest with me. When you finish, we will see each other if we are still alive. I won’t rob you; there is no need.”
Zenzele: So Teddy was of a higher rank than you at that point?
Enoch: Yes. He was already trained. So even though we knew each other personally, he had to find careful ways to advise me. I left my extra clothes with him, knowing we would be rolling on the ground when we went to welcome Nkomo. Then came the time when they needed a group to train in Angola and another to go to Mulungushi. It seemed at first like I would go to Angola, but I think the numbers for that group were already enough, so we were reassigned to Mulungushi. I remember we were over 2,000 men, we trained with twenty companies.
Zenzele: Were you among the first group to go through that training?
Enoch: Yes. We were trained by Zambians for a short while before any representation from Rhodesia arrived. Mid-training, other comrades arrived, men like Marshal, Khupe, and others whose names I have forgotten. We stayed with them. During the passout rehearsals, they were the ones given the ranks of lieutenant to conduct the drills with us. When we finished rehearsing and the time came for the actual Passout, we were told that Mr Nkomo was away in Russia. We waited for months, just waiting, because the Zambians had done their part. They then said we should form our own administration. The Zambians had appointed commanders among us when we first arrived at the companies, a company commander, then a 2IC who served as commissar in the Zambian system, and then three platoon commanders beneath them. After some time, we received ZGUs. Those five from each company’s command element were also given additional training. Later, we were told that another 300 would go through training, but that we, as the command element, would be training in the Soviet Union.
Zenzele: So you were being trained as a regular army, not as guerrillas?
Enoch: We trained for the regular army throughout. The comrades who came with Khupe added a small portion of guerrilla training, but otherwise it was regular army training all the way to the end.
Zenzele: And after that, you were set to go to Russia to train as part of the command element?
Enoch: Yes. That was what had been said, the command element from each company would go to Russia, while the other 300 would pursue different specialities. But to this day, Mr Ndebele, I have asked myself what happened that kept me from going.
Zenzele: In your thinking and with your experience, do you believe you were cheated out of that opportunity?
Enoch: Yes. There was already foul play. They had started vetting people based on which schools they had attended, St. Columbus, Mzilikazi, and so on. That filtering was already in place.
Zenzele: So this issue goes back a long way?
Enoch: Yes, it lives within people. Although in ZPRA they tried to suppress it by all means, it was still there, quietly operating.
Zenzele: So you were left behind while someone else took your place?
Enoch: Yes. The man who had been the 2IC of the company, the commissar, was Brigadier Mpabanga. He lives out near the plots here. His war name was Moffat Nkomo. He came to me one day and said, “You are no longer going to Russia, just to let you know. Jabu has replaced you.”
Zenzele: Which Jabu? Jabu Dabengwa?
Enoch: Not him. This Jabu was Major Masuku back in Rhodesia. I do not know if he is still alive, I remember he once lived somewhere in Lobengula West. No one ever officially explained to me why I was no longer going. I was told, and that was that.
Zenzele: What happened after that?
Enoch: Since we were now under our own administration, the Zambians were no longer guiding us. The comrades who had come with Khupe had formed our own structure, with Smile Dube as the overall in charge overall, along with Butholezwe and others. After a while, they called on comrades to return home to Rhodesia to fight. Company One went first. There was a man called Thathani, and he and I had both come from South Africa. That is where another issue surfaced.
Zenzele: What issue was that? Were Zimbabweans living in South Africa not welcomed into ZPRA?
Enoch: They were not wanted. They were treated like outcasts, seen as stubborn, like rebels.
Zenzele: And Thathani was also removed?
Enoch: Yes. He was supposed to go but was removed. I was removed as well. Another company was then formed with me as the company commander. There was another man who had also come from South Africa, his name was Sililo, and he became my deputy. There was also a man called Reevs. From what people said, he should have qualified, but something prevented it. His family was from old Magwegwe.
Zenzele: So men from the high-density suburbs grouped against those from rural areas?
Enoch: The school you attended and the area you came from also determined which group you fell into. There was a notable influence from men from the Kalanga regions, they were dominant. Then there were the rest, the ordinary comrades.
Zenzele: What happened when your company was finally deployed?
Enoch: We left for FC with my company because we had not yet been issued arms. We were transported by truck, and when we arrived, the boxes were opened, and we were issued brand-new arms, still greased, which we cleaned ourselves. At that moment, Kenneth Kaunda’s jets flew overhead. Some of my men started shooting at them with AK-47s, not realising they were Kaunda’s jets. Trucks then transported us, and because we did not know the area, we went straight back to Mulungushi; it was the only place we knew. We travelled along the Great East Road, passing Chinyunyu. The vehicles stopped, and we were told to get out. The cars left, and some comrades arrived to meet us, I believe one of them was Barberton, and the one I remember clearly was Ngwenya. They had completed officer cadet training at Kohima Barracks while we were at Mulungushi. There was also Sambulo, who has since passed, he died while still serving as an NCO under Hwange.
Zenzele: What was your first mission?
Enoch: They asked if I was the company commander and then laid out the mission. They said that in a nearby mountainous area, some comrades had been bombed and had fled, leaving their arms and equipment behind. It appeared that the whites had been in that area. Our task was to go and clear the area, confirm whether the whites were still present, and recover everything belonging to ZAPU that had been left behind.
Zenzele: Was there a map or grid reference given?
Enoch: Nothing. They pointed to the mountains and gave us verbal directions. After walking about 10 kilometres, we started coming across scattered comrades. Some of them would run away when they saw us.
Zenzele: Why were you being mistaken or feared by your own comrades?
Enoch: Because we were fully armed in combat gear and moving in numbers like a regular force, both things were unusual. The guerrillas were dressed entirely differently and operated in smaller groups. We did manage to stop three comrades who had no time to run. We spoke to them until they understood who we were. They said they did not want to go toward Foxhole. They pointed us further into the mountains. We continued and found another comrade by a riverbed, cooking. I instructed the platoon commanders to approach carefully, find out who he was, and make sure he did not get away. He explained how they had been bombed and how people had panicked and fled, leaving everything behind. Every comrade we questioned confirmed that the whites had been there.
Zenzele: What did you decide to do given that you only had AK-47s against a force with helicopters?
Enoch: We asked ourselves exactly that question. We also felt that the comrades who had sent us, having completed officer cadet training, should have led us there themselves rather than simply sending us in. But we pressed on. When the sun had set, I took a few comrades with me, and we climbed a mountain path. We were exhausted, but we reached the top. There was evidence that a ZGU had been positioned there, but we could not find it. Going back down in that state of exhaustion was very difficult. I remember that halfway up, one comrade slipped, and we only heard him fall — but we kept going.
Zenzele: Did he find you on the mountain top?
Enoch: No, we saw him the following day when we came back down and rejoined the company. I then instructed one platoon commander to clear the area on the mountain and another to secure open ground so we could monitor what was happening below. By mid-morning, since we had no radios, the batman, tired as he was, had to bring reports on foot. He confirmed there were no whites, no helicopters, and on the very ground where helicopters were said to have been parked, there was no sign that any had ever landed there. Mr Ndebele, at that point, the men were hungry and exhausted.
Zenzele: What had frightened the comrades then, if there were no whites? Did they bomb and simply leave?
Enoch: Yes. They bombed and left.
Zenzele: I have spoken to several people who were at Foxhole. Was that the same camp known as Sam Madondo’s camp?
Enoch: I believe so, yes.
Zenzele: There are claims that they brought helicopters down?
Enoch: That is what we heard as well. We were told the helicopters were still there. But we found nothing to indicate they had ever been there.
Zenzele: Or that they were shot down?
Enoch: Not at all. There was nothing.
Zenzele: What happened when you eventually got into the camp itself?
Enoch: It had not all happened in a single day. On the first day, we moved until around five in the evening. We had been told we would find food there, so after confirming there were no whites, we turned our attention to finding supplies. Some of the men got to the quartermaster store first and found sacks of powdered milk. They did not stop to think about what eating that milk on an empty stomach would do to them.
Zenzele: They cooked the milk?
Enoch: They made it thick and ate it, and then their stomachs turned on them. Milk on an empty stomach, after that level of hunger, was too much. They later discovered there was mealie meal, meat, beans, fish, and other supplies, but the milk had been prepared more quickly, so they went for instant energy. It cost them. We rested, and the following day we moved into the camp properly. There was a clinic and an MI room, we found them and gathered medication. After all that marching and exhaustion, we had not even had time to bathe. But once we had confirmed through our monitoring that the whites were not there and had perhaps only stayed a few hours before leaving, we told the comrades to bathe on the side they were patrolling.
Zenzele: What about the arms you had come to recover?
Enoch: We had not found a single one at first. We were still searching because we had been told the comrades had thrown their arms away while running. Then one comrade was bathing in a river, the water was so clear you could see straight to the bottom. He felt something strike his foot and discovered it was a gun. He told the others, and they started feeling around with their hands and found more. That explained why the whites had never found the guns, they were hidden beneath the water. After that, everyone was directed to search the river, and we recovered many arms, especially pistols.
Zenzele: Did you find the ZGUs you had been looking for in the mountains?
Enoch: No. We found evidence that three ZGUs had been positioned on different mountains, but we never located them. We only recovered the smaller arms and various items from the quartermaster store and the armoury.
Zenzele: What happened next? Where were you supposed to report after the mission?
Enoch: We had not been told. After four days, a vehicle came bringing supplies. I believe they had reasoned that if white soldiers were still there, they would have opened fire on the vehicle, confirming their presence. Since there was no shooting, they knew it was safe to come through. They asked us what had happened. We told them about the guns and everything else. They instructed us to load the recovered weapons onto the vehicle. Since they had brought food, we were no longer hungry — we had already eaten from the stores. They took the guns and left, then told us to return along the same route we had come in on the Great East Road.
Zenzele: What about the scattered comrades you had encountered along the way, did you gather them as you left?
Enoch: No. They did not want to listen to us. Some would run away even as we tried to speak to them. We knew from conversation that they were our comrades, but they refused to come with us. We had no mission regarding them, we had only been instructed to recover the ammunition. So we spoke to them where we found them and moved on.
Zenzele: What happened on your return journey?
Enoch: As we passed by several camps on the way back, it became clear that the comrades we had encountered earlier had already reported our movements. The camps had been briefed about us before we arrived. At one camp, we encountered more comrades, and when we finally reached the Great East Road, we rejoined the men who had been with Ngwenya. They escorted us across a river, and we established a small base where we stayed for three days. Then, while moving to another base deep in a forested area, around five in the morning, we saw helicopters pass over. It was still dark, so we could not count them. After some time, they flew back, and we later heard they had gone to bomb the girls at Mkushi Camp.
Zenzele: How did you eventually make your way toward Rhodesia?
Enoch: After a few days, a commissar named Emmanuel arrived and told us to prepare to leave. A vehicle came and took us to Livingstone. From there, we passed through to the Zambian side of the crossing, a place called Front, where some men were based. I remember one man called SamaNkazana. We spent the rest of that day there and were told we would cross the river at sunset. We began crossing at about 8 p.m. and continued until around 2 or 3 in the morning.
Zenzele: How many men were in your company?
Enoch: My company had about 130 men. It was a reinforced company, a normal company usually comprised around 100.
Zenzele: What was the crossing like?
Enoch: We crossed from the Zambian bank over the Zambezi. They helped everyone across and had them wait on the other side. We only finished crossing early the next morning. When I crossed over, I found the rest of the men already asleep, so I woke them and told them we had to move. We had war veterans who knew the route. One of them was called Sigoge, his original name was Karikoka. We later ended up together in the army. He was one of the men leading us. We stopped around midday when we heard the sound of vehicles. Karikoka told us we were being tracked. Our advantage was the terrain, coming from the river, there were many ponds where animals came to drink, which meant countless animal trails, making it very hard for anyone to distinguish our tracks.
Zenzele: Were you running short of supplies at that point?
Enoch: We ran out of water in our bottles, and the heat was intense. We stopped at a pond that had a blue layer covering its surface. In our group, there was a man from Bangwe who had some medical training. He examined the water and said it was safe, that we could even use it for cooking. I could clearly see the layer on top and the insects in the water, but he insisted it was fine. He said, “If the water were not safe, the insects would not be alive.”
Zenzele: So if the water had been poisonous, the insects would have died first?
Enoch: Exactly. So we used that water for cooking. We were close to the main road by then. After eating, we continued, and near the border with Botswana, we crossed over to the Botswana side, it was either that route or through Tsholotsho. To reach our side, we had to pass through Botswana.
Zenzele: What happened once you were on the Botswana side?
Enoch: We had been told that people would come to collect us, but two days passed, and no one came. By then, we were hungry. If you want to see discipline disappear among soldiers, let them go hungry; they will tell you plainly. So I took a risk. I had heard of a man called Mkhwananzi in Pandamatenga, a strong supporter of ZAPU. We had been told that if anything was needed, he was the contact. I gathered a few comrades, and we stopped a car from Kasane at gunpoint. It stopped. We told the driver we wanted nothing from him, only to get to Pandamatenga. By luck, he was from Rhodesia. He took us there, gave us directions, and warned us about the immigration posts on both the Botswana and Rhodesian sides. He said even if you passed the Botswana side, the Rhodesian side could still spot you.
Zenzele: Did you find Mkhwananzi when you got there?
Enoch: We could not find him at first. We tried asking around, and they reached him by phone. He told us to wait, he was in Francistown but on his way. He arrived and brought us mealie meal. By that time, the comrades had been eating only meat, which was causing stomach problems because there was nothing else to go with it.
Zenzele: There were animals in the area?
Enoch: Yes. They were shooting animals, especially near the boundary. Ndebele, I had young men with me, mostly boys from Manama, and they were the kind who would tell you plainly they were going to shoot an animal, and they did. When the mealie meal arrived, discipline was restored, and we ate properly.
Zenzele: How did you eventually move from there?
Enoch: After three days, a truck came from Pandamatenga going toward Kasane. It kept stopping and starting, and we suspected it might be the one coming for us. I sent a few men to check, and they found Comrade Poso. He only said he would return, then continued on his way. But another three days passed with nothing. The challenge was that Botswana and ZAPU were working hand in hand so that we could move within Botswana, but we had to avoid being seen by the whites. It was like a cat-and-mouse game. I suspect the Batswana eventually told Poso that we had already been identified, so he was told to hold off. Botswana operated that way.
Zenzele: Were you ever at risk of being disarmed by the Botswana Defence Force?
Enoch: Yes. Most men in similar situations were disarmed and sent back to Zambia, a very hard thing to go through. We had one challenge with the BDF men. I explained to them that we could not be disarmed, and they let us pass. I think they had not yet contacted their senior commanders, because if they had, they would have been firmer. We managed to get through without serious trouble. If I remember correctly, they dropped us at Ngwanyana or Tshingababili, somewhere around there, and we crossed the river into Rhodesia.
Zenzele: So, were you now in the operational zone?
Enoch: No, we were still on the journey. I had not yet been given my mission. I was supposed to see the regional commander first.
Zenzele: Who was the regional commander at that time?
Enoch: It was Mphini.
Zenzele: Where did your first battle take place?
Enoch: My first battle was near the tanks at Number 3. We left that area and moved toward some farming plots. When you come from the direction of Mbagwe, there are the Sikina farms that stretch all the way to Roger, near Sinukwe. We were walking along those farms. When we had passed them and were moving into the homesteads, I sensed that we might be being followed. I looked for Mafu Sjumba, you must have heard of him, he has since passed on, and told him to track back and check if anyone was following us.
Zenzele: What happened when he went back?
Enoch: They came across each other, and it was chaos. At that stage, we still had the mindset of regular soldiers, though we now had war veterans among us. We did not realise at the time that we had just encountered Indlovu Ngempama, we thought we had only run into whites. After it was over, some of the men suggested going to Chakasinukwe at St. Joseph to find more comrades, but they were really running away from what we had just done.
Zenzele: They knew you had made an error and wanted to leave the regulars to face the consequences?
Enoch: Exactly. They left. The following day, the men we had encountered came to us and told us about a girl who was in a relationship with a police officer. She had warned them that an attack was coming because she had heard there were guerrillas at Number 3. We asked for more details, confirmed it was true, and said we were ready, but told them to keep gathering information. We then left with the Sikoke guerrillas and reached the homesteads at the far end near Roger Farm. We heard there were other men at St. Joseph, so we went there. That is when I was instructed to remain at St. Joseph while the commander went ahead. Our platoons spread out, and we waited.
Zenzele: What happened at St. Joseph?
Enoch: We lost two comrades there. One of them was in a relationship with a local girl, and through some complication, a neighbouring girl had become pregnant. The first girl was staying with her mother, who I think had come to see the comrade as a son-in-law. Four men from our group decided to visit the homesteads one evening. At the first home, they drank tea, then split into pairs to continue to another homestead. One of them had left his trousers at a tailor’s and went there first. The other two went to the second girl’s home. Her mother, knowing the girl’s intentions, had made tea for them. The man who had gone to the tailor refused it, saying he had already had some. A third man drank only half a cup. The remaining two drank fully. They became too weak to walk.
Zenzele: What did you do when you received word?
Enoch: I was at St. Joseph when a message came through that some comrades were sick. When I arrived, I found that community members had taken them to the riverbed. It was clear they would not survive.