A decade without answers: Dzamara’s lawyer exposes flawed abduction investigation

Ten years after the abduction of journalist and pro-democracy activist Itai Dzamara, human rights lawyer Kennedy Masiye has exposed serious flaws in the police investigation, accusing authorities of hesitation, secrecy, and a lack of commitment to uncovering the truth.

Speaking during a virtual discussion hosted by CITE in partnership with Amnesty International, Masiye—who has worked on Dzamara’s case since day one—criticised Zimbabwean authorities for failing to conduct a credible investigation.

The discussion, titled “Itai Dzamara: Ten Years Without Answers,” marked a decade since Dzamara was abducted on 9 March 2015, when five men seized him from a barber shop in Harare’s Glen View suburb.

A vocal critic of then-President Robert Mugabe, Dzamara has not been seen since.

Masiye revealed that the last known police report on the case was submitted in 2017.

“To my knowledge, there has been no official report or follow-up investigation since then,” he said. “The police have shown no urgency, and there is a deep lack of trust in law enforcement when it comes to this case.”

He also described how the authorities appeared reluctant to investigate from the start.

“When I first assisted Dzamara’s wife in reporting his abduction, officers at the first police station we visited were visibly afraid. They wanted nothing to do with the case,” he said.

At Harare Central Police Station, officers refused to investigate, claiming it was ‘too early’ to file a report.

A habeas corpus application was later filed with the High Court, which ordered police to investigate and provide fortnightly updates. But Masiye said these efforts were token gestures rather than genuine attempts to find Dzamara.

“They claimed to have conducted public appeals on ZTV and national radio, but I never saw or heard any,” he said. “If they did, it was probably in the middle of the night when no one was listening.”

In September 2015, Dzamara’s brother, Patson, received a text message with specific details about the abduction, including alleged suspects, vehicle registration numbers, and locations where Dzamara had supposedly been held.

Masiye described it as the closest thing to a breakthrough.

The message, which Masiye read aloud, stated:

“Itai was abducted using a white double cab, reg number ABG 286, by Ticharewa Mubaiwa, Liberty Shamu, Owen Zivanai Mazarura, Tendai Chinyani, and taken to Border Gezi for four days. He was then moved to Goromonzi Farm by Watson Marufu from the Army KG6. A meeting between police and CIO officials ended in accusations that he had been killed and buried at Chikurubi Prison Cemetery, grave number 71. His body was later exhumed and dumped in a dam at Chitemba Farm on Mazowe Road near the CIO headquarters. Endai ikoko now. Call the police there. Musaregere.”

But the trail quickly ran cold.

The phone number used to send the message was traced to a young O-Level student in Kwekwe, who had no connection to the case. Further checks showed that the number had previously belonged to a person who died in 2010—five years before the abduction.

“It was clear the police were sending us in circles, feeding us dead ends,” Masiye said.

Masiye also questioned the credibility of Assistant Inspector Makedenge, the officer leading the investigation.

“Makedenge is notorious for human rights abuses in Zimbabwe,” he said. “He has been named in numerous reports for kidnapping activists. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was involved in Dzamara’s abduction.”

When the investigation team attempted to visit one of the military bases mentioned in the text, they were met with armed soldiers.

“We were surrounded and had guns pointed at us. They asked who had given us the authority to be there,” Masiye said.

“They told us that even the police needed ministerial approval to investigate the base. We left it at that.”

Masiye said the investigation had been deliberately obstructed, with officials either ignoring key evidence or making it impossible to verify claims.

Even basic requests to the Registrar General’s office—such as checking national records for the names mentioned in the text message—were blocked.

“They told us we needed to provide the suspects’ ID numbers and dates of birth,” he said. “That showed they were not interested in helping.”

Beyond the flawed investigation, Masiye highlighted the emotional toll on Dzamara’s family, who have been denied closure for a decade.

“His wife and children are still waiting for answers. His youngest daughter was just two when he disappeared. The government has neglected this case, leaving the family in limbo,” he said.

He called for a renewed, transparent investigation.

“Right now, we are left with speculation, because those responsible for investigating are the same people blocking the truth,” he said.

He insisted that the authorities must acknowledge Dzamara’s fate—whether by confirming he is deceased or by producing credible evidence of his whereabouts.

“If they claim he is dead, they should prove it,” he said. “His family deserves closure.”