Africa: 'I Infiltrated a Ruthless Ring of Human Smugglers'
By Thabo Kunene
15 July 2014
Bulawayo - It's 5 p.m. in Zimbabwe and I'm at an infamous taxi rank in
Bulawayo, the second largest city in the country. I had made the crazy
decision to join a group of 'border jumpers' and illegally cross into South
Africa.
For years, I heard spine-chilling stories about border jumpers being eaten
by crocodiles in the Limpopo River. I heard about ruthless border gangs
called omaguma guma raping female border jumpers and shooting anyone who
resisted being robbed. I heard tips on how to avoid being shot by South
African soldiers patrolling their side of the border.
A friend, familiar with the operations of human smugglers, takes me to Macs
Garage where cross-border taxi operators are ranked.
"These are the human smugglers," my friend warns. "They will either take you
across the border into South Africa through the bush, or you will end up
dead in the mortuary as a victim of either omaguma guma criminals or South
Africa border guards. That is, if your ancestors abandon you."
Meeting the hyenas
I am told to get into a taxi already filled with other would-be border
jumpers. Some are women as old as 50. Some are children as young as four.
The taxi driver looks at me and asks: "My friend, are you fit for this
journey? You don't look well to me. " He's right. I am ill. But I had
decided to make the sacrifice and sell my soul to the devil. I wanted to
know what it felt like to be a border jumper - someone so desperate to get
into Europe or South Africa that he is willing to risk his life.
It's 7 p.m. Our taxi, along with another, departs towards the border town of
Beitbridge. Our group totals 45 border jumpers. Most are from Zimbabwe, but
some are from as far away as Mozambique, Malawi, Somalia, Ethiopia and
Central Africa Republic.
Four hours later we stop at a filling station just before the check point.
This is the haven of the human smugglers. We are introduced to our border
guides who are known as 'hyenas' - impisi in the local Ndebele language.
"Listen up all of you," says one. "Your lives are now in our hands. Your
rights have ceased to exist and it's us now who call the shots. When you are
with us, you do as you are told. Otherwise you won't make it to the other
side."
Bribes and beatings
We are forced to surrender our cell phones and other valuables in case we
encounter any omaguma guma criminals. We are left with only the clothes on
our back. If something happens, there will be no way of informing our
families.
We are bundled onto metered taxis which take us to the forest. Accompanied
by six guides and our driver, we walk towards the river.
At the bridge, we see Zimbabwe soldiers at their checkpoint. A guide tells
us to hide while he goes to negotiate with them about allowing us to pass
into South Africa.
The guide returns and says that the soldiers want big money. By these
actions, the soldiers seem willing participants in this border racket.
One of the guides is drunk and accuses the soldiers of being corrupt because
they are asking for so much bribe money. The soldiers get angry and drag the
guide closer to the river. We watch as they beat him up with sticks, boots
and fists. The guide screams for help, but even his friends are too scared
to intervene.
Bones and skulls
We finally pass the Zimbabwe side of the border, but there's still a more
challenging border to go. Since I am ill and not strong enough to climb a
wall, I jump down from the bridge. It leaves me with a twisted ankle and
back pains. I'm thirsty but there's no water.
"We are now taking the risky path," says a guide. "If you make it, you will
be in South Africa. If you are killed by border gangs, that's tough luck."
We walk for three hours through rough and rocky terrain towards a mountain
where our taxis, which crossed the border the legal way, are supposed to be
waiting.
Ripped clothes and empty bottles are scattered around the bush. We come
across human bones, skulls and remains. We are told these were border
jumpers who have not made it. A young woman faints from either shock or
fatigue.
It takes the guides an hour to revive her as she struggles for breath. As we
wait, I think about taking a picture of the skulls but my camera had been
taken away along with my phone. I couldn't very well say I was a journalist
and ask one of the guides to take a picture.
Obviously the human smugglers don't want to be exposed. This makes them
dangerous. They are known to throw those who refuse to pay for their
services into the Limpopo River to become a feast for the crocodiles. It's
said that over the years hundreds have lost their lives that way.
The human smugglers have also been accused of holding border jumpers until
their families in Johannesburg pay ransom. Over 30 women and teenage girls
were recently rescued from a house just outside Johannesburg where they were
held as hostages.
Ready for war
"Let's move. Time is not on our side," shouts a guide. The male border
jumpers are told to arm themselves with sticks, axes, stones or anything
that can ward off an attack.
"We have now entered a dangerous place patrolled by gangs. Please all men:
be ready for war. These guys take no prisoners. They are ruthless killers,"
says the guide.
"Lord, how can I die when I am almost there," I silently pray.
Finally we reach the mountain and safe terrain. A guide says we are very
lucky. Another guide phones the taxi drivers who are quick to arrive.
We all feel more safe the closer we get to Messina town. I suddenly realise
that my expensive leather jacket has been stolen.
I don't understand why people undertake this dangerous journey. It costs
over 100 euros. To apply for a Zimbabwe passport only costs 35 euros.