Latest news with #Matabeleland


Daily Maverick
04-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Maverick
Matabeleland: A cinematic reflection on love, loss, and the shadows of history
Seven years in the making, Nyasha Kadandara's Matabeleland tells the story of a man striving to exhume and rebury his father who was killed during the Gukurahundi Genocide in Zimbabwe. Other stories — along themes of masculinity, love and the troubles of immigration — emerge as the bigger story plays out. The protagonist of the story is Chris Nyathi, a Zimbabwean who makes his bread in Botswana by driving freight trucks. On camera, he flips out his cellphone and begins counting his children for the director. When asked for the total number, he struggles, he has never counted with the aim of getting to a total; the number tallies up to 17. That is not the whole story, though. Dumi, Nyathi's long-time girlfriend in Botswana, loves him, but would prefer to be his wife instead of being a mere 'girlfriend'. Nyathi says he cannot marry her now because his father was killed and buried improperly, and his affairs have never been in order — he first needs to successfully bury his father. Nyathi's father was beaten to death by the Fifth Brigade of the Zimbabwean army, a unit that reported directly to then prime minister Robert Mugabe. He was one of more than 20,000 people, many of them Ndebele-speaking natives of Matabeleland in southern Zimbabwe, systematically murdered by the brigade from 1983 until 1987 — in what is today called the Gukurahundi Genocide. Many were shot dead, but not Nyathi's father. Nyathi was 22 years old when he came home from work one day and was told that his father had been killed. He worked for the Matobo National Park, a reserve adjacent the family home. Shari Eppel, who makes an appearance in the film, says he was beaten to death while handcuffed. Eppel is director of Ukuthula Trust, an organisation that facilitates the exhumation for reburial of the remains of those who were killed during the genocide. Exhumed When Julius Mvulo Nyathi was exhumed in 2024, they discovered that the bones of his forearm — the radius and ulna — were broken at the same place on both hands, right where the handcuffs had been secured. And the autopsy report concluded that he was probably beaten with a metal object or rod while attempting to protect his head, until many bones on his body were broken, and until he could no longer resist. And until he was dead. Kadandara was both the director and the cinematographer of the film. She told Daily Maverick that she fell in love with the camera during her studies at Columbia Journalism School, where she was enrolled in the MS Documentary Specialization in 2014. There is a warmth in both the images of the characters and those of Matabeleland, the land. The characters seem absolutely relaxed in the glare of the camera, like they are oblivious of its presence. Kadandara said that both Nyathi and Dumi warmed to being filmed from the beginning. We also see a lot of mopane trees and close-up images of the worms that feast on their leaves. And there are images of the lizards whose home are the crevices of rocks on the Great Dyke Mountain Pass that cuts through Zimbabwe. 'It was very much me filming home; and also wanting to show in little ways the beautiful things that I love about where I come from,' she said. The filmmaker was born in Bulawayo in 1988, a year after the genocide officially ended — when, on 22 December 1987, Mugabe's Zimbabwe African National Union and Joshua Nkomo's Zapu signed what they called the Unity Accord and merged to form Zanu-PF, thus ending the killings. Kadandara — who was raised in Malindela, a suburb of Bulawayo — says she did not know that so many people had been systematically killed in Matabeleland in the years just before she was born. 'You know, I grew up not being taught about it at school, and not being told about it by adults,' Kadandara says. Atrocities It was way into adulthood that she learnt of the scale of the atrocities that had taken place right in her backyard. And so she went to her mother for answers. She told her about what she remembered. 'My mother told me that there was a curfew. She told me that people used to get stopped, intimidated and beaten by the police,' she said. She did not know that the genocide would be a big part of the documentary when she began. In an interview with Marmalade Collective, a Nigerian online magazine, she explained that she had initially wanted to make a seven-minute story focused on life a year after Robert Mugabe was deposed by a military coup in 2017. 'This shift happened after consulting with others, including my producer, who encouraged me to explore the story more deeply. What started as a short video within a larger multimedia piece turned into a feature documentary, which required much more time to tell the story properly,' she said. For this film, Kadandara worked with LBx Africa, a Kenyan production company. Sam Soko, the co-founder, took on the producer role for Matabeleland. 'We are creative partners and have worked with each other in different combinations. I was, for example, one of his cinematographers for his 2022 documentary Free Money, available on Netflix,' Kadandara said. They have even more projects on the way, including a film about the Zambian women's football team that participated in the 2023 World Cup. Kadandara has lived in Kenya for at least eight years now. When Kadandara began filming in 2018, she flew to Zimbabwe from Kenya. She would also routinely fly into Botswana to film with Nyathi and Dumi together and, sometimes, separately. 'I would usually go for about two weeks at a time and sort of see what I could capture,' she said. Covid-19 restrictions The film was shot over six years. Some of the scenes were filmed at the height of the Covid-19 period, with restrictions sometimes complicating travel between countries. For most of 2024, she worked with editor Jordan Inaan and producer Sam Soko to figure out what story to tell; a lover of music, Kadandara also compiled the playlist that composers Eduardo Aram and Gabriel Milliet used for the film score. Nyasha said the producer was a big part of crafting the story and wanted him credited. The result is a story that works at many levels. It is a love story, a story about a man struggling with the weight of his father's violent death at the hands of a powerful government; and the story of the estimated 20,000 people that who killed from 1983 until 1987. The film carries images of skeletons dug up from shallow graves distributed across the region — exhumed for reburial. Kadandara said she hoped the film inspired a reckoning with the past. She and some Zimbabwean partners had planned a series of screenings across Zimbabwe and she was especially excited for potential screenings in rural Matabeleland. When asked if she was worried about possible censorship, Kadandara said she was not because she wanted to be hopeful about Zimbabwe. 'And a lot of the things people love about the film is not necessarily the political. It is the human story, the intimacy, the relationship dynamic,' she said. DM


Mail & Guardian
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Mail & Guardian
The ‘weight of heavy logs': Masculinity and memory in Matabeleland
Set against the backdrop of the 1983 Gukurahundi massacres — in which the Zimbabwean army brutally targeted civilians in Matabeleland, killing thousands — the film follows protagonist Chris Nyathi. (Photo supplied) Directed by the talented Nyasha Kadandara, Matabeleland is set to captivate audiences with its African premiere at the prestigious Encounters South African International Documentary Festival, which runs until the 29 June in Johannesburg and Cape Town. This feature-length debut provides a deeply personal lens into a chapter of Zimbabwe's history that continues to ripple through generations. Set against the backdrop of the 1983 Gukurahundi massacres — in which the Zimbabwean army brutally targeted civilians in Matabeleland, killing thousands — the film follows protagonist Chris Nyathi. Nyathi is a 60-year-old Zimbabwean immigrant in Botswana who embarks on a poignant journey to secure his father's burial and confront the shadows of his family's legacy. Rooted in resilience and reconciliation, Matabeleland explores themes of love, masculinity and identity and offers an intimate reflection on generational trauma, healing and the enduring bonds of family. The evocative soundtrack by composers Eduardo Aram and Gabriel Milliet underscores the film's powerful narrative, while Kadandara's collaboration with producer Sam Soko of LBx Africa and co-producer Bob Moore of EyeSteelFilms results in a cinematic gem. In-between screenings of the film at the festival, I caught up with the Zimbabwean-born filmmaker Kadandara to find out more on the process of making this emotionally engaging documentary. Motaung: Congratulations on this great project. Tell us, when did your love for filmmaking and storytelling start? Kadandara: Thank you! If you asked my mother, she would tell you I was always trying to get her attention with stories about my imaginary friends or something else. I can talk a lot! But, more formally, I would say I found out that perhaps I had something to say, and people might want to hear it, when I was in the student newspaper at UCT. And then, during my first video course while doing my master's, I knew that I had found my medium: film. I feel really safe and at home with a camera in my hand and I love working with images and sound to create something that can transcend words. Motaung: What inspired the documentary Matabeleland and how long did it take to put it together? Kadandara: Following a change in power in Zimbabwe between late 2017 and 2018 I, along with many Zimbabweans, saw new opportunities in the country. In general, it was an inspiring time and many of us were hopeful. As a filmmaker, up until that point, I had not made any films in my own country, but had directed films in the US, India, Kenya and Chad. So, this felt like the right time to turn the lens on the place I call home. In particular, this story was very personal, having been born and raised in the region of Matabeleland. Initially, it was meant to be a short film — less than 10 minutes long — but after meeting my producer, Sam Soko, he saw a feature documentary in the little footage I had and then we continued to film the subject, Chris Nyathi, and the people in his life until 2024. In total, we spent seven years on the project, which included one year in the edit room. Motaung: Budget is normally a pain point for most filmmakers. What challenges did you have to overcome with this project? Kadandara: In general, I won't sugarcoat things. It's really hard to get funding for a film like Matabeleland because it doesn't fit into the typical boxes. Our characters are complex and challenge traditional notions held by, particularly, non-African audiences. Some funders wanted more victimhood or more politics in the film but we wanted to stay true to the portrait of African manhood. Now that the film is complete, and people are starting to view Matabeleland , it's evident — and by design — that this documentary resonates with African audiences and we are very happy about this. Matabeleland could not have been brought to life without the invaluable support of organisations such as Sundance, Brown Girls Doc Mafia, IDFA and Heinrich Böll Stiftung. Their contributions ensured this important story reached audiences who need to engage with its message. Motaung: With 17 children to support, and a girlfriend hinting about marriage, Chris Nyathi is under pressure. The doccie is essentially an ode to male blue-collar workers trying to support their families. What are your views on such hard-working men in our society? Kadandara: As African societies, there are a lot of expectations on men, and there's a lot of pressure to provide or perform. Being an African woman comes with its perils, but I believe I have more outlets to unburden myself, and we tend to share our struggles more in community. The same cannot be said for men; we don't allow our men to be vulnerable, blue-collar or not. And as a result, the people around them — their siblings, romantic partners and children — will often bear the brunt. In a recent community screening, male members of the audience talked about how all the pressure, with no release, can lead to suicide or substance abuse. But a film like Matabeleland can be a gateway for people, and specifically men, to open up, share about their experiences, and lighten the load of 'heavy logs' as Chris describes in the documentary. Motaung: Matabeleland is currently being showcased at this year's Encounters South African International Documentary Festival. How important is this for you as a filmmaker to participate in festivals? Kadandara: It's an amazing opportunity to showcase at any festival, and as a team, we've been really lucky to have had such great receptions from CPH: DOX in Denmark and now Encounters in South Africa. Showing our film at Encounters has been really special as we get to show Matabeleland on African soil to the very audiences this film is about and for. Even though we've just started showing the film on the continent, we've had such a great reception. People have come up to me and said they want to host impact screenings in their community that will be followed by conversations centred around healing, masculinity and intergenerational trauma. And, for me, that's how festivals can be a great launch pad for meaningful change beyond watching the film in a cinema. Matabeleland is screening at The Zone @ Rosebank, Johannesburg, this Saturday 28 June at 5.30pm.


eNCA
26-06-2025
- Entertainment
- eNCA
Documentary debuts at encounters international festival
JOHANNESBURG - The documentary Matabeleland debuts at the Encounters South African International Documentary Festival. It tells the haunting story of Chris Nyathi, a Zimbabwean man grappling with his father's unburied spirit and the trauma of over 20,000 lives lost. A powerful tale of healing and reconciliation, it speaks to all who have faced oppression.


Times
19-05-2025
- Politics
- Times
Zimbabwe's unsung hero on cricket's role in reuniting his nation
When Andy Flower and Henry Olonga made the brave decision to take a stand against what they called the 'death of democracy' in Zimbabwe during the 2003 World Cup, it was to their fellow countryman, David Coltart, they turned for advice and moral support. For his part, Coltart wanted to make sure the pair were going into it with their eyes wide open, fully aware of the possible consequences of making an enemy of a man such as Robert Mugabe. Coltart's eyes have been wide open in Zimbabwe for a long time. In the late 1990s, when he was called 'an enemy of the state' by Mugabe, he worked closely with the Catholic Commission for Justice and Peace, exposing human rights abuses in the Matabeleland a decade earlier. By turn a human rights activist, lawyer, politician, founding member of the Movement for Democratic Change and the present Mayor of Bulawayo, Coltart, 67, has stayed the course in his country, at significant personal risk. He says there have been five assassination attempts on his life. 'Mostly they have been tied to interfering with my motor vehicle. The most serious was in 2003 when my vehicle with two of my children was chased through the streets in Bulawayo and my security team saved me by intercepting what I think were military people with AK47s. I've had a further one [attempt] in the last two years when my brake lines were interfered with. So it continues.' Has he, or his family, ever thought about leaving the country? 'We've stayed. We've got four children. Nine grandchildren. They are all in the country. Our son is a human rights lawyer in Harare. He has been detained himself and tortured, but he keeps going. I was born there. My wife was born there. Our children were born here. It's our country, just as you would stay in Britain even if there was a tyranny here to try and resolve it. 'We are buoyed by the incredible goodwill, evidenced in my election as mayor. I'm white, a tiny minority in a city of 800,000 people, but I was voted in my own constituency with an 86 per cent majority and was unanimously elected as mayor. That's not a statement about me, but about the goodwill of black Zimbabweans. That is what sustains us. You have to walk the streets with me to see the level of goodwill and warmth. So we've never contemplated leaving.' Nevertheless, when Flower and Olonga approached him for advice on making their protest statement and playing with black armbands during that World Cup of 2003, he wanted to make them aware of the possible consequences. 'They sought a meeting with me and we met in my office at home. They wanted broad advice; there were terrible human rights violations going on. So I obviously tried to enable them. 'We worked through the issues but also the possible adverse consequences, so that they went into it fully prepared. They asked me to edit their statement so they let me have a first draft. I didn't change it dramatically, just sort of fine-tuned it and gave them advice [on] how to handle it. I've remained very close friends with them ever since. 'I have great admiration for them. It was a courageous thing. It adversely affected their cricketing careers. They both knew there would be a price to pay, particularly for Henry because he felt more under threat. It was an even higher price that Henry had to pay. Andy got wonderful coaching positions; Henry never really came back to cricket and he's fortunate that he's very talented in other areas.' Olonga now lives in Australia, pursuing a career as a singer. That period, when Flower and Olonga protested and England pulled out of their World Cup fixture in Zimbabwe, was a fitting place for our conversation in London last Friday to begin. Coltart was in town to promote the Street Child Cricket World Cup, a festival of cricket for street children the world over, which will be held in Bulawayo shortly before the 2027 Cricket World Cup. Zimbabwe will stage some matches alongside Namibia, with the bulk in South Africa, and staging the tournament again will bring the recent story of cricket in Zimbabwe full circle. In that gap of 22 years, the sport and the country have been through the wringer, something Coltart has witnessed in his various roles and as Minister for Education, Sports and Culture between 2009 and 2013 in a government of national unity. A brief sketch since Test status was granted would reveal the competitive years of the late 1990s; Test exile between 2005-11 and years of near administrative and financial collapse; and then a return to Test cricket and gradual recovery, to the point where Coltart describes cricket now as very much 'the national game'. It is hard to separate sport and politics in any discussion of Zimbabwe cricket, not least because of the political interference, which led to a suspension from the ICC in 2019, but also because of a parallel decline in each. It was impossible for a sport to flourish in a country with rampant hyperinflation, severe depression, restrictions on freedom of expression, and institutional failure resulting in societal collapse as evidenced by a devastating outbreak of cholera in 2008. While the game could not flower on such stony ground, the seeds were never quite extinguished. 'We had the second-highest inflation rate in the world in 2007 and 2008,' Coltart says. 'That was reflected in the cricket team. We were certainly in the top ten at one stage and had a team that you couldn't disregard. The catastrophic decline when players like Heath Streak left and a young team was left to pick up the pieces was a reflection of the country. We stabilised the country during the government of national unity and we stabilised cricket.' He adds, though, that the sport 'has never fully recovered'. Against the odds, cricket in the country staggered on to the point where, now, some optimism has returned. 'It is arguably the most popular game in Zimbabwe now and it's demonstrated in the crowds that we get and the incredible passion, especially among black Zimbabweans. And we rejoice in that,' Coltart says. Coming out of the worst of the Mugabe years, which ended in 2017, Zimbabwe's problems are still acute, with Human Rights Watch warning of the 'repression of civil and political rights' during the most recent election and 'abductions, arbitrary detention and torture' of political activists thereafter. Coltart has been, and continues to be, a stern critic but has always advocated for sporting connections, helping to bring Zimbabwe back into the Test fold in 2011, and aware of the power of sport to unite and bind. In Bulawayo, where Coltart has been mayor for just under two years, he says the talent is undeniable but the challenges after decades of neglect are real, with infrastructure outliving its economic lifespan and a deterioration in roads and services. 'We are stabilising it, and are making some progress, but it's years of neglect that needs to be undone. 'The other weakness is the state of our schools. Our schools have always been one of our strongest components of cricket, and although the independent schools are still strong; many of the government schools have collapsed. Milton in Bulawayo, which produced the likes of Pommie Mbangwa, and Plumtree, which produced Henry Olonga, need further investment to guarantee the flow of talent in future. 'If you came back to Queen's [the main ground in Bulawayo], it's in reasonable condition. The pitch is good. Ian Botham once said that if you could take any pitch around in your suitcase, it would be that one. But the stands are run down and it needs a coat of paint. It's emblematic of the city.' The World Cup will help, with matches and investment planned for Bulawayo (as well as Harare and a new stadium at Victoria Falls) and the attendant media and tourist interest attached to it. 'I love it [Bulawayo] with a passion. It's got great museums and great galleries. It is undermarketed as a tourist destination and people are not aware of its glories. I recently took the US ambassador biking on a trail in the Matobo Hills and she was blown away.' In relatively stable countries, where democracy is entrenched and civil society taken for granted, we see sport through a performance and personality lens, whereas more challenged societies recognise the essential power of it in a completely different, more fundamental way. 'When you look at the support for the Zimbabwean team now, it's enthralling. The terrible racism of the past in our country is gone when we are [watching cricket] at Queen's or in Harare. 'The support for a player like Sean Williams; black Zimbabweans don't care about the colour of his skin. We rejoice, as a white community, in Blessing Muzarabani [Zimbabwe's best fast bowler] and to that extent sport is a very powerful instrument in binding a nation together.' One of those brave and inspiring people that you meet from time to time on the periphery of sport, Coltart has played his part, too.