KEY POINTS:
Sitting on the couch braiding her young daughter's hair, the woman chooses her words carefully as she speaks of life back in Zimbabwe.
"When I was growing up, I never saw it_it wasn't like that. There was a time when Zimbabwe wasn't like how it is now_when I was at school. Maybe because I was a child at school and I didn't realise it.
"It's like somebody blew something evil over it."
She's a young mother with a sick child, struggling to survive in a new homeland. They left Zimbabwe_which they still refer to as "home"_ just over a year ago, fed up, tired and fearful of the violence that surrounded them each day.
She can't be identified because she fears her family back home may be targeted and killed, as well as her. There's a real danger for that happening, she tells me.
Her work permit expired months ago and they're struggling to survive. But she stresses that they can't go back _ ever.
"I just can't. If we go back, we'll probably die anyway. If things were coming to be better, I would've gone home. But no.
"We've been here for a year and about three months. We left because of the problems back home, because of the situation and what's happening_the political struggle.
"People have been beaten up, killed, everything has been done. All women have been raped, kids have have been raped. They're just monsters. They've got a mind of their own. When I pray, I pray for the people back home. I pray that this will all be over soon. I pray for them."
They surround the television each day, watching the news and seeing more of the torment which Mugabe is bringing to those back home. She never liked Mugabe. She pauses, remembering the fear the people live with, due solely to the one man.
"I've seen him a couple of times, at rallies, when he's talking. He's an educated man you know. He seems to be quite clever, but he is quite intimidated, because he rules by force. And that's why he has to cling by power. He's intimidated because he knows people are against him. People have lost their lives.
"A lot of people support Tsvangirai. He's done a lot. But he can't sacrifice himself for the country you know. He has a family too, I understand that."
She stops, pausing to look at her daughter, before continuing with the next braid.
"My mum is sick. She can't get any medication and there's no way for her to get medication.
"My parents don't want to leave home. It's like that. With our African parents, if you take them away from their friends and their home, they're lost."
Her daughter shuts her eyes tight, trying hard not to wince as her mother tightly braids her hair.
"I can't send her to school," her mother says. "I can't even afford the school uniform. She has to stay home because of the heavy rain, the bad weather, you know. I only have the [summer] uniform and it's too cold and wet for her to go _ the school's very strict about the uniform.
"Can you just imagine you're in a foreign country and you're sick, with a sick child and no money? There's nothing worse than not knowing where your child's next meal will come from. I just don't know what will happen.
"The immigration and my sickness _ it's doing my head in. I'm trying to get my work permit back, so I can get a job, get money to support my daughter. I don't want to be dependent. Maybe I'll die before they take me home. Nobody can take me alive to that place. I'll live for as long as God wants me to live for. I just wish a miracle could happen."
- Interviewed by Vaimoana Tapaleao
***
I left Zimbabwe in February 2003. Anyone who had a mind could see that things were coming to the stage where there was going to be a freefall. The country was going to be in ruins.
I was in Harare, working as an engineer. I played a major role in the formation of the MDC [the opposition Movement for Democratic Change] in 2000, but because of my job I could not publicly take a position within politics.
Mugabe had started the chaotic land redistribution programme. Morgan Tsvangirai was heading the labour movement and he came out to say he was wanting to form a political party.
Lots of us were encouraging him, saying we needed political representation for the labour movement and that, him being a popular leader, he should front it. He agreed with that. The student movement was also involved, there were a lot of people involved.
I had not been involved in politics before because there was no credible opposition party, it was a one-party state.
During those three years when I was involved, I had encounters with Mugabe's intelligence organisation, the CIO, and I saw that my life was in danger.
At one time I had just come out of an MDC meeting at one of the hotels.
The CIO operatives had planted themselves in the hotel carpark, waiting to pounce on us. I only noticed them when I was close to my car. I made a quick dash to my car and by the time they tried to rush over, I was already in it and managed to drive away.
By then, things were still okay. All they would have done if they had got me would have been to seek information on the construct of the MDC and its agenda, of course under torture.
They never managed to catch me but some of my mates were caught and tortured. Some days there were cars following me.
Just before the 2002 parliamentary elections, Zanu-PF [Mugabe's party] thugs painted my security wall, saying my residence was an MDC residence.
It was a concrete wall and I couldn't paint it out, I had to take it down and put up a new fence.
You became so strong to know that it was more intimidation than anything else, to frighten you into submission. You just had to live with it.
During the election period the Intelligence, youth militia and uniformed forces were posted all over the country to inflict violence on MDC members. I realised how defenceless I was against Mugabe's forces of brutality and had to leave my country for my own personal safety and the ever-present risk to my family.
I have two kids. They were very young then. Like all women, my wife didn't want me to be involved. She didn't want the trouble because I had a very secure life and career. But I was doing it for the good of my people.
I left the country in February 2003. Because there were no visa restrictions on Zimbabweans coming into New Zealand, I came in as a tourist and got a good job under the skilled migrant category. I had to save up and after one year I brought my family over.
My feelings about what's happening at home have been changing by the day because it's been a rollercoaster.
Before Tsvangirai pulled out [of this weekend's run-off election], we all wanted him to be involved. We knew Mugabe was going to rig it as much as he possibly could, but because Tsvangirai had announced that he was going to be in the run-off, he had to be in it till the end.
At this moment I'm saying no, I can't support him any more because he has proved to be a coward. I felt let down, very much let down.
With a week to go till the election, he pulls out, after lots of his supporters have been murdered and tortured and displaced, after the people have endured that pain.
I have my mother, my brothers and sisters still at home, and the tormented and suffering people of Zimbabwe are family to me. I talked to my sisters yesterday. They could not say much over the phone because they don't know whether the phones are bugged.
Everybody is suspicious of everyone around them.
They are angry with Tsvangirai's move because they are going to have to come out and vote anyway. From what they are telling me, the Zanu-PF people are telling people that everyone will have to vote. When you go and vote you have to take a PIN number so they will know who you voted for.
You feel sick, especially when you are here and things that you never anticipated to go this far are now a reality. It makes you feel angry. It makes you feel sad. You are saying, ``What can I do?'
You can write letters to Zanu-PF, to Mugabe, to the United Nations, you can go and talk to Helen Clark to say ``intervene'. But that will not come to anything.
If you look at the neighbouring countries, who is going to intervene? They all know how strong the Zimbabwe Army is.
You have to understand the mindset of an African. We have just seen xenophobic attacks on Zimbabweans in South Africa, so if [South African President] Thabo Mbeki said he was going to intervene militarily, I would say people would ask him to step down, because South Africans are saying, ``Zimbabweans, go and sort out your problems back home, don't bring your problems here.'
So it can only be Zimbabweans who can remove Mugabe. Right now we are blaming Tsvangirai because he's been in opposition politics for almost 10 years and up till now he's got no military wing to back him up.
There are 3000 Zimbabweans in New Zealand. There are three million in South Africa, one million in Britain and another million spread across the [world].
My suggestion to Zimbabweans is that we should unite and seek practical approaches. Talk and talk and talk over talks will not get us anywhere, Mugabe and his junta will continue inflicting violence upon those who [differ] because they know we are harmless and powerless.
My suggestion is: let's approach our host governments for military training so that we can go back and fight for freedom.
If I could get training, I would not take another minute to think about it. It has to be done. If that costs my life, then let it be. We are talking about the lives of millions of people who are not empowered to do anything about it.
If I can fight for freedom, I'd rather do it than have a whole generation of people who are never going to see what democracy truly means.'
- Interview by Simon Collins
