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A widow mourns her husband. And a nation weeps forits dreams

Mary Braid
Wednesday 26 April 2000 00:00 BST
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She came carrying her twin boys, determined to smile, in what has become a heroic effort to claw back meaning from the torture and murder of her husband. And for most of the hour-long memorial service in Harare yesterday, Maria, 38, wife of the farmer David Stevens, succeeded.

It must have been hell for the slight brunette to sit in the front row with her little boys, Sebastian and Warren - who turned two last weekend - and her other children, Marc, 15, and Brenda, 13, the focus of flashing, clicking cameras. But she did it.

For Mrs Stevens knows her husband's death is part of the wider tragedy being played out in Zimbabwe. She knows it could even influence events, which is why the international press joined 700 mourners, mainly from white farming families, in a packed hall next to an agricultural showground for an emotional goodbye to Mr Stevens.

More than that, Maria Stevens, who is Swedish, saw it out with defiance. She did not flinch from the lens. She stared at it, head high. She seemed to be staring out fate and wanton violence and even President Robert Mugabe's Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front (Zanu-PF) government, which has sanctioned the nationwide reign of terror by "war veterans" who not only beat and tortured Mr Stevens, 50, to death but are providing a smokescreen for a wider campaign of violence against Zimbabwe's main opposition party, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC).

It was only when the music she had chosen for Mr Stevens - the sound track, peculiar to every couple, against which courtship, marriage and childbirth are played out - that she momentary lost it. The songs were anthems more of her husband's generation than hers - Joni Mitchell, The Eagles singing "End of Innocence", Eric Clapton "Knocking on Heaven's Door". And by the time they played "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?", she was crying. One of the twins dabbed his mother's eyes and then his own.

It was a mainly white affair. How could it be otherwise? The 200 workers who were chased off Arizona, the Stevens's farm, over a week ago by the "war veterans" demanding land have scattered to the wind. The "war veterans" have turned the farm into their local headquarters. The Stevens's barns and their tobacco have been burnt.

No one has been arrested in connection with Mr Stevens's murder. It is unlikely anyone occupying his compound has been interviewed by police who are, at best, standing by while crimes are committed and, at worst, taking part. But why would they intervene, given the pronouncements of the government?

As the memorial service took place the opposition Daily News was reporting that Zimbabwe's Vice-President, Simon Muzenda, told a weekend rally that David Stevens and Martin Olds, the other white farmer killed last week, had "provoked war veterans" and that "it should not be regretted".

Yesterday, Terje Bjerkholt, the Norwegian priest who took the service, begged police to bring the murderers to justice. "They have to be brought forward, not for the sake of revenge... but for justice. It is necessary for the soul of this country to see justice is done."

Mr Stevens had believed in justice. He had been a strong supporter of black majority rule in the country. He had moved to Harare from his native South Africa in the middle of Zimbabwe's independence war. But he had become disillusioned with Zanu-PF. "He'd a strong sense of justice and did not think that the government had the people's interests at heart," said Lee Mackie, a friend of the family.

Mr Stevens's "crime" was to support the opposition MDC, the first real challenge to Mr Mugabe's one-party state in years. He did so publicly, going well beyond lending mobile phones and cars, as other farmers do. The week before the attack on his farm he had allowed an MDC rally in his compound.

Yesterday, Welshman Ncube, the MDC secretary general, was one of the few black faces in the crowd. But with black farm workers and MDC activists and supporters being relentlessly attacked to prevent them voting against Mr Mugabe - if the President ever honours his obligations to call elections - few had been expected.

But their suffering did not go unmentioned. Farmers will tell you they know their suffering is nothing compared to that being endured by black Zimbabweans. Mr Bjerkholt said that the family had strong reasons to believe that Mr Stevens's foreman, Julius Andoche, had been murdered on the same day as his boss, although Mr Andoche's body was not found until a week later. A special prayer was offered for the dead foreman's wife, Cheros, and their five children.

On the terrace overlooking the farm showground, after the service, the talk was all of invasion and attack. Many farmers are too terrified to give interviews but Jenny Whaley, a wiry old woman "just the right side of 70" who farms in Hwedza, south-east of Harare, is made of stern stuff.

She does not hesitate to say she supports the opposition. Last week her farm was invaded. Zanu "war veterans" set up mock courts for workers they identified as MDC supporters. Then the beatings began.

All night Mrs Whaley could hear the violence and, safe behind her electric fence, she says there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

On her way to yesterday's memorial she dropped the 15-year-old daughter of one of her staff at the hospital. "She was walking better," she says delicately. The girl was raped in the attack.

Blacks are suffering the most but fear now does not discriminate between black and white. Yesterday, the five men who tried to rescue Mr Stevens from the "war veterans" were at the service. They were reluctant to talk.

John Osborne, 49, a bruise showing beneath his glasses, would only say he had come to say goodbye to a friend. Ian Hardy was pushed into the service in a wheelchair, his shorts exposing a carpet of bruises on his legs. He, too, was tight-lipped but when he was asked if he saw any future for his family in Zimbabwe he could not hold back. "No," he said. "I don't," while his wife whispered "Be careful what you say" behind him.

And what of Mrs Stevens? She and her children are staying in Harare with friends. She has said she does not want to give up on the country she adopted when she met her husband 17 years ago. But her friends say they know it is far too early for her to reach a decision. "She is a fantastic girl, braver than us all," said Lee Mackie. "But the truth is that none of us can quite comprehend what is happening here."

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