Below are pictures of the 500+ victims of political violence staying in MDC's headquarters - which, as most offices are, are intended for office work, not as a boarding house. However, after being beaten, threatened, chased and burned out of their homes, many of these individuals fled to Harare with no where else to go but the MDC headquarters. Many were separated from the rest of their families, many narrowly escaping death, and when narrowly escaping death, one's first instinct is to get out, to survive, and get to safety as quickly as possible, seeking out the particulars of their family's whereabouts was a luxury few of them had. To get to Harare, some walked from their rural homes, some found public transportation that would take them, as some drivers were ordered not to pick up injured individuals, some found compassionate individuals that would take them to hospitals, or into the city center.
Broken, despondent, and in great pain, these individuals would arrive at the MDC headquarters, as many as 50 - 60 a day, seeking assistance and safety. However, they would soon notice that both of these needs could not be fully attended to by the MDC. This did not happen due to the MDC's neglect; most volunteers and employees stayed day and night at the offices trying to figure the situation out; many slept there with the survivors; working as long as 15 hours a day. They simply did not have the facilities or the infrastructure to deal with so vast a crisis.
In the realms of safety, MDC headquarters was not the first choice. The MDC headquarters were in constant threat of a raid; at any moment all inhabitants could be arrested for no reason, with no warrant, for doing nothing wrong but trying to save their lives, and aligning themselves with the MDC, that was their major crime. In prison the individuals could face any level of interrogation and possibly, though it did not happen very often, torture. So these individuals are not safe in their own homes, are beaten, have lost their children, their homes, all their worldly possessions, go to the city for safety and are in constant threat of being abducted or arrested at any moment. Therefore, these individuals are still living in constant fear, uncertainty and instability.
Once one is able to settle in a little bit, they are often very hungry; having spent days trying to get to Harare and escape from Zanu PF. When they arrive they do receive food, however only once a day, as there is an MP in the city and fellow party members that come and serve food. I talked with one individual who was a diabetic, and did not have enough money to pay for his insulin or to even buy enough food to have a full stomach when taking the insulin. I read a letter written to the MDC by the Avenues clinic urging him to get a steady supply of insulin and a regular supply of food to stop his fainting spells, however, the problem was there were many mouths to feed, not very much money, and this was only one person, they simply could not attend to this individuals specific needs. This was a constant problem the MDC faced when needing to provide these survivors with basic amenities such as food, clothes, blankets and clothes; there were simply no funds.
Thankfully, they were in contact with many organizations who were better set up for this kind of a situation, and were able to connect needy individuals with these organizations. For example, all hospital bills were paid for by specific organizations; and many who originally arrived at MDC's doorstep were sent to alternative lodging provided by these organizations where they would be provided with food, blankets and clothes - three very necessary very basic things that the MDC could not adequately provide. This was a positive thing, however, organizing the specifics of these opportunities took longer than would be desired, leaving many still at the office with basic needs not met.
In addition to this spot being unsafe, and without adequate amenities it is also unsanitary - there are no bathing facilities in the MDC headquarters, as few office spaces do, therefore these individuals spend weeks without bathing, wearing the clothes they escaped with weeks before. A mother I talked with showed me her one year old baby who she had no pants or bottoms of any kind for. Because of the lack of bathing, having 500+ individuals living in an enclosed space at any rate creates high risk for disease of all kinds, specifically cholera and TB. Some children had been sent to the hospital for respiratory infections and diarrhea.
By the time I visited the offices, at least a month after individuals started pouring in, the floors were covered in dirt, completely filthy as is represented in one of the photos I displayed here, the walls had become very grimy, the once well maintained office space had been transformed into a refugee camp. The lucky few who had belongings lined them along the wall; make shift beds were created with random pieces of wood and other found items; anything but what one would usually find as a part of a bed, such as blankets, no inhabitants of the Harvest House, the MDC headquarters, owned a blanket. Survivors taken in by civil society organizations and churches and those taken to hotels or to individual's homes at least had that luxury. However, in the increasingly cold winter nights the inhabitants of the MDC harvest house, including the elderly, women and children had to sleep on the cold, hard, filthy office floors with no blankets. Of all the tribulation residing at the Harvest House, what will forever stay with me is the smell that attacked any one who entered. Looking back, it was probably a very accurate smell for 500+ people living in very enclosed quarters for weeks without baths. I have withstood a lot of wretched smells, including a mountainous trash heap in Cambodia, but there was something very difficult to handle about this smell, maybe because it was the smell of neglect, one that could have very easily been avoided, and now festers, and this was the smell of the festering. For no individual can be neglected this much, maltreated this much without it starting to stink. Just like a dirty dish left alone for too long, it stinks, it grows mold, it fights back, it makes you take notice, makes you do something about it ( I apologize for comparing human lives to dirty dishes, found it a good analogy.). And, I believe, that is what this smell will do for me, for it has stayed with me, it is still a part of the back pack I used while there, it cries out in a way survivors cannot, for they are battered and beaten, their spirits weakened, their psyches tortured, their minds petrified; they no longer know who to trust to cry to if they have the will to cry at all. But this smell, it is the smoking gun of suffering in Zimbabwe, something that stays when all other evidence is hidden. Yes, indeed, the stones are crying out, they will not be concealed.