At about 6 in the evening of 13 January 1964, the second day of the "revolution"
my wife and I together with many other citizens, men and women, were gathered
in the Comorian Club which was at Kisiwandui, Zanzibar. That club at that
time had been turned into a concentration camp to which people could take
refuge from the attacks of the marauding "revolutionaries". Suddenly we
heard the door being violently banged. On opening the door three young
men rushed in. Two had rifles and one a pistol. This one was
a Zanzibari, named Ahmed Bushir Aboud and his companions were mainlanders.
First they took Sh Ameir Tajo and Sh Ali Ahmed Riyami. After a short time
they came and collected me (Aman Thani) and Sh Muhammad Aboud Mkandaa.
All my companions are already dead now. We were taken to the Raha Leo Civic
Centre Miafuni. That building had been turned into the Revolutionary Headquarters
during the time of the invasion. In the open ground in front of the building
there was a huge crowd of people, each one holding some sort of weapon
in his hand. Some had guns, others had machetes, axes, bows and arrows,
as well as spears. Others looked even fantastically ridiculous. They painted
their bodies and covered themselves with tree branches or any odd animal
skins. The same person would be having a gun dangling over his shoulder,
a spear in his one hand, and with another hand holding a machete with a
bow round his neck, and a pistol at his hip.
The Raha Leo building itself was filled with humanity, men and women
even little children and babies with their mothers. All had been taken
from their homes and brought in there ostensibly for their security. That,
if anything, was an indication that our houses were no longer secure places
to stay in. My companion, Muhammad Aboud Mkandaa, and I were taken inside
and kept apart. In that part where we were taken to were Issa Muhammad
Barwani, Mwinyi Nemshi and Omar Muhammad, who was the Secretary of the
Youths Own Union...
A short time after I was put there came a young man whom until that
time I never knew, and until now I have not been able to know, because
throughout my life I do not remember to have ever met him. That young man
wanted me to stand up. When I stood up he gave me such a slap on the face
that I saw stars. He began to assail me with fists and kicks, and twisted
my limbs to his full satisfaction. Then he ordered that I raise my arms
up and ordered his comrade: "Watch this man! He should not lower
his arms until I return. If he lowers his arms give him a bullet!"
I remained in that posture for a long time until the young man who
was commanded to guard me felt pity on me, and allowed me to relax for
a time. This further shows that the aim of the invasion is to persecute
and humiliate citizens. After some time came Comrade Ali Mahfoudh
and Comrade Badawi Qualatin. They ordered me, Muhammad Aboud Mkandaa,
Issa Muhammad and Mwinyi Nemshi to follow them. Ali Mahfoudh was in front
and Badawi behind us. We were in the middle. They marched us to the outside
of the building and then put us in a big pick-up. We were escorted by
eight guards, all of them with rifles and all of them together with the
driver were drunk.
The guards asked Comrade Ali Mahfoudh: "Whereto are these?"
Comrade Ali Mahfoudh said: "Take them to Kilimani. (Central prison
at Kiinua Miguu)."
PRISON EXPERIENCES
We arrived at the Central Prison, Kiinua Miguu, at about 10 at night. Comrade
Hemed Hilal who was at that time in charge of the prison received us. He
ordered us all to strip as at the time we were born. He had no respect
even for his elderly uncle Issa Muhammad. After they had searched us Comrade
Hemed ordered that we be sent to the security cells for detainees. We were
given coir mats measuring about four to five feet long and two to three
feet wide to sleep on. two sheets and a tin mug for drinking and toilet
ablution as well. Being thus equipped we were led by a sergeant to our
cells, Muhammad Aboud and I in one cells, while Issa and Mwinyi Nemsha
in another. That section had six cells, three cells on each side and a
corridor in between. Each cell was locked, and so was the section.
After the departure of the sergeant who had escorted us we heard
a voice coming from one of the cells: "Who are you, mates?" The voice was
not strange to our ears, but because of our bewilderment we did not recognize
it.
We asked: "And who are you?"
He replied: "I am Suleiman Said Kharusi, and in the next cell is
Sheikh Hamoud Ali Harthy, and in another cell is Sheikh Muhammad Idi Mjasiri
and in the last cell is my nephew Muhammad Ali Kharusi."
I then replied to him:: "I am Aman Thani, and my companion is Sheikh
Muhammad Aboud Mkandaa. We are in the second cell on the right coming from
the gate. Our other companions are Sheikh Issa Muhammad Barwani and Sheikh
Mwinyi Nemshi. They are in the last cell on the same right hand side."
We communicated with voices only; we did not see each other. In each
cell there were two buckets, one for toilet and the other for drinking
water. We were kept in those cells for two complete weeks without being
let out even for a minute. The guards took out the buckets and brought
in our food. At that time the prison was full of people who had been brought
in, allegedly for their safety. To provide room for us, victims of the
invasion, all former prisoners had been released. A cell which normally
accommodated six to eight inmates, was at this time occupied by 12 to 16
people. In addition to this others slept in the corridors. Ultimately a
large shed of wood and thatching was erected. Even this could not provide
enough accommodation. Other concentration camps were put up by the usurpers.
Some were put in schools, some in the rural prisons of Langoni and Kinu
Moshi, and even camps were opened on the Grave Island and Prison
Island to which more people were sent to be imprisoned "for their safety".
Because of the concentration of such humanity, and the absence of proper
sanitation, diarrhea and eye infections were of frequent occurrence.
During the first few months our families were permitted to
pay us visits and also to bring us food from our homes. But this did not
continue for long. Both privileges were stopped. At first Red Cross personnel
were allowed to see us; even these were later prohibited from visiting
us. Karume and his group after every meeting of theirs would pay visits
to prison camps and discharge those they chose to release. This went on
like that, until by 1st January 1965, that is about one year after the
invasion many citizens had been released from detention. A few, among whom
was I, remained in custody for what the invading usurpers liked to term
"their safety".
SENTENCED TO TEN YEARS
On 1st January 1965 at about ten o'clock in the morning, Karume, the President
of the usurper government of Zanzibar came to the prison accompanied by
his gang, the Council of Usurpers. On their arrival they found us waiting
for them in the fond expectation that we, like our mates before, would
now be released.
Karume came and faced us saying: "Today we have come to release
all of those who were put in here from the early days of the revolution."
No sooner had he uttered these words than we saw some of the members
of the Usurper Council hurriedly pulling themselves aside for consultation.
These included Ibrahim Makungu, Said Natepe, Seif Bakari and Khamis Darwesh.
After that they whispered to Karume. Immediately the situation changed.
They picked 25 of us aside. The remaining few were released. Karume and
his group then left without a word. After a time Prison Officer,
Oliver Fernandes came accompanied by Sergeant Nyankabwa and two other guards.
Oliver Fernandes in obvious embarrassment and his face looking down,
said: "The revolutionary council has decided to imprison each one of you
for ten years, beginning with this day of 1st January, 1965." On
hearing this pronouncement each one of us was covered with sweat. Not one
among us had ever dreamt that it was possible to be sentenced to imprisonment
for no offense that we had committed, and without being brought before
any court of law. We, the 25, were the first persons in the history of
the islands of Zanzibar ever to be sentenced to imprisonment without committing
any offense and without trial of any type. The world community should ask
Mwalimu Nyerere and those who call themselves "the progressive left" whether
this was the way to remove oppression and bring about equality? Did
the Sultans and those you call "feudalists" ever do half of what you have
been doing in your reign of terror?
We were shaved and were given prison uniforms. Our clothing and everything
of ours were taken away and kept by the prison authorities. We wept without
tears, and looked without seeing. We spoke without actually knowing what
we were saying. One of us, Sheikh Muhammad Rajab (Machungwa) had an attack
of dysentery passing blood, so embittered was he.
The following is the list of the first 25 Zanzibari nationals to
be sentenced to imprisonment without committing an offense and without
trial. This was the beginning of the system which has been in practice
with increasing barbarity ever since. For historical reasons the outside
world and our own children and grandchildren must know the names
of these 25 victims of totalitarian oppression:
Suleiman Sultan Malik
Hassan Usi
Walid Fikirini
Ali Issa Ali (Mataa)
Muhammad Rajab (Machungwa)
Haji Hussain Ahmed
Yahya Muhammad Ali Shambe
Hussain Bachu
Ramadhan Khamis
Shariff Abdul-Rahman Othman
Mzee Maalim Mwita
Rashid Muhammad Marjeby
Ali Raza Nathan (Ali Bomu)
Omar Hamad (Mkame Ndume)
Sheha Abdulqadir Thney
Sheha Suleiman Khamis
Ali Muhammad Suleiman
Wazir Ali bin Maalim
Mzee Ismail
Salim Said Halua
Nasser Muhammad
Hussein Jessa Bhaloo
Ali Mdungi
Ahmed Abdulqadir (Qullatain)
Aman Thani Fairooz
That indeed was a hard day for us. We could not eat. We stayed the
whole night without closing our eyes.
When it dawned the second day, i.e. 2nd of January 1965, after partaking
porridge of maize meal and a few beans we were taken to the Prison Commissioner.
At that time he was Commissioner Kilonzi. However the one who received
us was his assistant, Oliver Fernandes. He opened for us a large register
in which were kept the names of prisoners, their convictions and their
sentences. When we looked at it, we found our names already registered,
together with our convictions and sentences as well as the court which
had tried and sentenced us and the magistrate who had tried our case.
The statements as recorded in the registers were as follows:
Our offense:
Instigating to overthrow the People's government.
Magistrate who tried the case
Commander of the National Army
Sentence
Ten years (beginning with 1st January, 1965 to 31st December, 1974)
What sort of government was this which so shamelessly and without
any conscience invented such lies against its own defenseless citizens!
We were imprisoned without committing any offense, without being tried
by anyone, and without being sent to any court of law. What instigation
could we be guilty of when we had been in their custody from the very day
of the "revolution" until the day when we were sentenced to ten years imprisonment
on 1st January 1965? During the whole period so far of the existence of
the "People's Government" we had been in their custody.. And whom did we
try to instigate? We were ordered to put our thumb marks on the register,
and we did. We had no alternative. After this we were taken away from the
central prison and sent to the rural prison of Langoni, about 10 miles
away.
During the colonial days no prisoner was made to work until after
being examined and declared fit by a qualified doctor (not a nurse). The
doctor's orders regarding the type of work that a prisoner was capable
of were irrevocable. When, however, came the rule of those who style
themselves "fighters for the rights of the underdog and establishers of
equality" everything changed. The sick, the healthy, the young, the aged
and even the lame - all were compulsorily and equally made to work, without
even being examined by even a nurse, let alone a doctor.
Work that had to be done in the rural prison of Langoni and Kinu
Moshi was hard indeed, requiring people who were in very good health. The
work entailed hand-hoeing cultivation, cutting down huge trees like mango
and jack-fruit trunks, uprooting coconut palms, cutting and piling up the
heavy logs etc. It also entailed stone breaking, weeding cassava and rice
fields etc.
A PRISONER'S TASKWORK
To make ridges for cassava planting, each prisoner was expected to do a
ridge and a half a day. That is to say he had to make one by himself and
the next one with the help of another prisoner. Each ridge measured
150 yards in length, one yard wide and one yard in height. To cultivate
a rice field, each prisoner was allotted a specific area. The area for
each prisoner was 150 to 200 yards in length and three yards wide.
To uproot coconut palms, each prisoner was given a task to uproot and cut
into sizable logs two or three palms. To quarry stones, three prisoners
were expected to quarry enough stones to fill a measure, the measure being
eight feet in length, four feet wide and five feet high.
The trick to get that measure filled with stones was the killer task
of a prisoner. If you were to fill it within the period allotted you would
have to quarry huge boulders. Having dug such boulders four of you had
to carry each boulder to put it on the shoulders of one prisoner, the fifth
one. The distance between the quarry and the measure was about ten yards,
all full of holes and thorns. We had to tread that path barefooted. Imagine
how a man would walk along such a path with a huge rock on his shoulder
without tripping, and if you tripped that was the end of you or at least
your leg.
Over and above these hard tasks imposed on the persecuted prisoners
there were punishments inflicted for failing to fulfill the tasks that
were set for us everyday. It was quite normal for a prisoner to fall short
of his allotted task. Hence regularly prisoners were punished for failing
to finish their work. Punishments were as follows:
Prisoners who could not complete their tasks in time would have to
continue with their work while their mates who had finished theirs returned
to the camp to receive their ration of food and to take some rest.
If by evening they did not complete their tasks then they would not
be allowed to take bath or even to clean themselves of mud and dust. They
would also be receiving half their ration for the day. Full ration
for each prisoner was one and a half ounce in the morning, and three and
a half ounce for lunch. Contrast this with the ration that was given during
the reigns of the Sultans. At that time lunch was 16 ounces, i.e. one pound.
But now even with full ration we used to sleep hungry, let alone at half
ration!
On some occasions for failing to complete one's task we would be
totally deprived of food. We went to bed without a meal. I myself
failed to complete my task because I had a high fever. Although the doctor
ordered me to rest, the prison officer overruled the doctor's order. and
instructed me to work even though I was sick. As a result I collapsed when
I was cultivating in the field and I could not go on working. Although
I was in that condition I received no medical treatment nor even pity.
Instead I was given two punishments together. I was not allowed to take
a wash or even to clean myself of the mud and sweat. I was also denied
any ration, not even a quarter! The next day I was sent to work with the
rest of the gang as usual. That was not peculiarly my lot, it was common
practice for all political prisoners. I do not know which type of prisoners,
and in what country, under what regime such treatments were meted out to
prisoners in the twentieth century, in countries which have attained their
Freedom! These happenings took place in the twentieth century under Nyerere
and Karume, when Human Rights are supposed to be universal. The victims
were the people of Zanzibar and Tanganyika. These happenings were known
to the international community, and yet no one raised his little finger
to protest as if the victims were not human beings at all. Animals have
their rights to be protected, let alone human beings. Mwalimu Nyerere did
all this and more without any sense of embarrassment or shame. Mwalimu
is sacrosanct in the eyes of the world. He can do what he wills.
PRISON TORTURES
Until now I cannot make up my mind whether the wicked deeds inflicted on
us who were called political prisoners were as instructed by the usurping
government leaders or were merely the device of the officer in charge of
prisons out of his own hatred. It is certain, however, that the authorities
were indeed aware of what was taking place. Not once did they take any
step to deny them or to put a stop to them. Hence it is clear that they
wanted that we should be so treated. If any prisoner, called political,
fell ill and the prison doctor recommended that he be sent to hospital
to be examined by a senior medical officer, he would not be sent.
If there was any difficult task to be done the first people to be sent
to tackle it were the "political" prisoners. Any allegation
made by an ordinary prisoner against a political one was believed in without
question, even if there were any number of witnesses to the contrary. In
short the so-called political prisoners were subjected to special ill-treatment
and injustice even under prison terms..
We were called "political prisoners" because the usurping authorities
gave themselves the power to imprison their fellow human beings by a mere
suspicion, indeed often without any suspicion at all, and without sending
them to court. Such a person the powers that be labeled a "political prisoner"
and subjected him to all injustices and degradation. We formed a much larger
number of prison inmates than the ordinary inmates who were tried and sentenced
by courts. And what courts were they which were presided by fish mongers
and embroiders of white caps who were entitled "magistrates".
My life and the lives of all my mates were made miserable and
unbearable. In every aspect we were regarded as subhuman. In spite of all
that God Most Merciful gave us the power and patience to face those difficulties.
RELEASED FROM PRISON
There is an end to everything. All that begins comes to an end, as the
Swahilis say there is no length that has no end. The poet says:
Akushutuo wewe sishutuke
Yupi awezao kukwetea lake
Watu wana yao M'ngu ana lake
Do not be terrorized by the terrorist
Who indeed can cause you harm?
Men have their plots, but God has his.
On 10th January 1967, coinciding with 28th Ramadhan, at about 4 in the
afternoon all of us who were called political prisoners at Langoni were
gathered together with those from the Kinu Moshi prison nearby. Two prison
vehicles arrived. We were all transported to the central prison at Kilimani
in the town. We arrived there as the siren was being sounded at sunset.
We performed the ritual ablution, said our prayers and broke our fast,
for all of us, thanks to God, had been fasting during the daylight hours.
After that we were left waiting in the corridor between the rows
of cells. We were let to stay there until we had said our Tarweih prayers,
We were then locked in the cells.
On 11th January, that is 29th Ramadhan, at about 9 in the morning,
Karume and his gang of the Usurper Council arrived, and found us already
awaiting his decision regarding our fate. On one hand we entertained hope
that haply this gathering was for our release, and on the other our hearts
were pounding fearing lest some of us would not be released. Every one
of us was mumbling silent prayers to God for a release. Indeed we had little
hope that all of us would be set free.
Karume came straight to where we were and told us: "Today we have
come for the purpose of discharging you from prison so that you may go
and celebrate with your families the Eid-el-Fitr festival and the National
Revolution Day. We are pleased to have received a favourable report on
your stay in prison, that you behaved well and obeyed all the orders and
instructions given to you by those concerned. Therefore you are all
released, and everyone of you will be given one thousand shillings with
which you and your children may enjoy the Festival. However, I warn you
and I want you to behave well outside. If, however, you get involved with
gangs of trouble-makers, and you get arrested and brought here in prison
then your punishment will be death, and no other. Goodbye"
Our group which was released that day consisted of 24 men. One of
us, Mzee Mwita had been released some six months earlier. By the time we
were discharged, poor man had already departed from this earth. He had
been a sick old man even at the time of his arrest and imprisonment.
The day we were released was a momentous day in our lives Undoubtedly
to have your denied right reinstated is something tremendous, how
much more when that right is your personal Freedom!
After the departure of Karume and his gang of thugs we were taken
to the Victoria Gardens where was the office of Sh Abdulla Musa Mfuahaya.
It was he who gave us the allowance of 1000 shillings each. After that
we were taken to the central prison to receive our clothing and discarded
the prison uniforms. We then exchanged farewells among ourselves who had
been together undergoing imprisonment for all that time. Before leaving
the prison there came the Chief of Security, Hassan Mandera, and wanted
everyone of us to sign a special document in which among other things was
written "If I commit the same offense again, my punishment will be to be
shot in public!" Each one of us signed on the dotted line without question
and without hesitation. When we got out of the prison gates we were met
with a crowd of our relatives and friends waiting to receive us. We embraced
one another while they gave us words of comfort and prayers. Then everyone
was taken away home by his family.
When I arrived home I found the house filled with people, for the
news of our imminent release had spread throughout. the town. People wept
with relief and pleasure filling the house with cries, and every minute
crowds came in and crowds went out in uncontrollable jubilation at our
release from torment. As far as we were concerned that was indeed a great
day for various reasons, but especially because of the return of
our personal freedom which had been denied us for 1095 days, that is three
years and more as prisoners of Nyerere and Karume. Secondly because we
had been separated from our people without committing any offense but purely
as an unwarranted act of persecution, that day we were overwhelmed that
we were at last able to reunite with our people. Thirdly we were able to
partake our last evening meal in Ramadhan, breaking fast on the items of
food we had been longing for, and dreaming of, and which our people could
devise for our enjoyment. Fourthly we were able to celebrate the Eid-el-Fitr
Festival in freedom with our families. Fifthly we were able to go to bed
without having gates closed against us, without guards watching over us,
and to wake up when we wanted without having to be aroused by a bell.
That was the sweetness and blessing of personal freedom, the freedom that
should be inherent and inalienable for every human being, nay for every
creature. The pangs of humiliation that I felt that day - which was not
the feeling that I alone felt but that of some of my former prison mates
as well - was to be denied by our young children who did not know us. This
was the first time they saw us. When I was taken to become a "political
prisoner" my eldest child was two and a half years old, and the second
was one year old., and the third was in the womb to be born three months
after the invasion. Other feelings of sadness and estrangement that I felt
when I came out of prison was to find that the people in general
were living in a state of terror, fear and great uncertainty. No one knew
what calamity would befall him any moment. No one trusted another, even
his own brother or his own child or parent! Members of the same family
were talking in whispers in their own homes. Jealousy, envy and intrigue
were rampant and commonplace. Nationals, particularly those of Arab, Indian
or Comorian ancestry and those who were known supporters of ZNP/ZPPP
were kicked out of their jobs without any of their due rights even
though they might have been working for the government for years. Conditions
of life being such and getting worse with every day that passed many decided
to escape from their country leaving their children and homes in
search of security and a better life abroad. Indeed it was a sorry spectacle
to see our beloved country in such a state. Even a stranger coming in for
the first time could see that the country was in mourning.
I FLEE TO DAR-ES-SALAAM
As a result of the conditions that prevailed in our country I also decided
to flee the country. On 10th June, 1967 I left Zanzibar to go and live
in Dar-es-Salaam. There I was received by brother Mzee Muhammad Mbaba.
We stayed together for a considerable time. After obtaining a job I moved
to my own home, but we were most of the time together for conversation
and consultation. After settling down I brought my family to Dar
and we lived together.
But woe is me! I did not know that I had run away from the butchers
and came to the cannibals! After sixteen months stay in Dar-es-Salaam
that is from June 1967 to September 1958 suddenly at past midnight at about
one thirty a.m. the door of our house was banged with a mighty force. When
I opened the door seven men rushed in. Five of the men wore police uniforms
and held clubs in their hands, and two wore civilian dresses, that is shirts
and trousers. These two held pistols in their hands. As soon as they entered
they asked me:
"What is your name?"
I told them: "Aman Thani".
One of those wearing civilian dress told me: "From now on you are
under arrest. You are in the custody of the Police."
I asked them: "For what offense?"
I was told: "You will be told when you reach the Police Headquarters."
I asked their permission to let me dress, for at that time I was
only in a vest and a loin cloth. I entreated them until they yielded and
they asked my wife to bring me my clothing. I was able to put on
a shirt and trousers. When I wanted to put on a pair of socks and shoes,
one of the policemen caught hold of the shoes and said: "You will put them
on outside in the car."
I was led out leaving my wife and my one-year baby in a strange land
in the middle of the night. What humiliation! When I got out I found two
police cars. I was put into one of them. The one who took my shoes
entered the other car. Having reached the Police H.Q. I was searched. As
I was being searched I told the policeman who was searching me that my
shoes and socks had been taken by one of the policemen who had come to
arrest me, but I did not see him now. Could I have my shoes and socks?
The answer that I got from the man who was searching me was: "That has
nothing to do with me. When he comes he will give you your shoes."
I was removed from there and taken to the detention cells. There
I met other Zanzibaris already collected. Every so often more and more
were brought in until we were seventeen. All, except one, were Zanzibaris.
That one was a Tanganyikan who had never been to Zanzibar. Many of those
Zanzibaris had left their country years back and were living in Dar-es-Salaam.
Some had been living and working in Tanganyika for as long as 40
years. Some of us did not even know one another. The whole night through
we stayed awake, not one of us so much as dozed. We asked each other -
and no one had an answer - why had we been arrested? What crime had we
committed?
At about eight in the morning there came to us a sergeant accompanied
by another policeman. He told the policeman: "Get these people special
tea." After a time the man brought us tea in pots with cups, milk, bread
and butter. It was indeed a proper breakfast, very much different from
what we saw others were given who were in police custody for other reasons.
We asked the policeman who brought us breakfast, why was ours so different
from what others were given.
The policeman replied: "It is true that although you are all in custody,
you are political detainees, and those are on remand for criminal charges.
There must be difference between the two."
On hearing the word "political" our hearts sank. We then understood
what the word "special" meant. We looked at each other, with everyone's
heart filled with fear. We asked each other what politics had we indulged
in? In short we failed to answer ourselves any question.
At twelve thirty noon they brought us excellent pilaw rice. After
partaking lunch we were taken to an office where they took our finger prints.
We were then put in a big police van and taken straight to a military airfield
where two officers who did not wear uniform took charge of us. After a
short time we were put in a military craft of the "Caribou" type. Three
policemen with pistols in their hands accompanied us. Half an hour after
take-off we arrived at Zanzibar airport. There Zanzibar prison guards took
over, and we were driven straight to the central prison at Kiinua Miguu.
On arrival at the prison we had our names registered, and then met
with the Prison Commissioner, Adam Taib who told us: "My brethren! I have
been told to take you in and keep you until the big bosses come. I know
nothing more. Therefore ask me nothing. What I ask of you is to stay in
peace until the arrival of the bosses themselves. Then you will know everything."
Until our arrival in Zanzibar the policeman who had taken from me
my shoes and socks never appeared to return my property. I wonder what
security could there be in a country where it was the policemen whose job
was to suppress crimes were themselves thieves. Could a citizen expect
justice from such people?
