Online Reporter
Veronica Gwaze
IT is a sunny workday, and prison officers and inmates at the Harare Central Prison are busy with their daily activities.
The date is May 31, 2002, and what starts as a normal day for virtually everyone at the facility suddenly takes a nasty twist.
A prison officer, who cannot be named for ethical and work-related reasons, finds himself confronted with a task that would leave him carrying a lifetime wound in his heart.
The officer had just escorted and witnessed the execution of Zimbabwe’s arguably most infamous criminals, Stephen Chidhumo and Edgar Masendeke. To this day, he still finds it difficult to describe his experience of that particular day.
Rising to infamy in the mid-90s, Chidhumo and Masendeke became inarguably the most dreaded criminals in Zimbabwe.
By the time of their final sentences, Chidhumo was charged with 24 counts of various crimes and sentenced to an effective 30-year prison term. However, after escaping from prison and later being recaptured, he was handed a death sentence.
Masendeke, then aged 23, pleaded guilty to 38 charges ranging from rape to murder and was sentenced to death.
When they were executed, Chidhumo was 35, while Masendeke had turned 28.
It has been exactly 22 years since the prison officer witnessed that execution, and the wound brought by the grisly act is still fresh in his mind. The scar is a testament that the actual price paid by the families of executed individuals is way more than assumed.
“It was my first time witnessing an execution. My second one was in 2005, which also became the country’s last,” he gazed into space.
“I escorted the inmates into the gallows and watched helplessly as everything happened. I was emotionally disturbed and struggled for a long time.”
The recent tour of Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison’s execution gallows marked the first time in over two decades that the officer opened up about the horrific experience.
While he unpacked the heart-wrenching ordeal, the officer would pause mid-conversation, visibly drifting into deep thoughts. Twice, he even attempted to change the subject, just to avoid the chat with the writer.
“Officers would get some counselling sessions after witnessing these horrific executions, but complete healing was not possible,” he said.
“Execution not only takes away the life of the person strapped to the heavy bars, but it also takes away a little bit of the humanity in each of us.”
A Rusape-based family is still nursing wounds from their relative who was executed in 2002.
The then 31-year-old inmate had been charged with various crimes, including the murder of his wife. Years later, his sister still needs closure.
His son, now 27 years old, serves as a blunt reminder of the family’s unforgiving loss.
“We only got to know of his execution through a message he sent via prison officers to us,” her voice cracked during the telephone conversation.
“Had we gotten the chance to at least see him or recover his dead body for proper burial, it would have been better.”
After execution, the prison authorities would take the dead bodies to a “secret place” where they burned them to ashes.
Inside the gallows
Exactly 20 years after the last man was hanged in Zimbabwe, Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison’s execution gallows still scream of the countless lives they took.
The walls can easily recount hundreds of painful stories and strongly reek of death. While the general outlook in local prisons has improved over the years, this section still has not changed.
Ironically, after two decades of not being in use, everything inside the gallows is still intact and clean as if they await to take the next life.
Even the mask worn by the hangman to conceal his face is intact.
“This was an unpleasant room for both the death-row inmates and officers alike. The place is filled with heartbreaking stories,” said the Officer-in-Charge of Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison, Chief Superintendent Alfred Machingauta.
“The hangman had to cover his face for security and spiritual reasons.”
To date, the identities of the men who used to work as hangmen remain a closely guarded secret in Zimbabwe.
After independence, the first execution was on September 30, 1982, when Steven Nare and Samuel Mahahe were hanged for a spate of crimes.
Mandlenkosi, also known as Never Masina Mandla, became the last man to be hanged on July 22, 2005, for murder with actual intent. The last execution at Chikurubi was carried out in 1979, before the gallows were moved to Harare Central Prison. Up to December 31, 2024, when the Death Penalty Abolition Act was passed, 105 offenders had been executed in the country.
At the time, there were 48 death row inmates across the country, who are now being re-sentenced.
Zimbabwe became the 127th country in the world to end capital punishment.
“We applaud President Mnangagwa for such a move. Execution was inhuman, and this development shows that we value the sanctity of life,” added Chief Supt Machingauta.
Zimbabwe practised the short drop execution method.
Here, the condemned prisoner would stand on suspended doors with the noose around the neck and a sandbag tied to their feet. The suspended doors would then be flung open, leaving the person dangling from the rope.
Suspended by the neck, the weight of the body and the sandbag tightened the noose around the neck, effecting strangulation and leading to death.
Later, medical doctors would confirm the death of the prisoner before the dead body was taken away to be burned to ashes.
New chapter
Former hanging gallows at the Harare Central Prison and Chikurubi are being transformed into a museum and radio broadcasting studios.
Zimbabwe Prisons and Correctional Service (ZPCS) Commissioner-General Moses Chihobvu said the move dovetails with the abolition of the death penalty.
“We are now converting the gallows into a museum and radio studios so that the public can visit, and schools can also have educational tours. In the process, we will also be generating money,” said Chihobvu.
Bridging the Gap Foundation has partnered with ZPCS in handling the gallows repurposing works.
“We thank the Government and the ZPCS for re-purposing these gallows. It means they are walking the talk in terms of respecting the United Nations practices,” noted director of corporate chaplaincy services of Bridging the Gap Foundation, Brian Moyo.
The Broadcasting Authority of Zimbabwe (BAZ) praised ZPCS for the move.
“After our assessment, we have seen that this place is ideal for setting up a radio station. All the facilities are good and ideal,” said the technical director of BAZ, Matthias Chakanyuka.
Chikurubi Security Maximum Prison currently houses more than 2 000 inmates, with 90 percent of them being men.
