POIGNANT MUSIC This is Zimbabwe where I grew up. It was once the country with the most promising future in Africa. Like so many others, I don't live here any more. In the 1980s, my best friend and I were held up as poster children for the new independent Zimbabwe; a white girl and a black girl who did everything together. We'd known each other since nursery school. In this film, I'll call her Mercy. That's not her real name. When we were 8 years old, the most powerful man in the country came to our town. Mercy and I practised our curtsies for days. Comrade Robert Mugabe was our hero. I still remember the excitement of being chosen to put flowers around the neck of this great man whose photo was on every shop wall and school hall. It was like meeting a movie star. Mugabe was elected to power after years battling the repressive Rhodesian regime of Ian Smith. Under Smith, only whites were allowed to vote, though they totalled just 2% of the population. We, the European, we are all powerful. We have the range in our hands, and we can pretty well do what we like. This racism gave rise to hatred and years of bloody civil war. (SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE) Mugabe emerged a leader when finally independence brought peace and liberation. I, Robert Gabriel Mugabe, do swear that I will well and truly serve Zimbabwe, so help me God. so help me God. CROWD CHEERS But it wasn't to last. Our hero immediately began a brutal campaign against any opposition. His first target was rival tribe, the Ndebele people ` Mercy's people. Thousands of civilians were being beaten and killed. My family came to live half a world away in NZ. Mercy's family didn't have that choice. She and I lost contact. I've always kept the picture she gave me on the day I left. Over the years, I've tried to find her online, but never succeeded. I don't even know if she's alive. I've watched Zimbabwe unravel from the safety of NZ, and I've never stopped thinking about Mercy. I need to know what happened to her. And I also need to know what happened to the great new Zimbabwe that we believed in, that we thought we represented. I'm going back to Zimbabwe; back to find Mercy. Copyright TVNZ Access Services 2012 TRAIN RUSTLES Hello. 'Over seven million Zimbabweans are now living outside the country. 'Because I've decided to film my search, I ask advice from some of those who've had to escape.' For me going there now, I'm trying to work out how... careful I need to be, you know, because we'll be going with a camera, and what's the best way to do that without getting on the radar. It depends where you are trying to film. When I went in 2008, it was very hard. < 2008 elections? < 2008 elections? Yes, after elections. I went in November. I had my own video camera. < Right. < Right. But, you know, filming in... (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY), you couldn't. You couldn't. Or if you see anything happen, you know, riots, you can't` You couldn't. Or if you see anything happen, you know, riots, you can't` < You can't` Can't be there. You can't be there. So I think you'll need to be very careful. If you sneaked into rural areas, or into` into black township, yes, it's easy to tell. That's right, 'What's that white girl doing in there?' 'What's happening?' The media in Zimbabwe is tightly controlled by the Mugabe regime, and we'll have to film undercover. So that is the rig for doing the basics. The fact that it's a still camera and there's no tapes. Who will look at this and think it's a video camera? Who will look at this and think it's a video camera? It's just brilliantly low-profile. If you're there, OK. 'Cameraman Jake and I will travel as if we're a couple on holiday. 'So we take some snapshots to support our story in case we are questioned.' HUBBUB ALL SING AND CHATTER SOFT URBAN MUSIC Over the last decade, Zimbabweans have been flooding across the border into South Africa, escaping political violence and desperately hoping to find work. Before setting off for Zimbabwe, we overnight with my old school friend Aubrey. LAUGHTER How is it, buddy? So, when did you leave Zim? Four years? Aubrey left Zimbabwe after his family's farm was seized by the government. They just took it? They just took it? Mm-hm. Mugabe has carefully painted his land seizures as a colonial redress. But it's not just white farmers being evicted. < (LAUGHS) < (LAUGHS) JAKE: (LAUGHS) It appears so. < (LAUGHS) JAKE: (LAUGHS) It appears so. LAUGHTER Hey! Hey! Hi. > Aubrey's girlfriend Heather and their friends join us. They're all from Zimbabwe. This is a friend of mine, Robyn. This is a friend of mine, Robyn. Hi. Nice to meet you. How are you? When did you guys decide to move? Well, we didn't` I didn't actually decide to move here. I went to` I came to university here. By the time I finished varsity, there was no point in going home. We couldn't go home. So I just stayed here. So I just stayed here. Yeah. Aubrey and his friends are an example of an educated and talented generation who have left Zimbabwe. It was a good place to be. It was a good place to be. It was. It was amazing. > It was a good place to be. It was. It was amazing. > Yeah. It was so good. It wasn't unusual that in the class you were mixed race. The thing is, I never even thought about it. It didn't actually occur to me as a kid. We used to go wherever, wherever. Everyone was mixed. Yeah, you didn't think about it. Yeah, you didn't think about it. At nursery school, I came home. I told my mum, 'Oh, Mum, I made a new friend today.' And she's just, like, 'What's her name?' I was, like, 'Vanilla.' So my mum was, like, 'What colour is Vanilla?' I said, 'I don't know. I'll ask her tomorrow.' (LAUGHS) That wasn't for you. I think we took that for granted, so I imagine it's that. I think we took that for granted, so I imagine it's that. Too much. But the weird thing is that the news we get about white farmers, they just sort of think, 'It's this really racially segregated country.' And that's not our experience. And that's not our experience. It isn't, at all. > And that's not our experience. It isn't, at all. > But it's sad it's become like that. It's becoming like that. It's becoming like that. So sad. It's sad. It's sad. It's so sad. TENSE DRUM BEATS When you're born in Africa, they say the land never leaves your blood. It's exciting to be back. We've been told it's safest to cross into Zimbabwe via the border near Victoria Falls. To get there, we must first cross the length of Botswana. Before we cross into Zimbabwe, we conceal our camera gear as best we can. Bag searches at the border posts are common. BIRDS CHIRP We're advised that leaving early will help us avoid trouble. No hire company would let us take a vehicle into Zimbabwe, so I've arranged for a contact with transport to meet us on the other side. It's impossible to film our crossing without drawing unwanted attention to ourselves. Jake keeps the camera covered. On the Zimbabwe side, we pass trucks that have been queued for over a week, desperate to pick up goods to sell from Botswana and Zambia. Peter is the only contact in Zimbabwe who knows about the documentary, and he's agreed to help us. Because I haven't been here for so long, Peter's local knowledge is invaluable. And we don't want to, sort of, raise any flags or anything. And, I mean, it's all still sensitive. This is` They're still looking out for this. Uh, Zimbabwe day one. Slate clap. UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYS We should blend in here in the tourist town of Victoria Falls. It's an ideal place to test our equipment. UNSETTLING MUSIC Despite our own tourist guise, our cover suddenly feels shaky when Jake and Pete are questioned by a police officer. So, what happened with that woman at` at Vic Falls today? Because I was` I wasn't back until you guys were talking to her and I didn't want to ask then. JAKE: She started interrogating us about what we were doing, where we were going. > What was really strange was she was actually more interested in Pete than she was in me. > And she was just looking him up and down the whole time. > This is only day two. > Jesus. > We have to move quickly, and we have to leave quickly. We have to move quickly, and we have to leave quickly. Yep, we do. We leave by dawn. Clearly, we need to be even more careful than we had thought. As we head deeper into Zimbabwe, I really feel its decline. En route to where I last saw Mercy is Bulawayo, where my mother grew up. The name Bulawayo means the killing place. During the civil war, Mugabe's ZANU-PF from Mashonaland in the north joined forces with ZAPU from Matebeleland in the south against the Rhodesian army. But as soon as independence was achieved, Mugabe saw ZAPU and the Ndebele people as the greatest threat to his leadership. ALL CHANT Claiming to be fighting dissidence, he established a deadly force known as the Fifth Brigade, who were trained by North Korea. They sealed off areas of Matebeleland, often killing entire villages. At least 20,000 men, women and children were massacred. Mugabe called this ethnic cleansing: the rain that washes away the chaff. Bulawayo is the capital of Matebeleland, Mercy's tribal region. A human rights survey found that over 80% of people here have first-hand experience of torture. It's Bulawayo where the secret service, or CIO, continues to be most active. We decide not to stay overnight here. It's been hard to ignore the persistent presence of a man in a leather jacket. Today we'll reach Gweru, my hometown. Gweru lies in the Midlands between Mashonaland and Matebeleland. A natural collision point, Gweru has always been the centre of political tension. We've been told not to film here at all, but this is where I last saw Mercy. And I used to spin it. I always used to spin it too fast for her. She used to say, 'Stop. Stop.' I've arranged to meet a local who knows the intricacies of Gweru. Sam and his girlfriend Fatsi will help me look for Mercy. So, when was the last time you actually`? Saw her? Talked to her? '97. '96, '97. Yeah, that's far. FATSI: She works somewhere? FATSI: She works somewhere? Well, when I last saw her she was doing teacher training. We'll just have to go around and... We'll just have to go around and... We'll have to ask some people. Oh, that's right. I've got some photos also. I'll show you. Someone, they might... Someone, they might... Might recognise her parents. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, let's just try out CJR. They might tell us something. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm hoping my old school, CJR, may hold records of Mercy's parents and past addresses. Can`? I'm looking for, um... Do you remember this`? She was my best friend when I was here at school. This one? This one? Yes. This one? Yes. I-I remember. This is very old. Go to the office. They might check from the register if it's still available. We can't tell people we're filming. It's just too risky. So Jake becomes adept at covert camera work. This is my friend Jake, who is also from NZ. OK, nice to meet you. This was my first school. (CHUCKLES) Is it OK if I have a look around and see my old classrooms? OK, no problem. It's not a problem. OK, no problem. It's not a problem. It's OK? Excellent. I was also wondering, cos I'm trying to find my friends from` or some of my friends from when I was here. '82 to '86. So I was wondering if there's any records still or photos? Education was the pride of independent Zimbabwe, one of Mugabe's great early legacies ` racially integrated and high-achieving. In the past decade, that's been rapidly eroded. In 2008, there were just 23 school days. In the last letter I received from Mercy, she was excited at the prospect of becoming a teacher. My best guess is that she would have trained at the local college. I tell the college that I'm looking for a friend who I think may have studied here between 1997 and 2001. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you. Please take seats. Nice to meet you. Please take seats. Thank you. We're needing a bit of help. 'They agree to search the records.' Oh, they` The records might be in the archives. Yes, that's true, because it's a long time ago. Yes, that's true, because it's a long time ago. Yes, they might be in the archives. PAPER RUSTLING Not today. Not today. No? Not today. No? If I did have time, I'd do it. Oh, thank you so much for trying. Yeah. Yeah. Right. Oh well. That's a shame. Oh well. That's a shame. Very hard. It's like a needle in a haystack. ENGINE RUMBLES Our next step is to take to the streets of the area where I last saw Mercy. These townships were built by the separatist Rhodesian government, but they've become more and more densely populated since Zimbabwe's economic collapse. These areas were the worst hit by the recent cholera epidemic, which killed thousands of people across the country. Not really, but, you know, I mean, the houses are so similar, and it was 14 years ago, so... 'In this neighbourhood these days, the sight of white people will raise questions. 'Sam and Fatsi keep us in the back of the van while they go from house to house with Mercy's photo 'trying to find someone who might recognise her.' INDISTINCT CONVERSATION But yet again, we come up empty-handed. Thanks, Fatsi. Thanks, Fatsi. All right. Well, it doesn't look like we're going to get anywhere here. Nobody seems to recognise the family. Probably means... they've moved away. Possibly some years ago. SOFT URBAN MUSIC I decide to travel north to the capital city, Harare. There are family friends on the ground there who may be able to help. Zimbabwe is one of the most fertile countries in Africa, but our route takes us past many abandoned farms. In the 1990s, the MDC ` Movement for Democratic Change ` began to threaten Mugabe's one`party state. Mugabe saw farmers and their workers as MDC's support base, so he began driving them from the land. As well as their employers, over one million farm workers have lost their homes and their jobs. Many of the farms are given to government ministers. Zimbabwe now imports over 80% of its food. I'm staying with friends who have organised a barbecue. I'm hoping they can help me with my search. One of them has a contact with connections. I become worried when I realise he's talking to a high-ranking police officer. No ID number on you or anything? No ID number on you or anything? No, no. I last saw her when we were teenagers` No ID number or anything, eh? He asks him to track down Mercy's ID number and location. He claims it's a good contact, but I'm nervous, because the police in Zimbabwe are Mugabe's henchmen. See, I'm nervous now. That's what I'm worried about. Mm. I've been naive, and the situation is no longer in my control. The policeman has asked to meet me in the morning. At this point, refusing would be more dangerous than going through with it. And if I can trust him, he might just be my best hope of finding Mercy. The policeman arrives with information. The extent of it is frightening. It includes details about the last three generations of Mercy's family and where she's living now. But I'm anxious about trusting him. This is Zimbabwe. This is what it is. Nobody quite trusts anybody. Everyone's got a connection that's just slightly dodgy. Anything can be found with a bit of money. No one wants to say how much. Anything can be found with a bit of money. No one wants to say how much. < JAKE: How much did you give him? 130. 130. < US? 130. < US? Yeah. EERIE, SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC The police officer insists on accompanying us to Mercy's address. Jake sits next to him. MAN: I think this way is wrong. We need to be extremely careful that he doesn't see the camera or microphones. Despite having paid him, he stands to make far more by turning us in if he finds out we're filming a documentary. He directs us towards Kwekwe, just outside of Gweru. His intel has established that this is where Mercy now lives and works as a teacher. Before we reach Kwekwe, he tells us to turn off the main road towards the rural area of Jombe. It's remote areas like this that people have been taken to and never seen again. Peter drives for about six hours. Eventually we leave even the donkey tracks. I realise that we are completely vulnerable. We reach a point where we can't drive any further. The policeman tells us to stay where we are. He gets out of the car and heads towards some huts in the bush. We're in the middle of nowhere, literally. And, um, he's just gone to ask some guys who are herding cattle. Everyone runs away... from him... ...when he stops to ask them. They` People are scared out here. SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC WHISPERS: Oh man. I just want to get the hell out of here. It's too... It's too... JAKE CHUCKLES JAKE: You have been shaking things up too much? JAKE: You have been shaking things up too much? Yeah, way too much. (MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY) Half an hour later, the policeman returns. He tells us to turn back. When we have gone some distance, he delivers a bombshell. He had found Mercy's family, and they told him that Mercy is dead. A long illness is the common euphemism for AIDS. I try to take in the information. SOMBRE PIANO MUSIC Life expectancy for women in Zimbabwe now is just 32. That's my age, and would have been hers. Thanks, Pete. We couldn't have done that without your help. (EXHALES DEEPLY) That was a big day. Thank you. POIGNANT MUSIC I'm confused about what to do next. I know I want to talk to Mercy's family myself, but I'll need to find a safe way of getting back there. We're returning to Bulawayo to meet an MDC MP. Technically, the MDC ` Movement for Democratic Change ` won the 2008 election, but Mugabe refused to cede power. International pressure forced a power-sharing arrangement. But Mugabe has worked this to suit himself. The MDC has been absorbed into the government, weakening their opposition voice. Despite our contact being a member of parliament, we need to meet in secret. He has agreed to take us back to Mercy's family. In the city, we're shoulder-tapped and told to get into a vehicle. JAKE: Yes, very good. Thank you. We travel via the Silobela region. This area is an MDC stronghold and has seen some of the worst violence. ALL SING We're with Arnold Sululu, MDC MP for the district. ALL CONTINUE TO SING Voting for Arnold took great courage from this community. Despite the unity government, MDC supporters and leaders are still at risk of being attacked. SOMBRE MUSIC MUSIC CONTINUES ALL RECITE PRAYER ALL SING AND CHANT Arnold and the MDC are championing a local HIV education initiative. Zimbabwe has a similar HIV infection rate as neighbouring countries, but the death toll here is far higher. What little medication is available requires adequate nutrition to work. Without enough food, the side effects from medication can make people even sicker. Mugabe has actively blocked food aid from reaching areas which support the opposition, increasing the impact of HIV in these regions. It's been called a silent genocide. SINGING I can't help wondering if this contributed to Mercy's death. I make a donation to the education programme, and they present me with a chicken. SINGING CONTINUES It's getting late, but Arnold is determined to help me get back to Mercy's family tonight. We head into neighbouring Jombe. This is not MDC territory. For safety, Arnold hasn't even told his closest colleagues when and where we'll be travelling. EERIE MUSIC It's near midnight when we finally reach the right group of huts. I want to give the family the photos I have of Mercy. But when I hand them over, it raises doubt about her identity. Although this man's niece shared Mercy's name and age, the policeman was wrong. This is not Mercy's family. I give them the chicken. It's all I have, but the gesture seems so inadequate for a family who really have lost their child. HEAVY, SOLEMN MUSIC Mercy might still be alive. Back in Bulawayo, my search begins again. This time, with no leads at all. Our tourist visas are running out, and I don't have much time left. In desperation, I turn to the phone book, but Mercy has one of the most common surnames in Zimbabwe. PHONE BEEPS Hello? Hello? Hello. I'm looking for... Sibanda. I don't know. I don't know. You don't know? OK. Thank you very much. Uh, maybe the wrong number. Uh, maybe the wrong number. OK. Sorry. It's the wrong number? Sorry. OK, bye-bye. Oh, sorry, sorry. Oh, sorry, sorry. OK. Oh, sorry, sorry. OK. Thank you. (GROANS) There's only another 400 Sibandas to go. (SIGHS) Finally, after two days, I get a breakthrough. Do you`? Do you know her? Do you`? Do you know her? Yes. Do you`? Do you know her? Yes. You do? Uh, I think she's coming back tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning? Tomorrow morning? Or even today. Oh, OK. Um, I'm visiting from NZ. If you tell her it's Robyn Paterson, I'd love to see her before I go. OK. OK. Goodbye. I think that might be her. He said she went to CJR School. JAKE: OK. JAKE: OK. So... JAKE: OK. So... Did he`? Yeah. I'm hopeful. The man on the phone says he's Mercy's father. But it seems strange that he doesn't recognise my name. We travel to his listed address in Gweru. In this area, Jake needs to make sure the camera isn't seen. When we reach the house, I realise the man I've spoken to is not Mercy's father. 'Ah, so you're her uncle?' 'Ah, so you're her uncle?' Yes, yes. 'Ah, so you're her uncle?' Yes, yes. 'So, so, tell me where is she now?' 'She's in...? (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY) 'She's in...? (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY) No, er... You go past Kwekwe. 'Mm.' Then turn off. The uncle tells us she's over half a day's drive away at a church camp. He confirms from the photographs that this is definitely the Mercy I've been looking for. Is she teaching? Is she teaching? Yes. Is she teaching? Yes. She's a teacher? Yes? Ah. Last time I saw her, she wanted to be a teacher, so she was going to start training. I hope we can find her before I leave the country. I hope we can find her before I leave the country. OK. Yeah, I'm sure... The uncle is unclear as to when Mercy is due home. We're told there are church camps at over 500 points in the region. I'm forced to wait for Mercy to return. Today is Independence Day. While we wait for Mercy, Mugabe is nearby, celebrating 30 years in power. State media reports the triumphant 30 years of peace and freedom. I continue to wait for the uncle to call, but he doesn't. We worry that our visit has drawn too much attention to him. His neighbours tell us that he put on his best suit and walked into town. He hasn't been seen since. JAKE: What did they say? 'Everybody knows somebody who's disappeared.' 'Everybody knows somebody who's disappeared.' And they do. After four days, there's still no word. Then a local tips us off that being away at church camp is a common cover-up for having left the country. It's likely Mercy has gone to South Africa. I make a decision to catch a bus across the border and pick up our search in South Africa. But it's really hard leaving the country, having not found Mercy. With our bags now full of the material we've been filming, it's a tense border-crossing out of Zimbabwe. (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY) TENSE MUSIC MUSIC CONTINUES We make it through without being searched. SOFT URBAN MUSIC There are four million Zimbabweans living in South Africa, many of them on the streets of Johannesburg. WOMAN SINGS In the heart of downtown, we meet Priscilla, who has an honour's degree in sociology. CONTINUES TO SING Priscilla leads us to the Central Methodist Church where she's living with over 2000 other Zimbabweans. ALL SING AND HUM ALL CONTINUE TO SING People sleep on stairwells and wherever they can find space. It's better here than living on the street. The church building has become an unofficial refugee camp. Walking around asking questions to find my friend, what I find instead is people desperate to tell their story. On another floor, I find a 16-year-old who's just escaped from one of Mugabe's many youth militia camps. Despite the unity government, militia camps and underground torture centres still operate in Zimbabwe. People are desperate to leave the country. In the city, the enormity of my search really hits me. Out here in the diaspora, even family members have lost each other. It seems hopeless. Every lead I followed has been a dead end. I have to face reality ` it's time to go home. Mercy could be here in South Africa. She could be anywhere. Since coming home, it's been hard to let the search go. My daughter is now the age Mercy and I were when we met. Watching her play with her friends is a constant reminder of the connection Mercy and I once had. I've kept in touch with people from Zimbabwe and South Africa, hoping that something will come to light. Finally, I get some good news from Sam and Fatsi back in Gweru. They think they've tracked down Mercy's mother, who remembers me well. Incredibly, she's told Sam that Mercy is living in Australia. She's let Mercy know I'm looking for her. PHONE RINGS PHONE RINGS SOTTO VOCE: Come on. Answer. PHONE RINGS SOTTO VOCE: Come on. Answer. PHONE CONTINUES TO RING Hello? Hello? Hello? Is it`? Is it ...? Yes, it is. Yes, it is. ... Sibanda? Yes, it is. Yes, it is. (SIGHS IN RELIEF) H ... It's-It's Robyn from Gweru. Oh, hi. (LAUGHS) I was waiting for your call. How are you? Oh, I'm good. How are you? I'm good. I can't believe I'm speaking to you. I'm good. I can't believe I'm speaking to you. (LAUGHS) You have no idea. I've been looking for you all over Zimbabwe. They're laughing. (LAUGHS) Yeah. That's so right. That's right. To have a friendship like that, you know? I look at Poppy and her friends, and I want that for her too. I'm coming to Australia, cos I so don't want to lose touch now that I've found you. cos I so don't want to lose touch now that I've found you. BOTH LAUGH Yeah, I know. And everyone's` everyone's everywhere. There's hardly anyone in Zimbabwe any more. Mercy is living in a small coastal town in Australia. It's been 14 years since we've seen each other. With her family still back home, Mercy has asked that we don't reveal her face on camera. NERVOUSLY: Hi. NERVOUSLY: Hi. Hello. NERVOUSLY: Hi. Hello. Oh my goodness. How are you? 'Even this far from Zimbabwe, Mugabe's weapon of fear is still effective.' Mercy and her husband are amongst the lucky ones. They saved enough to be able to leave Zimbabwe with their children just 18 months ago. Mercy fulfilled her dream of becoming a teacher back home. Here, though, she's working night shifts as a caregiver. Our time together in Australia is time that not long ago I never thought we'd have. GENTLE GUITAR MUSIC Mercy and I still represent Zimbabwe. Only now, we are the face of the diaspora. Just two of the millions who have left the country we love. For every voice that comes out of Zimbabwe, there are a thousand more being silenced. The struggle in our country is not black versus white, nor Shona versus Ndebele, it's the Mugabe regime against the people. Captions by Amy Park. Edited by Anne Langford. www.tvnz.co.nz/access-services Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Copyright TVNZ Access Services 2012