The Lonliest Police Officers

Located right at the horn of Zimbabwe is Kazungula Police Station, 70km from Victoria Falls towards the sunset. Having travelled to the place under the cover of the night’s darkness, I missed the captivating splendour of the lush national park either side of the tarmac whose quality all roads in Gokwe can only dream of.

Not only that; I have never been to KZN – as Kazungula is popularly known in Kazungula – all my life; so you can imagine my shock when I opened the window the morning following my nocturnal arrival, to be greeted by the discovery that I had slept right on the bank of the majestic waters of the Zambezi. This was actually my second time being shocked by the Zambezi; the first having happened in Mana Pools when I opened the crack of my tent, after awakening with a jolt to the irritating bellow of the hippo.

What a beautiful sight.

At Kazungula, two goal posts were erected on a gently sloping gradient near the Mess – we actually got embroiled in an argument over what odds were there that one could hit a ball and it would end up floating in the river instead of nestling in the nets. Police officers at the station swore it has never happened before.

Maybe never. Or maybe there has just never been a powerful shot taker at the pitch yet.

One is tempted to think that a shot having never been struck that could actually land in the river is because KZN is a land of rarities. Take crime frequency for example – with a population of just around 310 people – another rarity – mostly National Parks, Zimbabwe Revenue Authority (ZIMRA), Immigration authorities and safari operators, and also give or take a few tourists now and then; the 32 police officers at Kazungula can afford to assign as many as five details to a criminal case. That is because the station records just about six cases on its crime register every month.

“Most of the reported crimes involve smuggling at the border post, which are almost always solved pronto,” beamed Acting Officer-In-Charge, Assistant Inspector Philip Mpofu.

Their most recent big case can be traced to September of 2010 when the team of Sergeant Luckson Banda, Csts Archwell Manhivi, Fredrick Mukombami who were supported by details from Support Unit, laid an ambush for suspected smugglers who had travelled all the way from Beitbridge to break into a warehouse at the border post and steal cigarette packs.

With crime cases being so far and between – you can safely say chances of meeting a criminal in Kazungula are between slim and none – Harare cops would be forgiven to think they have died and gone to heaven.

Said Asst Insp Mpofu, “In the vast 1,200 square metres we police here, the people in it are mostly scattered along the road leading to Victoria Falls. In their clusters, everybody knows everybody, so the petty crimes of theft and unlawful entry are almost non-existent.”

The only things found in exorbitant quantities in Kazungula are the forest and the animals – it is a national park after all. Even for these, animal attacks on people are as rare as the sight of a pangolin; the last attack on a human being might have been that on a border jumper late last year, but before then, the last recorded attack on a human being by an animal was way back in 2003.

So the law enforcers, together with their counterparts at National Parks are reduced to virtual herd boys – guarding the national wild stock against the menacing jacklights from across the river in Zambia.

“Because the forest is so huge, and we and the game wardens are so few, poaching is the prime crime of concern in this area. At best, it is very difficult to detect, because most of the time we will be reacting to scenes where animals have already been killed and trophies smuggled across. Patrols at night are impractical at night because of the animals; but that is the time when the poachers pounce.”

Without the jack-lighting blemish on their otherwise immaculate white gown, Kazungula would certainly have been a place to be for any police officer.

Why then do those manning it feel like they are the loneliest police officers on earth?

“Because it is lonely here,” quipped the acting OIC. “Of all the 11million plus people in the country, only 300 are in Kazungula. And that includes our families.

“Besides, there are only two groups of people in the population here – the working class and the infantile. There are no schools within a 70km radius where we can send our kids, not even a crèche.”

No wonder there is always a buzz when visitors, however small, descend upon the station. Like when The Outpost crew camped overnight during their tour of Matebeleland North Province; or a few days before, when construction specialists spent a few days cobbling repairs to most roofs at the station which had been blown off during a hailstorm.

“It might be a beautiful place for tourists and visitors, but when they are gone, it gets very lonely here.” Asst Insp Mpofu, who himself has been at KZN for about three years now, mused. He seemed to be talking to himself.

Like most bases built during the war, Kazungula was a field base for Rhodesian front Forces erected in 1963, which was then converted to a post for Victoria Falls Police after independence. Life did begin at 40 for Kazungula, which was weaned from Victoria Falls and gained its status as a fully fledged station in 2003. Wooden modules were destroyed in 2009 to pave way for permanent structures, which are yet to be built, except for one block comprising the charge office and two other officer accommodations; one for the Officer-In-Charge.

It is better now that the police share the camp with fellow civil servants from ZIMRA and Immigrations. But with the border post proper being just that – solely a port of entry between Zimbabwe and Botswana – without any form of recreation whatsoever, it is still a drag. The officers had to fish for their own entertainment when they opened a canteen with such small stock as basic food necessities as well as liquor, which they sell to themselves.

Proceeds from the store are channelled towards the purchase of station stationery and maintenance of the station vehicle. The vehicle is an absolute necessity for Kazungula, as there is absolutely no way one can travel from the station to the main road or the border post three kilometres away, given the latent danger of wild game.

The station itself is manned by youthful policemen who must be scratching their heads wondering where they will find the girls should they decide to start families in the near future. The female police officer strength is four against 28 men.

At night, besides gathering for a few drinks at the canteen, the officers amuse themselves by watching the kudu batting their eyes like fire flies in the dark as they graze in the soccer pitch. That is a very dry way to while the time, but the officers take it.

Of course, they could have an actual field day of fun at the horn tip where Zimbabwe shares the border with Botswana (whose piercing razor wire boundary is an object of fierce dispute between animals, which now and then shuffle it back and forth as they cross over into or out of Zimbabwe), Namibia and Zambia. There they will witness cunning smugglers using their canoes to smuggle fuel from Botswana into Zambia with almost no hindrance whatsoever. What is worse, the smugglers use the shuttle ferry as their prime transport for their illicit loot.

One would bet his last dollar that Zimbabwean cops would be shocked into action by this brazen act of offence on the laws of the motherland on their turf. But then, it is not happening in their waters; and besides, they have enough problems on their side of the Zambezi to worry about – who cares about a neighbour’s negligent policing techniques?

“Vanhu vakajaidzwa ava,” remarked the award-winning call sign leader, Sgt Wellington Gwandira whose E Troop call sign was deployed at KZN when The Outpost made a sojourn.

He couldn’t have hit the nail more on the head.