Book Review - Mukiwa by Peter Godwin
Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa by Peter Godwin
Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa | Goodreads
Rhodesia in the 1970s stands as one of history's most intriguing anomalies—a fully functioning economy, internationally isolated, ruled by a tiny white minority of about 7% who controlled the government, military, and economy while disenfranchising the 93% Black majority.
The book that captures this paradox at its core, portraying a state born from defiance: in 1965, the white minority government unilaterally declared independence (UDI) from Britain, rechristening itself Rhodesia. Rhodesia practiced white minority rule with a veneer of civility, a "multiracial" facade that fooled no one. Black people knew there was no path to reform; whites knew majority rule was inevitable. It was rotten from the start, a losing battle against the tide of history. The 1970s Bush War escalated into terrorism, cross-border incursions from Mozambique, and full civil war. In the end, Republic of Zimbabwe was established in 1980.
Peter Godwin's Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa is a memoir and about growing up in the last days of Rhodesia. Peter Godwin chronicles the violent transformation of Rhodesia into Zimbabwe, portraying the bitter, non-linear process of post-war patching-up, often without a happy ending. The book is divided into three parts:
Part I: A White Boy's Upbringing in the Shadow of Collapse
The memoir opens with Godwin's childhood in this doomed paradise rendered with top-notch narration that feels like waving goodbye to a world knowing nothing will remain the same. It kicks off dramatically with the Oberholzer murder—a brutal rendition that sets the tone for Chimumenga's rebellion. Godwin, a "mukiwa" (Shona for white man, often derogatory), navigates an ultra-masculine environment where softness invites ridicule: characters like Knighty, Violet, and Albert populate anecdotes from hostel days at boarding school, where UDI's effects ripple through culture. Godwin's family includes a "Doctor Mother, with whom he explores society and landscape of Manicaland. Author mentions of the subtle racism —less crude than South Africa's "kaffir", but insidious. It's a methodical buildup: a child's wide-eyed lens on a society fraying, conscription's shadow lengthening, all while Carmelites and Jesuits offer fleeting piety. This section paints Rhodesia as a vivid, violent Eden—fun, folklore, and foreboding intertwined.
Part II: Adulthood in the Brutal Bush War Inferno
Shifting to Godwin's adult years, Part II plunges into the war's maw, where brutal insurgency crushes Rhodesia as Black power surges. Conscripted as a police reservist, Godwin vividly captures frontline madness: ambushes, clashes with insurgents, local betrayals fueling futile violence. He brushes "in touch with death," losing family amid civil war chaos. The section throbs with raw tension—excessive brutality meets moral courage and survival, highlighting violence's profound grip. In Rhodesia during the war Peter Godwin writes about a slogan painted on a house in the Tribal Trust Lands: “Go ahead and hate us. See if we care.” I find this empowering because people don’t need affirmation from someone who sees them as enemy.
It's a slow-developing saga: Chimumenga guerrillas versus a minority clinging to power, no "multiracial, free Rhodesia" possible. Anecdotes abound—hostel echoes evolve into battlefield grit, masculine codes tested by horror. The narrative peaks poignantly, underscoring the conflict's stark futility. Godwin's style shines: immersive, unflinching, transforming personal loss into universal tragedy.
Part III: Return to Zimbabwe's Reversed Chaos
Godwin returns to independent Zimbabwe around 1981–1982, confronting a non-linear "patching-up" without happy endings. As a journalist, he covers the tribal disputes—Shona majority versus Ndebele minority in Matabeleland where North Korean-trained Fifth Brigade unleashes Gukurahundi, massacring 20,000+ Ndebele civilians in state terror. The phrase "old devil has become god" captures it: persecuted Blacks turn persecutors, law twisted selectively like old Rhodesia's abuses—police brutality, zero accountability.
Conclusion
The book concludes around 1981–1982, following the author's return to the newly independent Zimbabwe and reconciliation to reality. Godwin describes decades masterfully: a bygone era of local sightseeing laced with violence, idioms, and the slow buildup of revolution. Rhodesia was no beacon of hope; it was a pressure cooker, primed to explode into Zimbabwe in 1980. Yet, Zimbabwe exhibited characteristics similar to old Rhodesia, where the law is used selectively, or in an "unlawful" manner, resulting in the abuse of police power, brutality, and lack of accountability.
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