Obituary- May Nkomazana Dulini Ncube : The Unsung Heroine of our Nation
By Professor Welshman Ncube
Death is horrible and such a stain and blight on life. Never does it ever make any sense. It is always so illogical, so pointless and meaningless and yet so final. It strikes disproportionately against the best and the good and yet numerically they are comparatively so few. Never as much as forewarn.
When I sat with May Nkomazana Dulini Ncube, the widow of the late veteran nationalist, freedom fighter and founding Treasurer General of the MDC, Fletcher Dulini Ncube, in my office in Bulawayo, only a few weeks ago, discussing the winding up of her late husband’s estate, which I had volunteered to be the pro bono executor of, little did I know or even imagine that that was the last time I was seeing her alive.
Last year, after the death of Fletcher I had volunteered to May to help with the administration of the estate and every time I passed by her house to see her or she stopped at my office she would tell me that she was not yet ready to deal with the estate as she was still not emotionally ready for it.
Each time I told her she should let it be until such time that she felt she wanted to do it. Only after she returned from visiting their two elder boys, their wives and her grandchildren abroad, did she come back to me to express readiness to have the estate wound up. When she returned I remarked to her that she had come back rejuvenated, full of spirit and life. She looked genuinely happy for the first time since the death of Fletcher.
The visit to the boys seemed to have done her a lot of good. Before then, as one who knew the never ending grief and void arising from the loss of loved ones, I had always sensed and felt that she was physically here with us and among us but that spiritually, emotionally and in her psyche she was with Fletcher in another world.
Thus when she came back from the United Kingdom, I was so happy that she appeared to have reestablished some sense of physical and emotional balance in her life. In the circumstances I was profoundly shocked when I received the news of her passing away from an equally shocked and shattered Themba Bhunu who was literally in tears as much as in denial and still hoping that if I talked to her sisters I might just discover that it was all a terrible mistake. That was not to be.
I recalled talking to May sometime after the passing away of Fletcher, that as humans we had become masters of inventing all sorts of false clichés to console each other about death, such as; time heals, with time the pain will go away; the grief will fade as the memory fades, etc etc.
As anyone who has lost a child, a sibling, a parent or a spouse knows, all these are profoundly false. Time never heals. The pain never goes away. The grief never ends. The tears never dry. Understanding never comes. All there is, is a sense of a never ending void, a falling and falling that does not hit the bottom.
An ever present heavy and broken heart. An unshakable and incessant desire to be taken to the departed loved one. May understood all this. I always felt that in some way she felt that with Fletcher gone her part in the story of life was done.
But who was May? Those of us who had the privilege to know her will testify that she was one of the many unsung heroines of our country. A teacher by profession. A farmer by choice. A philanthropist by love. A woman of genuine substance. Caring and loving. Trusting and fiercely loyal. Religious and of immense faith. Patient almost to a fault.
Controlled and as calm as the deep ocean. Never once in the decade and a half that I knew her did I see her lose her cool. She had such a big heart. Forgiveness came naturally to her. Inspite of the many years she was separated from Fletcher by his numerous detentions both in Rhodesia and Zimbabwe and notwithstanding the brutality visited upon her husband, more so in independent Zimbabwe she never showed bitterness.
May was perceptive and understanding. She was practical and realistic. Witty and Humorous. She was courageous and tolerant.
I recall the time Fletcher was falsely accused of involvement in the murder of Cain Nkala in 2001, the Police wanted to arrest him in Harare on a Thursday after Parliament so they could keep him in detention over the weekend. I had to drive him to Bulawayo in the middle of the night, evading and avoiding police roadblocks. We got to Bulawayo safely and the Police had already been to his house in Hillside.
A friend of mine from our days at Luveve Secondary School graciously agreed to provide him with sanctuary for the weekend so that on the Monday, his lawyer, Josphat Tshuma, would arrange to surrender him to the Police. After safely dropping Fletcher at the sanctuary provided by Sazini, I went to explain all this to May and advised her that in our view it would not be safe for her to go there and see him.
She was calm, witty, unfazed and understood the situation and notwithstanding her obvious deep concern over the television news headlines implicating Fletcher in murder, not once was there any evidence of panic.
We had arranged for two nondescript mobile handsets and lines for both her and Fletcher to communicate without their conversations being traced. She was content with that and so totally supportive to Fletcher in those conversations. They were a lovely couple, clearly respectful of each other and patently so in love, notwithstanding the many years they had been together. Always affectionate to each other. Even the way they just called each other ‘Fletcher’ and ‘May’ was so natural and loving. Never did the stress of the tough world of politics Fletcher lived show any strains on their marriage.
When Fletcher eventually handed himself to the Police, they repeatedly opposed each and every bail application that his lawyers made and the courts obliged by denying him bail again and again, notwithstanding that to many of us it was obvious that he was not a flight risk. With his medical conditions, he suffered severely during that unjustified detention resulting in a sharp deterioration of his health.
Throughout all this, May was strong and maintained her faith, praying incessantly for her husband’s safety and health. When we were at our wits’ end with the repeated bail refusals and Fletcher was then detained in hospital in leg irons and all, the then Chairwoman of the MDC’s Women Assembly in Bulawayo, Sakhile Khumalo approached me with a traditional and cultural approach to addressing the dilemma we were in.
Myself, the late Gibson Sibanda and Paul Themba Nyathi approached May on this proposal. Notwithstanding her deep Christian faith she allowed us to accept the proposal from the Khumalos. As fate would have it, the day after the traditional and cultural act was done Fletcher was granted bail and released.
He was by then in a bad shape and we were deeply worried for him. May patiently nursed him back to good health, even though by then he had lost sight on one of his eyes. Once again she had no bitterness but just understanding that in any struggle there are those who have to endure a disproportionate suffering so that we could be free.
We in the MDC worked closely with May throughout our continuing struggle for a democratic, free and prosperous Zimbabwe. Thus this obituary is not just about mourning a life lost but the celebration of the life of this unsung heroine who has been taken away from us so unexpectedly.
May and Fletcher were married in 1973 and had three children together. Given their trials and tribulations in the unforgiving Rhodesian and Zimbabwean political terrain their marriage cannot be described as a fairytale. But that they were soul mates is not capable of contestation. As intimated above some in the MDC family are convinced that May died of a broken heart and could not bear to go on living without her beloved Fletcher.
In the MDC family, May has been our pillar and bedrock, even after her husband had passed on at almost this exact period last year. She denied herself and her family the comfort and pleasures of association that come with being apolitical and was constantly living on edge due to the dangers associated with opposition politics.
Here is a woman who allowed us as politicians to spend most of the time with her husband for political work up and down the width and breadth of the country. We were always welcome in her home with that infectious laughter of hers. She was our mother, our sister, our friend and counselor. Her Hillside home was our home.
May stood by Fletcher in good and in bad times and all this during the various periods of political tumult. She was his and our strength during some very difficult days in our party’s history. Her commitment to the democratization of Zimbabwe was refreshing.
She is one of those people whose names are not interred anywhere in the annals of the history of this country, yet have played immeasurable roles in ensuring that Zimbabwe is where it is today. It is then left to us to sing her song, to honour her and to celebrate a life well lived on principle.
The MDC is taking this time to celebrate women like May who because of the career paths chosen by their husbands, find themselves taking on more roles in life than they had bargained for. Apart from being a high profile politician’s wife, mother and sister to all the politicians who worked with Fletcher, May was also a wife, mother, daughter -in -law, grandmother, teacher and farmer. May multi skilled and multi tasked.
She played her roles as only a woman of substance can. She played and weaved her different roles with finesse, fortitude, resilience and a smile. She took all the trials and tribulations that came with Fletcher’s job in her stride and as her controlled fate. Even when the challenges seemed insurmountable, she never gave up but kept on encouraging, supporting and caring. She was fair. She was just.
As a teacher, May was a dedicated professional as evidenced by so many of her former students who attest to having gone through her hands. It is due to her career as a teacher that she was also able to extend her motherly love and advice to all those who knew her. She was also an established farmer who worked hard for the betterment of her family and the nation at large.
Fletcher was unwell for a long time. May was by his side throughout, taking care of him, nursing him and making sure he attended political functions and meetings as and when it was possible. She understood that politics was the lifeblood of Fletcher Dulini Ncube.
During the many times we visited the Dulini home during her husband’s illness, May would still find it in her to share moments of joy about their three sons Bheki, Vusi and Sandi, their daughters in law and grandchildren. She would share with us their lives including all those moments captured in photographs and videos. This way, we knew how much she loved them and how dedicated and committed she was to her family.
For many of us in the MDC, from her we learnt how to be strong, courageous and resilient in times of adversity. We learnt never to give up. She taught us the meaning of loyalty and the value of love. She showed us how to forgive and how to be selfless. She was a living embodiment of Ubuntu. Her dream of a free and prosperous Zimbabwe, even though deferred, lives on through her shining exemplary life.
May demostrated to us the biblical redemption through suffering. A philanthropist and humanitarian at heart, she supported various charities and paid school fees for a number of needy children in Bulawayo. This is not only a loss for the Nkomazana and Dulini Ncube families but for us all as the MDC who knew and worked with her throughout all these years and the entire nation.
May, you left us to join your husband, Fletcher. We remember how he used to ask you to sing his song for him with your beautiful voice. Go on May, may you continue to sing and watch over your children and grandchildren.
We know how much you loved and love them. We know and feel the pain of your sacrifice. We know what a pillar of support you were to us and to Fletcher during his lifetime. It was an honour and a blessing to have known and worked with you. Unsung as you are, you remain a heroine of our nation.
Lala ngoxolo lokuthula qhawe lamaqhawe
May Nkomazana Dulini Ncube was born on 15 May 1948 and passed away on 20 November 2015.
