By Douglas Togaraseyi Mwonzora

Immediately after completing my law degree, I was literally snatched by Morgan Tsvangirai to work as a Legal Adviser responsible for research and litigation at the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions. Within a year, I married my sweetheart, Muchaneta and we had our lovely first child, Bertha. With this added family responsibility, I decided to go into private practice. I joined a white firm, but was fired within a month over disagreements about the allocation of toilets between white and black members of staff. I, however, immediately found employment with another legal firm in Kadoma.

One day, a friend, Osmond Nyamakanga, took me for a drink at Kadoma Ranch Motel. There was a lively disco with famous DJs, Peter Jones, Kudzi Marudza and Joseph Hussein thrilling the crowd. The hall was packed to the brim, it being a Friday. At about 9 pm, a tall, light and handsome man walked to the centre of the hall about 5 meters from us. The disco lights lit his clearly expensive coat. He smelled of expensive cologne. The DJ Joseph Hussien temporarily halted the music and announced over the microphone;

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we now have in the house Mr Blessed Geza!”

The man slowly but deliberately walked towards the stage, and from about a meter out of his coat, he took a wad of crispy notes and threw them to the DJ who had uttered his name. The crowd went into a frenzy as the man, in the company of the Hotel Manager, Mr. Tazarurwa, walked to his seat near the bar. The music resumed. Osmond told me that the next round of drinks would be on the rich man, as it was customary that whenever he walked into the bar, the next round of drinks would be on him and for everyone! Osmond told me that the man was a businessman in Kadoma, a former army officer and a war veteran. As up to that time I had never seen a rich war veteran, I did not believe Osmond on that detail.

The following Monday, my boss, Munyaradzi Paul Mangwana, started allocating me the files that I was supposed to deal with. I noticed that the majority of the files belonged to the same company. One of the cases involving quite a substantial amount of money was supposed to be argued on Thursday, the same week. Mr Mangwana emphasised that I should prepare well for the case because the director of the company was a very fastidious man.

On Thursday morning, I went to the civil court. The presiding Magistrate was Steven Murambasvina, whom we used to call “Doink we Zaka” during our student days at the University of Zimbabwe. My opponent was Mr Sibanda (not his real name), who had equally been my senior at the University. He was very experienced, shrewd and thorough. As the case was about to start, Mr Geza walked into the courtroom with his entourage and sat right at the back. The smell of his expensive cologne pervaded the entire courtroom. That morning, after taking my bath, I had spoiled myself with a generous amount of bruit perfume. That, compared to Mr Geza’s cologne, made me feel cheap! It was not clear to me what he had come to court for.

My case was the fifth on the roll. It appeared as if everybody in the gallery had been waiting for that case. Although this matter was supposed to be heard in the High Court, given the amount involved, the parties had consented to the jurisdiction of the Kadoma Magistrate’s Court. Given that this was my very first case under my new employer and given the amount involved, I argued the matter as if my life depended on it. Sibanda, as usual, was splendid and methodical. I was, therefore, naturally elated when the Magistrate Murambasvina ruled in my favour!

I left the courtroom for the office but noticed that Mr Geza and his troupe had immediately followed me outside. Beaming, he congratulated me for a “fantastic display”. Accepting the kind compliment, I asked what his business had been at the court.

“But you have just represented me. That was my company”

That was the beginning of a fantastic professional and personal relationship with Mr Blessed Geza.

In our subsequent discussions Mr. Geza started talking about my dressing, which did not correspond with the cases that I was winning. He said that the dressing of a lawyer either gave or removed the confidence of his client. It was a lifelong lesson that I have carried to this day. In everything Mr. Geza demanded excellence and clearly abhorred mediocrity. I became a friend of Mr. Geza and frequently rode in his expensive cars. Whenever I had financial problems, he would chip in without expecting any repayment. One day, I attempted to return a debt of what would be today’s equivalent of US$100. I was thoroughly berated for “insulting” him. Was he not my big brother? My relationship with this flamboyant man won me quite a few enemies.

One day, I was in the company of Mr. Geza when some malicious chap walked across the lawn to where we were seated just outside the Kadoma Ranch Motel building. After a few drinks, he asked Mr. Geza as to whether he knew that I was a member of the opposition Zimbabwe Unity Movement. Boiling with anger, I kept my cool. But the man was not done yet. He also stated that his research had shown that I was one of the 116 people who had been arrested and detained at Wha Wha Prison in Gweru in 1990 for “fighting the government”. Mr Geza sipped his drink rather slowly and turned to address my enemy.

“I don’t care what party Dougie belongs to. He is a good lawyer handling my cases well. He is a Zimbabwean with the freedom of choice. Now get out of my face!” The man rose and left, never to return. We never talked about the subject at all.

Sometime in the middle of 1994, Mr Mangwana went for a holiday with his wife, leaving me in charge of the Kadoma office. It was during that time that Bishop Muzorewa came to our offices with quite a few members of his inner circle. He told me that he had heard about me and wondered if I could handle the case in which they wished to challenge the law on political party funding. Seeing the historical opportunity presented by the case, I decided to take it up. I spent the whole night drafting the court papers and filed them in the Supreme Court in the now famous United Parties v Minister of Justice case the following morning. I was interviewed by the ZBCTV right outside the Supreme Court building.

I telephoned Mangwana and briefed him about the case. Initially, he was happy, but he later came under heavy criticism from ZANU PF Mashonaland West bigwigs who accused him of fighting Zanu PF and President Mugabe. The case had also become the talk of Kadoma town. When I met Mr. Geza outside Specks Hotel, he requested to read my application. I walked to my office, which was barely 20 meters away and handed the copy to him. He sat in his car for 30 minutes, his face buried in the application. When he was done, he looked at me straight in the eye. “This is very good. What we are doing as Zanu PF is very unfair. This is not what we fought for”. After giving me some money for drinks, he departed for Sanyati.

When Mangwana came back, he looked battered and bruised by the Zanu PF machinery. He asked me to drop the case, but I flatly refused. He then gave me a three-day ultimatum to drop the case failure, or he would fire me. I chose to be fired and I was fired!

When Mr. Geza heard about my ordeal, he was furious. He invited both Mangwana and me for a lunch meeting at Kadoma Ranch Motel. Mangwana, sad and melancholy, explained the pressure and threats from Zanu PF. On the other hand, I stated my professional reasons for not wanting to drop the case. Geza rose from his chair and spoke, but not addressing anyone in particular. “What’s wrong with Muzorewa being represented by a lawyer of his choice? What’s wrong with Muzorewa seeking justice in a court of law in Zimbabwe? Is little Mwonzora not allowed to professionally act in any case? This is BULSHIT mhani!” he said, hitting the table with his clenched fist. He immediately took his leave.

Two days later, I met Mr. Geza outside Kadoma OK Bazaars and I told him that I was leaving for Masvingo to start my own law firm. He beckoned me to his beautiful car. From the big brown envelope at the back seat, he took a thick wad of brand-new notes and shoved them into my hands. He told me to contact him if ever I needed anything. With the money Mr. Geza gave me, I was able to pay salaries for my staff at Masvingo for two months while I found my own feet.

A day after I had won the case in the Supreme Court on 27 September 1997, I received two unexpected phone calls. One was from Mr. Mangwana, congratulating me on my court victory. The other one was from Mr. Geza, congratulating me on my perseverance. “Ndimi vapfana vataida kuhondo imi,? he quipped.

Some years later, when both Mangwana and I were co-chairpersons of COPAC, we met Mr Geza at the Sheraton Hotel. What a happy reunion it was! Geza was particularly fascinated by this sudden twist of fate.

“Rovai basa vapfana. Tinoda Constitution kwayo”

After the 2013 referendum, I got another congratulatory message from Mr. Geza. He thought that the new constitution was good.

In January 2025, I held a press conference at which I laid out the MDC position on the so-called 2030 agenda. A few weeks later, I saw Cde Bombshell’s fiery videos! While some of the issues were purely Zanu PF matters which had nothing to do with us, on the subject of preservation of the constitution, we were in agreement.

Comrade Blessed Runesu Geza was an enigma and a liberated liberator. He was humane and kind. Fare thee well, dear brother. Till we meet again.