Heartbreaking Article About Dean du Plessis
Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 11:13 am
http://www.weeklystandard.com/Content/P ... b.asp?pg=2Dean du Plessis is one of the few white people left in Zimbabwe. He is 29 years old and blind. Most impressive about this remarkable man who displays more joie de vivre than most people who can see is that he has made a name for himself as a cricket commentator on the radio. He broadcasts daily from 5 to 6 P.M. on the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation and has also done commentary for the BBC. He thinks he is the first blind sportscaster in the world. For most of his schooling, he attended the Pioneer School for the Blind, in South Africa. Aside from his disability, he is a regular guy. "I like girls, good beer, and loud music," he tells me when I meet him at a favorite bar.
But he too has been a victim of the Mugabe regime, and his story shows how depraved it has become.
To understand what happened to Dean du Plessis, one must first understand something about Zimbabwean cricket. The national cricket team, like nearly every other facet of Zimbabwean life, has been forcibly politicized in recent years. It used to be one of the best cricket teams, if not the best, in the world. But at around the same time Mugabe began authorizing violent seizures of white-owned farms, he packed the Zimbabwe Cricket Union with ZANU-PF hacks. In April 2004, Heath Streak, one of the country's best cricketers and the national team's captain, was forced to resign over disputes related to racial quotas that led to the firing of many white players. Over the past several years, black and white players alike have quit as a result of political differences with those in charge. In a December 2005 broadcast, du Plessis stated the obvious about the condition of Zimbabwean cricket. "I criticized the people that run Zimbabwe cricket," he told me matter-of-factly. "They don't know anything about the sport."
The day after his broadcast, two men came to the Harare Toyota dealership where du Plessis works as a customer service representative. They told him to come with them. Although du Plessis could not see them, he knew what they had in mind. Still, du Plessis did not make a scene. "I didn't want to cause any attention," he says. "I didn't want anyone else to get involved; it's not fair on them."
The two men drove him for about a half hour, took him to an air-conditioned room, and sat him in what he describes as a "comfortable chair." They then played a recording of the broadcast in question.
"Is that you?" one of the men asked.
"You can hear my voice," du Plessis responded. "Why are you asking me?"
Disappointed with his insubordination, the men twisted his feet and beat his soles with a fan belt for half an hour. This is a form of torture common in Mugabe's Zimbabwe, and human rights NGOs have reported its being perpetrated against many individuals. Known as "falanga," it is used in other locales and is popular with dictatorships because it leaves few visible signs as the soles of the feet are thick and tough.
Up until our interview, du Plessis had not spoken of this torment.
Like many Zimbabweans, he too has fond memories of Mugabe's early years. He met the president in 1982, when Mugabe and his widely admired first wife, Sally, visited du Plessis's school. The president rubbed his head. "In those years I was very scared of the sirens," he explains, speaking of the president's ubiquitous motorcade. In a foreshadowing of his future outspokenness, du Plessis piped up as the First Family made their way to their car, "Please, Mr. Mugabe, I've got a terrible headache. Please don't put on the sirens." The motorcade left quietly, "like sedate human beings," du Plessis recalls. "Years ago Mugabe never used to be like this," he says, shaking his head. "In general, he was a very good man."
Du Plessis continues to broadcast, but he is careful about what he says. "I love my country. . . . Being away [at school] in South Africa I was deprived of growing up in the country I love so much."