ARRESTED and IMPRISONED in ZAMBIA-FRONTLINE FELLOWSHIP-PETER HAMMOND

[Nat Quinn]

ARRESTED and IMPRISONED in ZAMBIA

Since reporting on our recent Prison Ministry in Mpumalanga, https://www.frontlinemissionsa.org/prayer--praise-updates/prison-discipleship-lecturing-on-african-church-history-during-mission-to-mpumalanga-congo-river-mission-and-youth-conference-in-kwazulu some have asked that we share details about when our mission team was imprisoned in Zambia:

On the Banks of the Zambezi
Sitting under armed guard in the sun on the Zambian bank of the Zambezi River, I knew we were in for a rough time and a long stay in a Zambian jail. The hostile expression on the face of the camouflaged soldier and the nervous way he fingered his AK47 spoke louder than the facts.

Unavoidably Detained
Suddenly a shout of triumph went up from a customs official, he had found a South
African identity book on Rob, who had been stripped and searched. “All residents in South Africa carry them, but see, it says I’m a British citizen,” his explanations fell on deaf ears. The Zambians were convinced they had four spies and no amount of logic was going to change that. “Railway carriages, locomotives and mielie meal from South Africa, you accept. What’s wrong with a missionary from South Africa?” Rob asked.

Acknowledging the Sovereignty of God
I called the team members together. “We are in for prison ministry men, but God is in control. Hear the Word of God.” There in the blazing sun at Kazangulu Ferry God prepared us for what lay ahead through the reading of the Psalms: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked came against me to eat up my flesh, my enemies and foes, they stumbled and fell. Though an army may encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war may rise against me, in this I will be confident.” Psalm 27:1-3

From Kazangulu to Livingstone
Our team of four Frontline Fellowship members, including myself as the Director of the Mission and three field workers, were arrested in Zambia on 7th October 1987. Our field team was in transit to Malawi with a 4-wheel-drive vehicle filled with Gospel booklets, evangelistic records and tracts, medical supplies and Bibles for Mozambiquan refugees. Arrested at Kazangulu, after refusing to bribe Zambian officials, our team was escorted under armed guard to Livingstone, where we were roughly handled and deprived of our shoes.

Searched and Interrogated
Our vehicle was searched by a dozen plain-clothed policemen, with another 40 policemen, soldiers and militia as spectators. Despite the Chief Inspector declaring at the end of the day that he was satisfied that the team were not carrying any military hardware or lethal weapons and that we obviously were missionaries, we were later physically abused and roughly man-handled into stinking concrete cells covered in human filth and deprived of water for over 20 hours.

Jailed in Livingstone
“Why are you taking away our Bibles? We are Christians. Surely you allow freedom of religion?” We were deprived of our Bibles and shoes, stripped and searched, then bundled down a dark, dirty corridor, through a heavy door and a barred gate, separated into two groups of two and thrown into the darkness of stinking concrete cells. The heavy door slammed behind us and the sickening sound of the heavy padlock closing confirmed that we were prisoners.

Amidst Filth and Fever
Our cell was smeared with human filth and the offensive smell was nauseating. The only light came from the stars through a small barred window high up in one wall. Soon we realised that we were not alone. Hordes of insects were there, feasting on the filth. Cockroaches crawled over my body and mosquitos attacked in swarms, turning our skin into relief maps of angry red bumps and bites. Two of us came down with malaria later.

A Prayer of Faith
We instinctively knelt on the bare, filthy concrete floor and prayed to God: “Lord may we not be released one moment before or after you want us to be released. May we glorify Your Name in the midst of this cell… Help us to learn the lessons You want to teach us… Give us courage, faith and wisdom to come through this ordeal in a way that honours You, O Lord.”

Singing in the Cells
Then we sang. Glorious, triumphant songs of praise and faith in God. Suddenly, out of our hearts we sang Christian songs I had scarcely known. Songs from church, from Christian tapes, from Hymn books, flooded into our memories. Then we noticed that our colleagues in the other cell were also singing and so we sang to one another and with one another in what must have been one of my most wonderful experiences of worshipping God to that date.

The Power and Presence of God
It was a dramatic moment in all of our lives as we refused to be depressed by our circumstances and resolutely determined to place our faith in our Great God and Saviour. “I am always aware of the Lord’s presence; He is near and nothing can shake me.” Psalm 16:8. There in the cold, dirty darkness of that Livingstone jail we experienced the presence and power of God, preparing us for the difficult and dangerous days ahead. “All who find safety in You will rejoice; they can always sing for joy.” Psalm 5:11

Anticipating Torture
We then tried to sleep and found in the cold of that damp cell that the only way to sleep was in a kneeling position, with our heads resting on our hands. In that way we conserved our body heat under our bodies in that folded over position and kept from shivering too much. I could not sleep much and between prayers, sought to mentally prepare myself for the tortures ahead. I visualised the beatings and electrocutions that I knew were part and parcel of Zambian interrogations. At every sound I expected their police to burst into the cell and drag one of us away for a midnight interrogation.

“Teach Us to Number our Days Aright”
Time dragged on. Without our watches it was hard to gauge time in those conditions, but I found the mental discipline of maintaining track of time helpful and found that I had been surprisingly accurate whenever I managed to see a policeman’s watch in the following days.

Encouragement from a Christian Policeman
It was daylight and we had already finished our morning exercises before the cell door opened and two uniformed policemen came in. “We are very sorry,” said one. “We know you are Christians, but this is out of our hands.” “May we have our Bibles and some water please,” I asked. “I will try and get permission, but this is Special Branch’s decision.” He looked awkward and reassured us before leaving, “I’m praying for you.”

Barefoot, Blindfolded and Shackled
A little later, two plain-clothed S.B. men came and roughly man-handled me off to an office filled with plain-clothed men. It was to be the first of six long periods of intensive interrogation. My body ached as I tried to find a comfortable position on the concrete floor. The sound of steps coming down the corridor. The unlocking of the padlock and the rattling of the bolt being pulled back. The door swung open and two hostile S.B. men appeared, “Get up!” As I stood up, they grabbed me and roughly forced me down the corridor. A camouflaged Zambian soldier in full kit with an AK47 with bayonet attached was standing at the end of the passage-way. Immediately, his belligerent attitude alerted me. When I reached him, he thrust me into a room full of heavily-armed Zambian soldiers. There were no uniformed police present. “Sign!” A Sergeant major indicated a book and pen. “What for?” “Your possessions.” “Where are our possessions, I’d like to see them first.” I was hit from behind, pushed into the table and forced at gunpoint to sign.
Then we were all blindfolded with filthy cloth, handcuffed to one another and, still barefooted, were roughly bundled out of the police station into what seemed to be an army truck. Every attempt to speak was quickly silenced.

Speculation in Silence
During the long time in silence and darkness I wondered what was happening. Evidently customs had handed us over to police who had passed the buck to Special Branch, who had now seemingly abandoned us to the army. Our hearts sank inside us. “The Lord is near to those who are discouraged; He saves those who have lost all hope.” Psalm 34:18

Execution?
I could feel that we were now driving over a dirt road. “Lord have you protected me through all those dangers in Mozambique and Angola, only for me to be shot in the back of the head and dumped in a shallow grave in Zambia?” “The Lord watches over those who obey Him, those who trust in His constant love. He saves them from death.” Psalm 33:18-19

Incarceration and Torture?
“But, Lord, if they don’t shoot us, then what lies before us except imprisonment and torture? You know that I do not fear death, but prison in a third-world jail that terrifies me.” At that moment a swift execution seemed to be the best option before us. “He will bring me safely back from the battles that I fight against so many enemies.” Psalm 55:18

Extradition?
The truck stopped and we were roughly off-loaded onto a concrete runway and led into what evidently was an aircraft. Like the cold hand of death itself around my throat, the thought struck me, “Lord, are they handing us over to the communists in Mozambique?… or Angola?”

To Mozambique or Angola?
My mind filled with visions of the burning huts and bloated corpses in Mozambique. The smell of death in Tete and the scarred bodies of Christians relating their tortures to me. The Mozambique Report I had published, exposing the atrocities and persecution in that war-torn Marxist land. Frelimo would probably love to get their hands on me. Would Zambia hand us over to the Marxists in Mozambique? Or Angola! My last Frontline newsletter dealt extensively with the horrors of communism in Angola, detailing the suffering of Christians there. “Teach me, Lord, what You want me to do and lead me along a safe path, because I have many enemies. Don’t abandon me to my enemies who attack me with lies and threats.” Psalm 27:11-12

To Prison with Praise
When our blindfolds were finally untied, we blinked in the sunlight outside Lusaka Police Station (550km from Livingstone). Chris laughed and as we looked at him, he pointed out, “Our handcuffs, they’re British-made!” The soldiers looked at us with suspicion as we saw the funny side of it. We were served with Detention Orders, then driven in the back of the truck, covered by soldiers’ AK47’s, to prison. Spontaneously we started to sing: “Praise the Name of Jesus! He’s my Rock! He’s my Fortress! He’s my Deliverer! In Him will I trust.”
The soldiers looked uncomfortable and people in the streets of Lusaka stared at the strange sight of four dirty, bedraggled, handcuffed Whites singing under armed guard. “Hallelujah, for the Lord our God the Almighty reigns!”
As we came into the prison itself, we were singing, “This is the day that the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it,” one of the soldiers looked at us and declared, “I’m very sorry, there must be some mistake. Tell them the truth. They must set you free.”

Lusaka Central Prison
We then went through the humiliating procedure of being admitted to prison. A prison officer was shocked at our appearance. “Where are your shoes? Don’t you have spare clothes? Soap? Toothbrush? Bibles?”
“We don’t have anything,” was our reply. “They took everything except what we are standing in.”
To another officer he murmured: “How can they treat people like this?” Then to us he said: “Remember, even the Apostle Paul was put in jail unjustly.” As he said that the Words of 2 Timothy 2:9 came to my memory: “Because I preach the Good News, I suffer and am even chained like a criminal. But the

Word of God is not in chains.”
It was a shock to walk through the gate and see about a thousand people filling that small, dusty courtyard of the prison. Fifteen-foot-high walls, with rolls of barbed wire around them. Sick, sad and unhealthy people in tattered clothes. Everywhere I looked, prisoners were sitting, standing, or squatting.
“Well, this looks like home for the next few weeks, months, or years.” I declared. There was no running water in the prison, every drop of water for over 1,000 people needed to be carried in daily, in containers. The stench from the open holes which served as toilets was unbearable. There was no sanitation to speak of and the whole prison seemed to be a disease factory.
We discovered that the 25-foot by 15-foot cells accommodated an average of 55 prisoners each. Most of the prisoners were not convicts, but were Remand, awaiting trial. Some claimed to have been awaiting trial since 1984 and before that. Disease and death were a constant reality in prison and we saw corpses being carried out of the cells.
We were locked up in our cells from sunset to sunrise, but were allowed to walk around the dirty, overcrowded yard during the daylight hours. We were placed in the Detainees’ cell and we settled in to warding off the clouds of flies and waiting for one of our names to be called, when we would be handcuffed and led away by S.B. men for another interrogation. “Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” Psalm 34:19

Amidst Detainees and Torture
In our Detainees’ cell in Lusaka Central Prison were people literally from around the world. There was a tall Muslim from Timbuktu in Mali, a man from Zaire, another from Kenya and one from Zimbabwe. There was a young man from Malawi, accused of spying for South Africa.
There was also a highly-educated engineer who used to be a major in the Zambian army. A 62-year-old Indian citizen had been in detention for over nine months. This father of five, was in jail in spite of being a millionaire, or maybe because of it. Reportedly some UNIP officials were greedy for his mining company. “He who justifies the wicked, and he who condemns the just, both of them alike are an abomination to the Lord.” Proverbs 17:15
A young Black South African, Isaiah Moya, had been jailed for 18 months. A truck-driver, with a wife and two children in Soweto, he had been framed by some ANC members who owed him money. He had been severely tortured at Lilayi Police Training Centre. They hung him upside down with his head in a bucket of water whilst being sadistically beaten.

He had been burnt with red-hot pokers and his body was covered with sores that swelled up and burst. He had also been electrocuted. At night his cries and screams woke us up. Yet we saw what a fine Christian this innocent young victim of a miscarriage of justice was. He spent hours daily on his knees in fervent prayer and in Bible study. At nights we would sometimes sing Christian hymns together. I remember the night we sang “Amazing Grace.” When we finished, we heard choruses of singing coming from several other cells. “The Lord knows when our spirits are crushed in prison; He knows when we are denied the rights He gave us; When justice is perverted in court, He knows.” Lamentations 3:34-36

Preaching in Prison
As I entered the squalor of that overcrowded prison, the Scripture came to my mind: “But you be watchful in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, fulfil your ministry.” 2 Timothy 4:5
Immediately we started testifying of our faith in Christ and discussing Biblical teaching with Muslims and other people in our cell. Daily, we held prayer meetings and Bible studies (without Bibles, we had to rely on what we had memorised). We sang Gospel songs to the prisoners and counselled them in the ways of God.

Service Disrupted
On the first Saturday, we held a church service for the whole prison and were about to begin the sermon when some officials came in and one, calling himself “the Commander in Chief ” forbade us to speak and declared that he would give the sermon. There followed an incomprehensible jumble of foul language and fiction basically trying to whip up hatred against Whites, claiming we were “terrorists” and “mercenaries,” “the brainbox of all criminals”, responsible for “millions of deaths.” “His mouth is full of cursing and deceit and oppression; under his tongue is trouble and iniquity.” Psalm 10:7

Prison Evangelism
It did not seem to impress anybody and the next day, Sunday 11th October, we held a glorious worship service, singing, testifying and preaching to over a thousand eager and responsive prisoners. After that we had a constant stream of prisoners requesting spiritual counselling, or asking for prayer. We were also regularly brought food and water by other detainees and prisoners. Which was just as well, as the officials only fed us twice in the sixteen days.
Whether by accident or design, I was prevented from presenting further sermons by the S.B. police, who came and took me, handcuffed, away from two other services just before I could preach.

Prison Ministry
Throughout the long days in Zambian detention, our Frontline field team held Bible studies, prayer meetings, church services, counselled and prayed with other prisoners and detainees, witnessed to our Interrogators, sang Gospel songs even when being driven under armed guard to prison and steadfastly sought to glorify God even when sick with malaria and in the deepest darkness of the filth-ridden, mosquito-infested concrete cells.

Intense Interrogations
For the next two weeks we were incarcerated in the grossly overcrowded Lusaka Central Prison and repeatedly interrogated by officials from the Zambian Special Branch, Military Intelligence and the President’s Office, sometimes with ANC officials in attendance. It seemed that almost every Frontline newsletter and book I had ever written was lying face up on the table in front of the interrogators. They did not get them from us as we did not travel with any Frontline Fellowship literature on these missions behind enemy lines. “What do you think of socialism?” asked one of the interrogators. “Socialism is legalised theft. Institutionalised envy. And it just doesn’t work. As Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher has observed: The problem with socialism is that sooner or later you run out of other people’s money.” This was followed by much abuse and anger expressed against the Iron Lady of Great Britain. “What do you think of Bishop Tutu? “The propagator of Liberation Theology. A false prophet and false teacher.” I replied. There were some murmurs of discontent and one interrogator asked me how it was that I could judge another Christian. I replied: “Desmond Tutu denies basic Christian teachings such as the inerrancy of Scripture, the Deity of Christ, the Virgin Birth. Tutu’s message is one of Marxism, using religious fancy dress.”
Another interrogator leaned forward and asked what I thought of Nelson Mandela and the ANC? Every eye was fixed upon me with expressions of hostility. I knew that whatever I said I would be in trouble. Taking a deep breath, I replied: “The ANC are guilty of murdering civilians, planting landmines in dirt roads that have killed farmers and their families, throwing hand grenades into the homes of black policemen and burning alive elected black town councillors and mayors. They are terrorists.” Now there was an uproar of outrage and hostility being expressed against me.
The man who was evidently the chief interrogator looked at me and asked: “What is your opinion of his excellency, the President of the Republic of Zambia, Dr. Kenneth Kaunda?” “I have never met him and have never written any articles on Zambia. But why are you asking these questions? You evidently have my writings in front of you and are well aware of my position. Am I here because I have broken any of the laws of Zambia? Or am I here because of my opinions, convictions and things that I have written?”
My head seemed to explode as someone must have hit me in the back of my head with something very hard. Either a truncheon or a rifle butt. I fell to my knees and may have lost consciousness for a moment. Or maybe for a lot longer. I woke up with my head in a bucket of water. Well, not only water.
There followed a series of degrading and painful experiences as Special Branch sought to break me. They wanted to know the names of my contacts in Malawi and Mozambique. I could not remember. They wanted to know how we would enter Mozambique from Malawi. “We are planning to minister amongst Mozambiquan refugees inside Malawi,” I replied. “Then why do you have so much camping equipment and even maps and compasses?” exclaimed the SB officer. “We are a small mission and we have little money. We need to camp wherever we stay. We never stay in hotels”. I replied. They kept probing and pressuring me for contacts, where we were going inside Mozambique, what crossing points would be used and other information that, of course, I could not reveal. It was absolutely imperative that I say nothing that could endanger persecuted Christians in Mozambique.
When I asked why they were interested in what went on in Mozambique, I was told that “Frelimo are our comrades!”

Mao’s Little Red Book
At one point I asked if I could have my Bible back, please. I could see it over on the table in the corner with a whole pile of our other possessions in the office at Lusaka Central Police station where I was being interrogated. The Special Branch interrogator smiled and pulled out a little red book and handed it to me. “This is my bible,” he said. “This is the only bible you need here.” Upon examining it, I saw that it was an English translation of Mao Tse Tung’s red book. I handed it back to him. “Mao cannot forgive your sins,” I replied. “Neither can Marxism lead anyone to Heaven. Mao never rose from the dead. But there is an empty tomb in Jerusalem.”

International Outcry
While we languished in prison in Zambia, we were tormented with doubts assailing our minds. Does anyone know we are here? Would anyone care? Is anyone doing anything to get us out? Actually, thousands of believers in churches around the world were praying. God was working in the most amazing ways to answer those prayers and open prison doors. Over a thousand calls were made to the Zambian embassy in Washington by concerned Christian supporters of our Mission. Representations were made to the embassy personally by related missions protesting the detentions. Over five hundred letters were sent to the British Foreign Office in London.
Letters, telephones and telexes hummed all around the world and Christians were mobilised to pray and to act. To all those people we express our heartfelt gratitude. “For this cause everyone who is godly shall pray to you in a time when You may be found; surely in a flood of great waters they shall not come near him.” Psalm 32:6

The Iron Lady Intervenes
A good friend of ours, Denis Walker of the Rhodesia Christian Group, ensured that the British Prime Minister was informed of our plight just before her departure for the Commonwealth Conference in Vancouver.

Confrontation with Kaunda
There Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was subjected to haranguing by Zambian dictator, Kenneth Kaunda, who was outraged that Britain was refusing to place economic sanctions on South Africa. Margaret Thatcher responded by asking why Zambia did not herself place sanctions on South Africa? Kaunda responded that, that would place many people out of work. “Exactly”, responded the British Prime Minister, “and as South Africa is one of our most important trading partners, many British citizens would be placed out of work if I were to impose sanctions on South Africa. Quite aside from the many South Africans themselves who would be placed out of work.”

Double Standards
She then went on to relate how Zambians were dependent on South African maize grown in the Orange Free State, how Zambian Airways was maintained by South African Airways, how Zambian Railways was maintained by South African Railways, how South African veterinarians cared for Zambia’s cattle and how many Zambians were migrant workers in South Africa.

Hypocrisy
Kenneth Kaunda then declared that because of South Africa’s human rights abuses, Britain should impose sanctions. It was at this point that Margaret Thatcher produced our information.
“Who are you to speak about human rights abuses?” She challenged Kaunda: “You are the unelected dictator of a one-party state! Four British missionaries are being held without trial as presidential detainees in your overcrowded Lusaka Central Prison, tortured and abused by your own security forces!” Kaunda was dumbstruck and humiliated. He ordered our immediate release.

News Headlines
On Tuesday, 20th October, one of our fellow detainees exclaimed, “You’re in the paper!” There, on the front page of the Times of Zambia, the headlines declared: “CHURCH FOUR BEING HELD.” It was the first indication we had that anyone outside knew we were in jail. It was also interesting to note that despite us being in Zambian custody for over fourteen days as “suspected spies,” the “Comrade secretary of state for defence and security,” declared that he was “not aware of the detentions!” By then, the Zambian investigations obviously must have confirmed that they had unnecessarily jailed four innocent foreign nationals in transit and interfered with a legitimate mercy mission to refugees in Malawi.

Reversal of Fortunes
The next day, we were called to the prison gate and met by our interrogators. Instead of slapping handcuffs on our wrists, they smiled and shook our hands. “You’re going home!” they declared. I must admit we were sceptical, it seemed as if it could be another psychological trick to break down our resistance. Dare I hope? As one of our other members said, “I’ll believe it only when I see South Africa again.” But the attitudes of the police had totally changed. When the time came for us to be released, hundreds of prisoners bade us goodbye, some with tears in their eyes. Somehow, they had come to love us. “I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart; I have declared Your faithfulness and Your salvation; I have not concealed Your lovingkindness and Your truth from the great assembly.” Psalm 40:10

The Long Road Home
We were escorted hastily through the dozen road blocks between Lusaka and Kazangulu, with our captors even buying us ice-cream on the way and re-united with our vehicle and equipment. When we discovered R5,000 worth of personal effects missing, they promised to find, or replace them again (which they never did). Clearly something had happened to so radically change our interrogators’ attitudes. Having missed the ferry, we camped the night at the customs post. Not even the mosquitos could ruin that first tentative taste of being almost free. We washed our filthy bodies in the Zambezi river.

By midday the next day, we were given our passports and escorted to the ferry, where the eight interrogators waved us good-bye. “See you again,” said one. Rob responded: “The only way I want to see you again is from 10,000 feet through a bomb sight!” “For You, O God, have tested us; You have refined us as silver is refined. You brought us into the net; You laid affliction on our back. You have caused men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; but You brought us out to rich fulfilment …I will pay You my vows, which my lips have uttered and my
mouth has spoken when I was in trouble.” Psalm 66:10-14

Free Again!
There followed four more roadblocks through Botswana as we drove through the night, savouring our new-found freedom. Friday 23rd October, we crossed over into South Africa and saw the welcome sight of the blue S.A.P. uniforms. “Are we glad to see you,” I said, “Where’s the flag?” When they heard where we had been, they raised the orange, white and blue South African Flag thirty minutes early. It was a great exhilarating feeling to be home and free again! “Praise God with shouts of joy! …Sing to the Glory of His Name… Say to God: Your power is so great that Your enemies bow down in fear before You… I cried to Him for help; I praised Him with songs. If I had ignored my sins, the Lord would not have listened to me. But God had indeed heard me. He listened to my prayer.” Psalm 66:1; 17-19

International Intrigue
In 2001 Peter Stiff published Warfare by Other Means which claimed (on pages 292 to 294) that our arrest was orchestrated by British and South African Military Intelligence as a “sacrificial lamb” to counter Kenneth Kaunda’s attacks on the Iron Lady at the Commonwealth conference in Vancouver. We had been set up and Zambian forces were leaked false information to lead them to arrest our team, all of whom were British passport holders. This arrest of British Missionaries was designed to embarrass the Zambian president and blunt his campaign to force Britain to place full economic sanctions against South Africa. The stakes were high, they claimed. Well, the risks to ourselves were also very high. With friends like these who needs enemies?

The above article is from a chapter in Frontline – Behind Enemy Lines for Christ which is available in both hardback and softcover from Christian Liberty Books https://www.christianlibertybooks.co.za/item/frontline__behind_enemy_lines_for_christ_hc or from Frontline North America https://f-na.company.site/. Frontline – Behind Enemy Lines for Christ is also available through print on demand https://www.lulu.com/shop/peter-hammond-and-john-eidsmoe-and-erlo-stegen-and-patrick-johnstone/frontline-behind-enemy-lines-for-christ/paperback/product-kqgm6n.html?q=&page=1&pageSize=4 and as E Book. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1139850

 

Dr. Peter Hammond Frontline Fellowship PO Box 74 | Newlands | 7725 | Cape Town | South Africa Tel: +27 21 689 4480 peter@frontline.org.za http://www.FrontlineMissionSA.org website | email

 

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