In another twist involving the public protector’s office‚ the Minister of Co-operative Governance an.
Shortly after the government of prime minister Robert Mugabe had acquired a controlling interest in Zimbabwe Newspapers, I witnessed a scene so stark in its ominous implications that it is embedded, almost inerasably, on my mind.
Mugabe had ordered a meeting with all the editors of the conglomerate which had previously been owned by South Africa's Argus Group.
A grant from the Nigerian government had eased the financial pangs of the acquisition.
By this time most of the former white editors had been eased out - all except one, then the acting editor of The Manica Post. He was an elderly gentleman who had worked for the group for ages.
There was a hurried huddle between Mugabe, and his then information minister, my former editor at The African Daily News, Nathan Shamuyarira.
The upshot was an announcement: the white editor was being asked to leave the conference. My recollection of the incident gets a little fuzzy here.
I know the suspicion was openly expressed that he might transmit to Ian Smith, the former rebel leader, a blow-by-blow account of Mugabe's address to the editors: so he had to go.
During the election campaign leading to independence, there had been two or three assassination attempts on Mugabe. An arch to the entrance of the international airport in what was still called Salisbury, had been blown up. You didn't need Sherlock Holmes or James Bond to hazard a guess as to the prime suspects.
So, the ultimate victim of all this suspicion was this acting editor of what was now a government newspaper who, because he was white, was expected, very strongly, to rush to his "handler", to relay Mugabe's address to Smith.
Though the war of liberation was not an openly black-white conflict, there was hardly anyone involved on both sides who could not identify "the enemy".
There was no let-up in the racial tension as we went into the first election after independence. In 1985, I attended a mass rally of Zanu-PF in the political hotbed of Highfield, Mugabe's bailiwick before he joined "the boys" in Mozambique.
His theme was still tinged with images of the whites as the enemy. He warned them, in very strong language, not to continue to resist "change".
It was almost inevitable that race relations would continue to deteriorate in Zimbabwe, as both sides appeared unyielding in their entrenched positions.
Only one white politician stuck with Zanu-PF throughout the turbulence of the period: Timothy Stamps now works in Mugabe's office as an adviser on health.
There are no other whites in Mugabe's government .
To many analysts, the land reform programme was Mugabe's "last stand" against what he must have perceived as white intransigence to accept they had been routed, and had to capitulate.
What the country has inherited, it would now seem, is an almost unbridgeable gap between white and black. Watching on the sidelines are Britain and South Africa, both with a vested interest in a peaceful resolution to the imbroglio.
Nobody is willing to hazard a guess as to which way the wind will blow - in Mugabe's favour, or in favour of those whites who would love to see his stubborn refusal to accommodate them proving to be his final undoing.