That the world might know

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All photos C.2007 R Hammond
These are just some of the shocking images shown to the world last week of what life is really like in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe in the new millennium. They speak volumes. Nobody can now say “We didn’t know what it was like.”
New Zealand photographer Robin Hammond (32) went to Zimbabwe “because it seemed no one else was going”.
“The devastation of the country is an important story that needs to be told and the more I learnt about the disaster that is Zimbabwe today the more I realized it needed to be publicized,” Hammond told The Zimbabwean in an exclusive interview at the weekend.
“There is alarming ignorance in much of the western world about what is happening there. Unfortunately it is not just westerners who need educating – I was in Cape Town last year and cringed to hear people talking about Mugabe as a hero because he was willing to stand up to the west. This ignores the fact that he has managed to devastate a country and its people,” he said.

Robin Hammond recounts his experience of taking these images in Zimbabwe:
“My first couple of days in Zimbabwe were confusing. Walking around Harare, one could get the impression nothing was wrong. I felt safe. People were friendly. Pedestrians walked by in suits, there were nice cars, tall buildings and wide, clean streets. Things seemed to work. That was not what I had been led to believe.
I soon came to understand that in Zimbabwe things are not always as they seem.
“By the end of my two-week stay, I was scared and couldn’t wait to be on the other side of customs. I understood that the Harare I first saw was nothing but a veneer covering enormous suffering of a proud, resilient people who made things work in spite of a failing system. A people who had lived through a period of struggle and then great hope, only to have their dreams dashed.
“Since this story was first published, people keep talking about the risks I took to get these pictures. The risks were real. A local journalist tried to reassure me: the police wouldn’t kill me, he said, at least not on purpose. The real bravery though came from those who agreed to be photographed, who risked their lives to help me. I knew there was a threat of a two-year prison sentence for photographing without a permit, but that also extends to anyone caught helping me.
“I had a great responsibility to those I was photographing. I would be in trouble if I was caught, but the Zimbabweans who helped may never be seen again. I spent more time on the phone trying to arrange subjects than I did taking pictures. Those who accepted were truly brave.
“On two different occasions I was accosted by the police. The first time they turned up in force – six of them – and did a very good job intimidating me. They insisted on looking at the pictures in my camera. I had just taken a photo from hip level of a police officer after he had struck a street child on the head. They claimed this picture was proof I was a spy and this would be good evidence for when we went to court. But in the end all they really cared about were the contents of my wallet – Z$600,000 (Zimbabwe).
“A week earlier a photographer in Harare was hospitalized after a beating by the police. Two days after the beating, a friend saw him and described him as a white man turned black. A week before that, a journalist was imprisoned for five days without food and water before being expelled from the country. While I was there lawyers, including some in their 70’s, who gathered for a peaceful rally were beaten by police in front of passing motorists.
“Two days later I was approached by a police officer out of uniform. Once again a bribe saved me from the cells. Journalists in Harare were amazed when I told them that I had escaped twice by paying a bribe. Some saw it as a sign that the police were desperate to make ends meet, Others saw it as a positive sign that the police were taking what they could while they could, knowing that change was in the air.
For many photographers, the camera provides a form of protection from the reality of what they are capturing. There is a constant struggle not to be overwhelmed by the situation you are witnessing, as to be so would make it impossible to work. A certain level of detachment and determined professionalism is required to do the job. It wasn’t until I returned to London and edited the pictures that the tragedy of what I had seen became real.
“It is impossible to fathom how those in power do not know what is happening, and incredible to believe, if they do, how they continue to let it continue. I believe the media has a responsibility to try to make a difference. I hope my pictures will mean people can no longer use the excuse they didn’t know as a reason not to act.”