African Genesis

Chapter 1
"Beginnings

My earliest memories are of being held by my mother or a succession of Shona nannies in the bright sunlight or in the shade of the verandah of some isolated farmhouse. Bougainvilleae blooms nestling against the sturdy, whitewashed farmhouse walls and pillars would compete with our colorful children's jumpers to catch the eye and draw it away from the monotony of dried-out grass on the lawn and the lumpy flower beds with their wilting sunflowers and roses. These last, together with the odd fruit tree, were planted by my mother and were a visible testament to her housewifely diligence, if not her gardening ability, in every home we moved to.

I would race my tricycle down the cracked stone verandah floors or draw patterns in the dirt, watched patiently by the nanny or my mother. My mother would usually have her hands full acting out her many roles, which included that of veterinarian, inter-tribal negotiator, de facto boss on the farm, as well as mother and teacher (we studied by correspondence in the early days, my mother the tutor, because we lived so far from any city or town)."

I remember leopards used to go round our house at Forest Hill every night. Our small pekinese dog Weenie Whiskers Wong used to come indoors early ! We hired a local hunter, Mr Kemp, to try and see if he could shoot the leopards. He came in the dusk one evening promising my mother "Don't worry Louise, we will sort it out for you." The next day he said he hadn't come across even the whiff of a big cat, and drove off. Later in the day one of the staff ran up to the farm house and asked "Medem" (my mother) would she kindly like to come and see something. He directed her to a path in the bush. On the path were clear imprints of Mr Kemp's shoes from the night before, and behind his foot prints were leopard footprints ! Needless to say, we did not see much of Mr Kemp again!

We eventually got rid of the leopards by following the advice of a local B.S.A (British South Africa) policeman, who suggested blowing on whistles on the hour, every night. That did the trick- the leopards never returned.

"The leopard hunts in darkness: Africa safaris"

Apart from the years we lived on farms I was schooled at the Catholic private school (equivalent to a British public school) called St. George's where my mother taught for a while too. One of her students, she told me later, was Peter Godwin ,who later wrote the award-winning Mukiwa and When a Crocodile Eats the Sun on life in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe in those turbulent years.

Excerpt from a chapter from my memoir on life in Rhodesia in the 60's and 70's: "St. George's (College) was British in character, if not in fact, and on a wet day one could be forgiven for thinking that one was wandering round Eton or Ampleforth. Its distinctive red blazers, boaters and bizarre public school rituals all served to give St George's a particular appeal, especially for those of a British background-though in Rhodesia it was termed, accurately enough, a "private" school. Year after year the rugby and cricket teams slugged it out with Prince Edward, the other exclusive Rhodesian boys' school. Girls only began to be admitted when I was in my last year there, and then only in small numbers...I got on well with the majority of the kids, and the camaraderie between pupils was no doubt due, at least partially, to the fact that there was now a war on between Rhodesia and terrorist forces operating out of neighbouring...countries." (Copyright 2001)
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One of the "bizarre" public-school (read "private school") rituals was that First Formers could not enter the toilets except via the first arch in a six-arch toilet block;second-formers had the privilege of both first and second arches, and so on! If you were caught infringing, not even the Jesuits ,who ran the school, would save us from our "inquisition" at the hands of the Neanderthal-looking Sixth formers!.

I was not your typical rugby-playing, gun-toting Rhodie and when I wasn't plagued with various illnesses such as malaria, meninginis and the more usual other childhood ailments (probably one of the reasons I write lenses and articles on health matters-e.g: this for those who do a bit of travelling) - I was curled up in the boughs of a jacaranda tree reading, or as a child going on "adventures" with my brother and our trusty mate Brendan in the days when there was relative peace. This would often involve "spying" on a neighbouring farm, where, sequestered safely in one of the farmer's haystacks, replete with sandwiches and other "operational necessities" we would observe events, usually the progress of the elderly farmer's wife sweeping up the mess outside her house. One day we were spotted and she chased us all the way home. Then there was the time we caused a fire in the dry grasslands north of the city, after trying to build a fire-break round our tinder-dry grass "fort". As we scrambled off in the smoke on our bikes we realised we had left our dog Snuffy within the fort and had to go back and retrieve her before she met a grisly end.

From my autobiographical notes:
"Many Rhodesians at this time began emigrating to South Africa or 'back home' to Britain. It was no doubt for this reason that Ian Smith had even consented to talk with his sworn enemies, Mugabe and Nkomo. Oil and guns he could purchase. But people and morale were resources that, once gone, could never be replaced ( and this would obviously have terminal effects for the white administration).

One afternoon, after my mother had been holding one of her impromptu counselling sessions with Expense, our cook, (yes that was his name!). She frequently would have long chats with him in the early evenings whilst she was having a cigarette on the verandah, and would quiz him on his love life and other topics of interest to her, which I think endeared her to himand thge other "servants". The conversation turned to the political situation one day.

"If we have elections, who do you think will win, Expense?" she asked.
"Oh Medem, dat's easy: Mugabe, Medem." he replied without hesitation.
"Oh, and why do you say that? Isn't Bishop Muzorewa (the moderate candidate favoured by Ian Smith) much better? I'm interested," enquired Mother.
"Yes, Medem, Bishop is all right;but Mugabe is de one we are afraid of," said Expense simply.

And therein lives the tragedy of much of the Zimbabwean (in fact, African) situation: democracy and the respect for the ballot box have largely been replaced by narrow, party-political interests based on tribal lines. If one has never lived in Africa one will never understand
.
I was quite interested to speak to a black Zimbabwean some twenty years later in another part of the world entirely: New Zealand, where there is a growing community of ex-Rhodesians, South Africans and Brits. My Zimbabwean friend talked about the "good old days" when people had "plenty of food to eat" and it was relatively peaceful. I asked him when that was and he replied it was "When Smith was in charge". I thought how ironic that with all the talk of freedom fighting, black Zimbabweans in and out of the country still do not believe they have freedom and in fact believe things are much worse than in the days of the -admittedly imperfect-British and Rhodesian regimes! Such are the ironies of history.

But I cannot shake the conviction that God will shine on Zimbabwe again, and it will not just be depressing stories that we hear from there. The country I grew up in I probably would not recognise if I went back there and I have never called myself a Zimbabwean because I left many years ago before the changes. But I still feel an affinity for Africa generally and the wonderful people there whom culture, tribal tradition, economics and narrow political interests have conspired to keep in a place of woeful poverty and disadvantage, but thankfully- not a poverty of spirit. People who have nothing materially there are still in my memory a happier-looking people than their materially rich, complacent, British, European and even Australasian counterparts. There patience and longsuffering with their circumstances and their leaders can teach us a lot in the West, even if we are more practised at democracy.

Yes, good things will come to this country again!

Victoria Falls has got to be one of the wonders of the world. David Livingstone , the famous missionary, on viewing the Falls as he canoed down the Zambezi river was told it was called "Mosi-oa-tunya" ("The Smoke that thunders"), a very apt description then and now.
Victoria Falls Hotel restaurant.
As one gets closer one hears the roar of the water as it plunges over 300 feet into the depths and the "smoke" can be seen a long way off.. Livingstone said these were ""scenes so lovely (they) must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight". He named the falls in honour of his Queen, and his statue still presided over the Falls when we were there..

I took my fiancee there in the late Eighties for a holiday (I now lived in the U.K) and we stayed at the Victoria Falls Hotel. The old colonial feel was there and the sunsets were spectacular. After a day of gazing at the wonders of the Falls and feeling the spray through the rain-forest fronds on our backs, watched from on high by what appeared to be a performing troupe of monkeys, it was great to recline on deckchairs with a "Sun-downer", and see the dying embers of the sunset. Later that night we were treated to a performance of African dancers and went to bed with the noise of crickets in full song. Those were the days!

For those interested in a bit of adventure, on the other sid of the tea-pot shaped country there is also the the Troutbeck Resort in Nyanga where as kids we often stayed, and enjoyed the very Scottish-looking scenery and trout lakes. Mind you, that was some years ago, so have no up-to-date info on this hotel. You may want to try neighboring South Africa for great game resorts such as Londolozi Game Reserve Hotel in the world-famous Kruger National Park ;or try this lodge on the Zambian side. It's called ;Ana_All_Inclusive_Tree_Lodge, the name given for the tree by none other than Livingstone apparently, and a hotel which elephants frequent!

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