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Dear All,
It seems that, so often in my mails to you, I have a specific person, or group of people, to tell you about, that I've
decided that, perhaps, I should start a "Let me tell you about...." series!! There have been happy ones, and sad
ones, haven't there? You've had "Let me tell you about Gabby", "Let me tell you about the Misundu children"....
they've been a couple of the happier, more hopeful ones. Then you've had "Let me tell you about Irene", "Let
me tell you about Ndola General Hospital", "Let me tell you about the little girl I picked up at night wandering
along the Misundu road": those were a few of the sadder ones.
Well.... now I've got another one to add to the 'more hopeful' list. So..... let me tell you about Victor.....
It is absolutely necessary in this area we live in to have a night watchman and, in our case, being such a large plot
(15 acres) we have two, named Duncan and Victor. Victor started with us about 6 weeks ago, and we liked him from the start.
He's a very tall, cheerful, young man in his early 20s, with a ready smile and a willing disposition. He lived with his wife
and 15 month old baby boy in a tiny one roomed hut in one of the worst squatter townships in the Ndola district, called Senia
Compound (very close to the farming area we live in). About 4 weeks ago, though, he arrived for the start of his shift looking
very despondent, and asked to talk to me personally. He told me this story: he had returned to his home one recent morning,
to find his wife smacking the baby for spilling some water. Victor reprimanded her, and told her that the baby was too young
to understand, but she became very angry with him, and told him that he had no right to speak to her about it because the
baby wasn't even his. In addition, she said she didn't want to be married to him any more and, on the day he spoke to me,
he had returned home that same morning to find that she had left, taking with her all their belongings that she could carry,
including the mattress, bedding, pots & pans etc., leaving him with next to nothing. He wanted advice as to what he could
do about the situation but, as there had been no formal wedding as such, and as the cost of anything quite as advanced as
DNA testing is so prohibitive, there was little we could do to help.
The following Saturday night, we were surprised to find that Victor hadn't pitched up for his shift, and had to hurriedly
arrange with one of our other workmen to stand in for him. However, he turned up early Sunday afternoon, very apologetic,
with the following story: early Saturday evening, his 'wife' had sent a message to him from Luanshya (where she was currently
staying), to say that the baby was sick. Now, Victor loves that baby, whether it's his or not, so he rushed to Luanshya where
the baby had been admitted into hospital with malaria. He stayed with the child until his temperature came down and it was
evident he was going to be OK. Then he returned to his home, only to find that, with no-one in residence there, the thieves
had come in and cleared out pretty much everything else he possessed, including the few extra pieces of clothing he had.
Although he never asked me for anything (and this impressed me a great deal), I arranged for some clothes and bedding for
him from the charity supplies that we brought with us from Saudi Arabia.
A couple of days later, Victor asked Peter whether he could move into the little hut which is right down the bottom of
our property, beside the pump house. This hut had been occupied by one of the previous tenant's workers who was employed
to guard the pump from being stripped of its switches, cables etc. However, it had been standing empty, minus its roofsheets,
for a couple of months and, when we walked down with Victor to have a look, the sight that greeted us was appalling. The
hut consists of nothing more than one room, that had been encroached upon by vegetation, and which was soaked from the rain;
the timber roofing frame was completely rotten, and the walls were threatening to disintegrate. Victor, though, felt very
excited at the prospect of moving in: he said it was better (and bigger) than his place in Senia Compound, and he said that
he'd feel safer on our farm. Pete and I talked it over, but decided that the place was too dire for any human being to live
in. Quite honestly, I wouldn't put my animals in there .... and I'm truly not exaggerating.
So.... we decided to do the following: to move Gabby & Jane into the other 2-bedroomed chalet (like the one Jay
lives in); to move Musonda, his wife Cecilia and baby Blessings into the one-bedroomed chalet vacated by Gabby & Jane
(Musonda already lived on the farm when we took possession of it, as he worked for the previous tenants and, as he is a hard
worker, we decided to keep him on); and, finally, to move Victor into the small hut vacated by Musonda and his family.
The 'big shift' took place last weekend, with everyone packing up their few belongings, and cleaning their 'old' space
in preparation for the new tenants! On the Sunday afternoon, Pete and I drove with Victor to his place in Senia Compound
to collect what few remaining belongings he had, namely his metal-frame bed on which he'd been sleeping without a mattress
at all since his wife's departure, plus a few cardboard boxes filled with a strange variety of empty plastic cartons, bottles
etc. The sight of his meagre possessions was so sad and humbling, and it made me ashamed for all the times that we complained
about those little inconveniences in our own lives. The trip into Senia, too, was humbling: it is an appalling place, the
likes of which I've never seen ... crowded, noisy and filthy.... and I could well understand why Victor so longed for the
chance to stay even in that hut beside the pump house. As it is, his 'new' place is still only a one-roomed building, but
has a separate toilet block adjoined to it and, of course, he now has the added safety, security and peace & quiet of
being on the farm. In addition, we gave him a mattress so now he can sleep in a little more comfort. His wife has finally
come to her senses and has returned to him with baby Reuben who most definitely IS Victor's son as he's the spitting image
of his father! I spoke to Victor a couple of days after his move, and asked him how he was settling in; he told me he was
so happy, and you can see it in his face. In fact, everyone's better off, and Pete and I are thrilled: Jane & Gabby
had been living in a very awkward situation with their previous accommodation being only a one-bedroom dwelling. At the beginning,
Jane slept in the closet, but recently she and Gabby had changed things around so that he used the living room as his bedroom
and she took the bedroom as her own. It still meant, though, that they had very little privacy and Gabby always had to walk
through Jane's room to reach the bathroom. Musonda, Cecilia and baby Blessings now have a proper little house with a small
kitchen and bathroom, and they are very happy. And Victor.... well, Victor is over the moon.
The number of people accompanying us to church each Sunday is increasing every week it seems! As well as all the Misundu
children, Musonda & his family now accompany us regularly, and Victor came for the first time this last Sunday. We don't
press it on them .... we just extend the invitation and they jump at it. Next week, we will also be taking Victor's wife,
so that will make 14 of us, not counting the 2 babies! In addition, Jay often brings along some of his friends, so there
are times when our number approaches 20!!! The vehicles are filled to capacity, and I think we need to start praying for
a mini-bus!!!!
On a more mundane front .... the rains have been very disappointing this year for all the farmers and crop growers. Between
the months of October/November and March/April, the weather is supposed to be very wet indeed but, although we've had the
odd bad storms, we haven't had nearly enough rain, and the maize (which is the staple food here) is suffering. Having said
that, what few storms we have had have been torrential and the roads in and around town are terrible. In fact, the road leading
from our farming area into town has become so broken up that ordinary salon cars are finding it increasingly difficult to
get through, and I am very thankful for my pick-up truck. The state of the roads plays havoc on one's shock absorbers: we
have already replaced the rear shocks on Pete's salon at a cost of £45 each, and they already need replacing for a second
time! (Thankfully, for some reason, shocks for my pick-up are about half the price!)
Well, I reckon that's all you'll cope with for now! So ... I shall sign off. Do keep in touch with us - we love to hear
from you.
Much love and God bless.
Salwa
Letter 7
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