Strip Road
Preparations
In Salisbury, capital of Southern
Rhodesia the couple stayed at Meikles
Hotel hired a car
and armed with letters of introduction, addresses
and recommendations
visited all manner of ventures
listened to advice, spoke to
officials studied equipment.
Then they headed east along
the main road to Marandellas
two strips of tar for the wheels
or, in the case of oncoming traffic, only one.
After Marandellas
the strips gave way to a dust-road
that lead to Gomboli:
ten thousand pristine acres
north of Capricorn
but sufficiently high for the air to be cool and dry.
The Herds
Cheetah and Anthill — African Huts
Gomboli
On their first day
Blair, with the aid of a factotum
mustered a work force
from those offering their services.
The ones he accepted - he accepted almost all
started right away, building for themselves
huts of stick and mud, thatched with tall
grass and floored with hardened cow dung.
On that same day Margaret
crawled out of bed at dawn
saddled her borrowed mare
- their own horses were en route from Capetown -
and galloped out onto the plains
dotted with kopjies of granite
and hills made by busy ants.
It bothered her that she disturbed the
herds ostrich, sable, eland and kudu
that galloped away, long before she could reach
them let alone ride with them.
Life in Africa would not always
be the way she planned.
In whirlwind activity
the couple slaved from dawn to dusk on
horseback, in truck, ox cart or tractor
whatever served best
Native Cattle
supervising, building, clearing, planting,
tobacco, cotton, mealies
and in frost-protected areas
fruit trees: mango, papaya, avocados and lychee.
They built
barn, shed, store, stable, silo, dairy and pigsties
along with dips - ticks were a problem –
which together with dogs that Blair used for hunting
they had bought locally.
Whites referred to the latter as
Egyptian whippets, all rib and prick
for always being scrawny
regardless of what they ate.
As personal pets
they imported three Great Danes from Britain
pedigreed, all as big as ponies.
At dusk the couple came
home to their house on the
kopjie: walls of granite
and steps arcing away from a door of
teak. After wallowing in warm baths
then changing from khakis into
silk they’d sip Scotch by the pool
and dine from silver salver.
Standards must be upheld
regardless.
Baboon
Hidden Lives
One evening
Blair lounged
in long-limbed elegance on the steps
with Margaret at his side
blowing perfect smoke rings
into the star-studded night.
Suddenly from the land below
desperate screams pierced the
silence. Margaret jumped to her feet.
AWhat=s that?@
ADon=t worry,” drawled Blair “just
dinner for a family that needs it.@
He spoke of a leopard with cubs
living in a den on a neighbouring kopjie.
AThat was a person,@ said Margaret.
A No, not a person. One of our myriad bobbejaans.
Destructive bastards those baboons!@
Margaret sighed
AAfrica,@ she muttered.
ASo violent and messy, enough to spoil dinner.@
ACan=t have that,@ said Blair
taking her arm, escorting her inside
for their own less gory dining.
A big and awkward baby.
Soldier
At weekends Blair and Margaret threw
parties for house-guests from Salisbury.
As always they danced and feasted lavishly
played tennis, ping-pong and swam.
AI understand, Blair,@ commented a visiting dignitary
Awhy you don=t hanker for home.@
Home, word used by white Rhodesians for Britain.
Blair felt he was under attack, became defensive.
AWe maintain standards, go back
often do what we did before
attend party, show, gallery, shop.
We=re English, not African. Haven= t gone native.@
ASo,” said the man arching an eyebrow
“you would fight for your country?”
Outrageous!
AOf course! How doubt it?@
The year was 1939.
Blair joined up, was commissioned
marched with the army north
chased Italians from Abyssinia and Somalia.
Stationed in Egypt, he fought Jerry
before witnessing in Italy the end of Fascism
with Mussolini dangling by his feet at the gas station.
Margaret, pregnant when he left
managed on her own.
Felt from the start, even though as yet unborn
the child would be an inconvenience.
Out on the farm all day.
Margaret Manages
Although Morgan was on his way
Margaret made no concessions
spent her days as before in truck or on horseback
checking on gangs, workshops, transport, stables
overseeing building, planting, growing, harvesting
supervising fishpond, poultry, vegetables, cattle -
Frieslands for milk, Aberdeen Angus for beef - even
experimented with goats, but they did n’t last after a
rambunctious buck spotted his own image
in the gloss of her Studebaker and butted
it with enthusiasm and repeatedly.
The farm was a commercial enterprise
run for private gain, but also feeding the country
providing export, supporting empire and ally.
Margaret came from a family of empire builders
- India, Kenya, Caribbean, Sudan -
and the habits of command came easily to her.
Throughout childhood, portraits of her forbears
- moustachioed, weighted with medal -
glared at her from the walls of her ancestral home.
Emulating them was as much a given
as her flashing green eyes and slender neck. In
running Gomboli, she had a legion of minions
both black and white, to guide and assist
yet she was always in charge
and like most of her kind
harsh with the intransigent, fair with the compliant
school, clinic, housing, food, pay
all generous by standards of the day.
Nanny Lovely waits in the wings.
Nanny Lovely Speaks
Och-Poor-Wee-Mite was shrieking again
Nanny couldn’t bear to hear a child cry.
Her sculpted lips
lifted at the corners, given to laughter
Where was Nanny Scotland? Not attending her duty!
She who came all the way from Britain
supposedly trained to raise babies
was star
ving the child.
Ridiculous!
Bottles! Formulas!
What the reason for a woman=s breast?
Why didn’t his mother suckle him?
Why so distant?
A child needed the comfort of his mother’s body
in the past nine months
had come to know its rhythms, sounds and moods.
The effervescence of Nanny=s bounteous nature
could not resist the absurdity of the situation. She
erupted into laughter
stored ever-ready in rounded cheek.
Then an exceptionally loud bellow from the nursery
reminded her of the victim of this folly.
She wiped away the mirth, stuck out her
chin entered the nursery.
African, Anonymous
Nurture
Fearless Nanny Lovely picked
up the screaming infant crooned
sweet nothings in Shona held
him to her chest.
He quietened, tried to suckle
so she settled on a chair, pulled aside her
bib unbuttoned her blouse
offering him the abundance of her breast.
Looking down at the fair head on her dark skin
she noticed how different the image
to similar sessions with Isaac
yet the noisy sucks, slurps and burps were the
same, as too her sense fulfilment
for she knew with her God-given riches she
nurtured not only Och- Poor-Wee-Mite but
Africa, the world and the future too. At
mission school Nanny had learnt that
Christianity=s exhortation to love suited her nature.
No vendettas, no violence, no resentments for Nanny
not even toward Nanny Scotland.
As Nanny sat nursing the child, she sang the songs
that she sang to her sons Norbert and Isaac those
her parents and grandparents had sung. How lucky
to be black, to be part of a community all happy to
have youngsters to nurture!
How horrible to be white
living in a house on a kopjie
ruling the roost, isolated, without love or
affection. Thus she often said
Och-Poor-Wee-White, not Och-Poor-Wee-Mite.