When Northern Rhodesia became the independent nation of Zambia in 1964, the UNIP (United National Independent Party) government decided to establish a number of new secondary schools throughout the country. They wanted to recruit from other African countries, people with many years of teaching experience in order to fill the vacancies in the new schools. As the Terms and Conditions offered were far better than those of the neighboring countries, there was a great exodus of serving teachers from Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia, Somalia, Ghana and other African countries to Zambia. There were hundreds of Indian teachers among them.
Joseph and Mathai (not real names) were two Indians, from the state of Kerala, working as teachers in a school in Ethiopia. As there were no other people from Kerala in their school, they were very friendly with each other and did many things together. Their families went together frequently for outings and picnics and entertained each other on Sundays and on special days like Christmas, Easter and Onam. They always consulted with each other on important matters.
Through one of their mutual friends they came to know about the great opportunity in Zambia and that many of their acquaintances from Addis Ababa, Asmara and other towns had already secured jobs in Zambia. Joseph and Mathai felt that this was an opportunity that they should not miss. Accordingly they took the first step of obtaining from friends the address of the Zambian Education Ministry and writing to them for Application Forms. After waiting eagerly for about two weeks, to their great delight they both received by the same day's mail, a set of forms from the Ministry of Education headquarters in Lusaka.
Each application form consisted of four pages. Joseph and Mathai sat together and discussed the manner in which to fill up the form and how to answer the various questions contained in it. Thereafter they departed to their respective homes and embarked on the process of filling up their forms.
Most of the details to be given were simple and straight-forward such as full name, sex, date of birth, educational qualifications, and experience in teaching, so on and so forth. There were also some personal questions such as fluency in English language, speech impediment if any, etc. While Joseph was filling up this part, he suddenly remembered that his friend Mathai had an occasional problem of stammering. He thought it was unlikely that Mathai would indicate it in his application form. Therefore as a truthful and honest person, he thought that at least he should mention it in his own application form, in the best interest of the government of Zambia. So in the space against the question "Have you any speech impediment?" he wrote "I don't have any, but Mathai(full name) has". After completing the rest of the form, he enclosed it in a manila envelope along with other relevant documents, sealed properly and walked the short distance to Mathai's house. Mathai had already completed his form by this time. They went together to the post office in the town, mailed their envelopes and returned home with the satisfaction of a job well done.
A number of days passed. Mathai and Joseph waited eagerly for the return of the "mail boy" (the school worker who used to collect the mail from the post office) each day. Then on a fine day, the long-awaited official envelopes with the superscription "On Zambia Government Service" addressed individually to Joseph and Mathai arrived by the same day's mail. With pounding hearts, they opened their envelopes and studied the contents. Mathai found a letter from the Ministry of Education containing an offer of appointment stipulating the initial salary and other relevant details as well as the name of the officer whom he should contact in case he wanted to accept the offer. In Joseph's envelope, he found a single sheet of paper on which the following sentence was type-written neatly:
"With reference to your application dated.....(date), I regret to inform you that your application for the post of a secondary school teacher has been unsuccessful". Underneath were a signature and the words "Yours faithfully," "for the Permanent Secretary."
Mathai and his family left Ethiopia for Zambia within three month's time. Joseph remained in Ethiopia until the end of his contract and returned to India without leaving any forwarding address. And that was the end of a beautiful friendship.
None of us was aware of this incident until a few months later the matter was disclosed by an official of the Education Ministry to one of the expatriate teachers, during a friendly conversation.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
33. "GOOD MORNING MR. THAEMAANI"
My good friend Daniel was a man of great knowledge. He used to give unsolicited advices. There was no doubt that those advices were well-meant, but they didn't work well sometimes.
He was the one who mentioned about Temani. He pronouced that name as "Thaemaani" and I thought that was how it should be pronounced. According to Mr. Daniel, Mr. "Thaemaani" was the right person to be approached, in case you needed any assistance in expediting your terminal benefit papers at the ministry of education. My terminal benefit papers were submitted to the ministry sometime back and I wanted someone to give them a push. As there were more than a hundred people working in the ministry offices and it would be difficult for me to locate Mr."Thaemaani", Mr. Daniel gave me a brief description of his appearance and the approximate location of his "office" so that I could go there as early as possible and get hold of him before he got himself involved in some other serious matters at the ministry.
Accordingly the very next morning, I posted myself at the main entrance to the long corridor that led to many important offices within the ministry. As it was nearing 8 am, people started trickling in. Seeing an expatriate(term used for foreign nationals working in Zambia) standing near the entrance, some of the in-comers gave me a casual glance and proceeded. There were no familiar faces. Well-dressed ladies passed by, clicking their high heels on the polished wooden floor, chatting in high pitched voice with their counter parts and hardly paying any attention to me. I stood to one side, with my brief case under my arm and scrutinizing every male person to determine whether he fitted with Mr. Daniel's description of "Thaemaani". And while I was waiting patiently, someone just breezed in.
Even at the first glance, I decided that he must be the person I was looking for. He was short, stout, slightly bald and was wearing a dark blue jacket. Some official files were under his arm. On the whole, he had a very official look about him. I did not have to ask for any introduction. I just stepped forward and greeted him in a familiar manner, "Good morning, Mr. Thaemaani...."
He stopped abruptly in his stride and stared at me. Then he asked me in a severe tone "Do I look like Mr. Temani?" and walked away.
I did not know what to say, but one thing was certain. This gentleman was not the "Thaemaani" I was looking for. Then who was Thaemaani?
Soon I found out. Mr. Daniel's friend "Thaemaani" was none other than an office orderly (peon). His job was to carry files from desk to desk and his name was Temani. He did not have any permanent office, but found generally in the vicinity of the main registry. However, the description fitted someone else also, I thought wryly.
Later in the afternoon, I was told by the lady at the "Enquiries" desk to go and check with Senior Accounts officer Mr. Kasanda in room 24, whether my papers were ready. As I entered his office, I realized to my embarrassment that Mr. Kasanda was the person whom I mistook for Temani that morning. However, it appeared that he did not recognize me as he gathered some papers from a tray in front of him, glanced through them and handed to me. As I was just about to leave his office, he said with the ghost of a smile, "Mr. John, Mr. "Thaemaani" has done a good job for you, I hope”.
I thanked Mr. Kasanda for the speedy processing of my papers and apologized for the mix-up that morning. He said it didn’t matter and I just walked away, admiring his sense of humour.
He was the one who mentioned about Temani. He pronouced that name as "Thaemaani" and I thought that was how it should be pronounced. According to Mr. Daniel, Mr. "Thaemaani" was the right person to be approached, in case you needed any assistance in expediting your terminal benefit papers at the ministry of education. My terminal benefit papers were submitted to the ministry sometime back and I wanted someone to give them a push. As there were more than a hundred people working in the ministry offices and it would be difficult for me to locate Mr."Thaemaani", Mr. Daniel gave me a brief description of his appearance and the approximate location of his "office" so that I could go there as early as possible and get hold of him before he got himself involved in some other serious matters at the ministry.
Accordingly the very next morning, I posted myself at the main entrance to the long corridor that led to many important offices within the ministry. As it was nearing 8 am, people started trickling in. Seeing an expatriate(term used for foreign nationals working in Zambia) standing near the entrance, some of the in-comers gave me a casual glance and proceeded. There were no familiar faces. Well-dressed ladies passed by, clicking their high heels on the polished wooden floor, chatting in high pitched voice with their counter parts and hardly paying any attention to me. I stood to one side, with my brief case under my arm and scrutinizing every male person to determine whether he fitted with Mr. Daniel's description of "Thaemaani". And while I was waiting patiently, someone just breezed in.
Even at the first glance, I decided that he must be the person I was looking for. He was short, stout, slightly bald and was wearing a dark blue jacket. Some official files were under his arm. On the whole, he had a very official look about him. I did not have to ask for any introduction. I just stepped forward and greeted him in a familiar manner, "Good morning, Mr. Thaemaani...."
He stopped abruptly in his stride and stared at me. Then he asked me in a severe tone "Do I look like Mr. Temani?" and walked away.
I did not know what to say, but one thing was certain. This gentleman was not the "Thaemaani" I was looking for. Then who was Thaemaani?
Soon I found out. Mr. Daniel's friend "Thaemaani" was none other than an office orderly (peon). His job was to carry files from desk to desk and his name was Temani. He did not have any permanent office, but found generally in the vicinity of the main registry. However, the description fitted someone else also, I thought wryly.
Later in the afternoon, I was told by the lady at the "Enquiries" desk to go and check with Senior Accounts officer Mr. Kasanda in room 24, whether my papers were ready. As I entered his office, I realized to my embarrassment that Mr. Kasanda was the person whom I mistook for Temani that morning. However, it appeared that he did not recognize me as he gathered some papers from a tray in front of him, glanced through them and handed to me. As I was just about to leave his office, he said with the ghost of a smile, "Mr. John, Mr. "Thaemaani" has done a good job for you, I hope”.
I thanked Mr. Kasanda for the speedy processing of my papers and apologized for the mix-up that morning. He said it didn’t matter and I just walked away, admiring his sense of humour.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
32. A CLOSE SHAVE
It happened during the pre-electon days towards the end of President Kaunda's regime. The country was going through a period of political unrest. The Movement for Multi-party Democracy (M.M.D) under the able leadership of Frederick Chiluba, the popular trade union leader was gaining momentum. There was no part of the country where its reverberations did not reach as they radiated from the the hub of the movement - the Copperbelt.
There was a lot of dissatisfaction among the local people. The country's economy was in shambles and the common man could not make both ends meet. Teachers, underpaid and overworked as everywhere else in the world, rose up in arms against the Kaunda regime. Exceptions were the expatriate teachers whose conditions were a little better than that of their Zambian counterparts and who were under contractual obligations.
The local teachers found it an opportune time to ask the government for higher wages and better terms of conditions. Meetings were being held at national, regional and district levels. The expatriate teachers were very much sympathetic to the cause of their colleagues but refrained from expressing their feelings in public for fear of disciplinary action or even deportation.
During this period of unrest on a Friday afternoon, as I was going out to the parking area after my teaching session, I happened to notice an unusual gathering in the school hall. I heard someone calling out my name and saw Mr. Muzeya, one of my colleagues, standing at the entrance of the hall and some others behind him. Mr. Muzeya told me that the teachers of Mufulira district were having a meeting in the hall and if I would step in for a few minutes as an observer, they would appreciate it. I thought I would just go in for a short while and then depart.
Soon the meeting started. There were about fifty people altogether. Half a dozen men were seated on the stage. One man whom I recognized as the teacher of a neighbouring school was addressing the meeting through a cordless microphone. A sheet of paper was being circulated to mark the attendance. The speaker went on talking about the present economic situation in the country and the necessity for a massive pay rise. After listening for about twenty minutes or so, I left the place, un-noticed.
On the next day when the headmaster summoned me to his office, I thought he wanted to discuss some school matter with me, as he used to do in the past. He bade me to take a seat and I noticed a trace of anxiety in his voice. Without any introduction, he asked me about the previous day's meeting. Even before I could say anything, he told me about two policemen from the Secret service who visited him last night at his home to gather the details of the meeting. They wanted the names of the people who organized the meeting and those who addressed. In addition, they specifically asked for the name of an expatriate teacher who was known to have participated in the meeting. The headmaster gave them a list of over fifty names, that of all the Zambian teachers in the school. As far as he knew, all of them were involved. He did not know of any expatriate teacher who attended the meeting. The S.S. men were not happy. They said they would come back for more questioning and left.
During the following days, many of the Zambian teachers of the three secondary schools in the district were questioned by the S.S. men. One thing they wanted to know very much was the name of the foreigner who attended the meeting. However they flatly denied the presence of any foreigner in their meeting. Even though many years have elapsed since that incident, I want to thank all my Zambian colleagues, who were at that meeting and who refrained from disclosing my name to those men. If someone had given even the slightest hint, they would have pounced on me and put me through the mill. Any way, after a few days of coming and going, the S.S. men stopped pestering the teachers as they too realized that the political trend was changing. By then, everyone in Zambia was almost certain that the Kaunda regime was falling apart and would be coming to its end within a few days' time.
And the rest is history.
There was a lot of dissatisfaction among the local people. The country's economy was in shambles and the common man could not make both ends meet. Teachers, underpaid and overworked as everywhere else in the world, rose up in arms against the Kaunda regime. Exceptions were the expatriate teachers whose conditions were a little better than that of their Zambian counterparts and who were under contractual obligations.
The local teachers found it an opportune time to ask the government for higher wages and better terms of conditions. Meetings were being held at national, regional and district levels. The expatriate teachers were very much sympathetic to the cause of their colleagues but refrained from expressing their feelings in public for fear of disciplinary action or even deportation.
During this period of unrest on a Friday afternoon, as I was going out to the parking area after my teaching session, I happened to notice an unusual gathering in the school hall. I heard someone calling out my name and saw Mr. Muzeya, one of my colleagues, standing at the entrance of the hall and some others behind him. Mr. Muzeya told me that the teachers of Mufulira district were having a meeting in the hall and if I would step in for a few minutes as an observer, they would appreciate it. I thought I would just go in for a short while and then depart.
Soon the meeting started. There were about fifty people altogether. Half a dozen men were seated on the stage. One man whom I recognized as the teacher of a neighbouring school was addressing the meeting through a cordless microphone. A sheet of paper was being circulated to mark the attendance. The speaker went on talking about the present economic situation in the country and the necessity for a massive pay rise. After listening for about twenty minutes or so, I left the place, un-noticed.
On the next day when the headmaster summoned me to his office, I thought he wanted to discuss some school matter with me, as he used to do in the past. He bade me to take a seat and I noticed a trace of anxiety in his voice. Without any introduction, he asked me about the previous day's meeting. Even before I could say anything, he told me about two policemen from the Secret service who visited him last night at his home to gather the details of the meeting. They wanted the names of the people who organized the meeting and those who addressed. In addition, they specifically asked for the name of an expatriate teacher who was known to have participated in the meeting. The headmaster gave them a list of over fifty names, that of all the Zambian teachers in the school. As far as he knew, all of them were involved. He did not know of any expatriate teacher who attended the meeting. The S.S. men were not happy. They said they would come back for more questioning and left.
During the following days, many of the Zambian teachers of the three secondary schools in the district were questioned by the S.S. men. One thing they wanted to know very much was the name of the foreigner who attended the meeting. However they flatly denied the presence of any foreigner in their meeting. Even though many years have elapsed since that incident, I want to thank all my Zambian colleagues, who were at that meeting and who refrained from disclosing my name to those men. If someone had given even the slightest hint, they would have pounced on me and put me through the mill. Any way, after a few days of coming and going, the S.S. men stopped pestering the teachers as they too realized that the political trend was changing. By then, everyone in Zambia was almost certain that the Kaunda regime was falling apart and would be coming to its end within a few days' time.
And the rest is history.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
31. EXCEPTION TO THE RULE
Zambians are generally friendly people. That is why Zambia is called the "Friendly Country". They are very grateful to foreigners who assist in the development of their country and sometimes they go out of the way to show their gratitude. However, there could always be some exceptions.
When I met C.B for the first time, he was a non-descript person, working as a teacher in a township school. I noticed him because of his regular attendance in conferences that were held in the region by the Science Association. I was impressed by his keenness and in my capacity as the chairman of the Association for the region,I decided to give him a chance to go to higher levels in the organization. Accordingly, when the central committee of the Association asked me to recommend someone for a sponsored foreign trip, it was C.B's name that I put forward for consideration.
That trip was a turning point in C.B's career. He became well-known in the Association circle and also in the Inspectorate. Being an indigenous person, soon he was in line for promotions. Once he got established, he started to reveal his true nature by throwing his weight around.
It was about that time I decided to write a text book in Biology and a work book to go along with it, for the use of the secondary school pupils in Zambia. Most of the Biology text books available in the country were written by British or Irish authors and the examples of flora and fauna referred to were of non-Zambian nature. It was my intention to present a book that would be in strict conformity with the Cambridge O-level syllabus that was being followed in the Zambian secondary schools. Accordingly, I started working on it.
The work was interesting but time-consuming. I managed to get a number of reference books to assist me in my pursuits. The notes and diagrams that I had prepared for my teaching sessions became very handy. Now, all my available free time was being utilized in writing, typing and drawing. As a result, the work progressed very well.
It took nearly two years of hard work for the completion of the project. Bro. Kirk, one of the Catholic brothers working as a voluntary teacher in the English department did the proof-reading of the manuscript. Fr. Mc Kinney, a co-worker and book-writer, gave me many valuable tips that helped me a lot in my work. During this period, I happened to meet C.B at a conference and told him about my project. Contrary to my expectation, he did not appear very enthusiastic about it and tried to discourage me. However, I did not pay him any attention. Moreover, there were many friends and well-wishers who gave me a lot of encouragement in my project.
Once the manuscript was ready, I had to find a publisher. I knew there were some publishing houses in the country among which the most well-known one was the Zambia Educational Publishing House (ZEPH), formerly, the Kenneth Kaunda Foundation, in Lusaka. I wrote a letter to ZEPH about my book and soon the publishing manager of the company contacted me by telephone. He directed me to send them a copy of the manuscript so that their book committee could examine it and decide about its suitability for publication. Accordingly, I mailed them a photostat copy of the original.
Thereafter things moved very fast. The book committee scrutinized the script and gave their unanimous approval. ZEPH informed me that they would be pleased to buy off the copy-rights by paying me a sum of four million kwacha (equivalent to four thousand U.S. Dollars according to the exchange rate at that time). An initial payment would be made at the time of signing the contract, and the remainder would be paid immediately after obtaining the approval of the Curriculum committee of the Ministry. This would be just a formality.
I drove down to Lusaka early next week in order to sign the contract. I met the publishing manager as well as the M.D. After signing the contract and handing me a cheque for the initial payment, they told me that the book was accepted by their book committee and therefore, they were going to start working on it without waiting for the Curriculum committee's approval. The remaining amount would be paid to my bank account and I was asked to give them the details.
Three weeks later, I received a phone call from the publishing manager. He said that the report of the Curriculum committee had come. It was the most adverse report they had ever seen. There was no doubt that someone in the committee was trying to block the publication of the book. Later, I came to know that the committee consisted of four people and C.B was the leading member of that committee. The others were chosen by him from one or two schools in the capital. However, I do not want to say anything to the effect that C.B might have influenced the other members to give such a damaging report. In spite of such a bad report, ZEPH decided to go ahead with the publication of the book.
ZEPH kept their promise. My only regret is that I was not in the country to see the book in its printed form. It is my firm belief that the NEW SCHOOL CERTIFICATE BIOLOGY has been accepted by many Zambian secondary school pupils and is found useful to them at least in a small way.
When I met C.B for the first time, he was a non-descript person, working as a teacher in a township school. I noticed him because of his regular attendance in conferences that were held in the region by the Science Association. I was impressed by his keenness and in my capacity as the chairman of the Association for the region,I decided to give him a chance to go to higher levels in the organization. Accordingly, when the central committee of the Association asked me to recommend someone for a sponsored foreign trip, it was C.B's name that I put forward for consideration.
That trip was a turning point in C.B's career. He became well-known in the Association circle and also in the Inspectorate. Being an indigenous person, soon he was in line for promotions. Once he got established, he started to reveal his true nature by throwing his weight around.
It was about that time I decided to write a text book in Biology and a work book to go along with it, for the use of the secondary school pupils in Zambia. Most of the Biology text books available in the country were written by British or Irish authors and the examples of flora and fauna referred to were of non-Zambian nature. It was my intention to present a book that would be in strict conformity with the Cambridge O-level syllabus that was being followed in the Zambian secondary schools. Accordingly, I started working on it.
The work was interesting but time-consuming. I managed to get a number of reference books to assist me in my pursuits. The notes and diagrams that I had prepared for my teaching sessions became very handy. Now, all my available free time was being utilized in writing, typing and drawing. As a result, the work progressed very well.
It took nearly two years of hard work for the completion of the project. Bro. Kirk, one of the Catholic brothers working as a voluntary teacher in the English department did the proof-reading of the manuscript. Fr. Mc Kinney, a co-worker and book-writer, gave me many valuable tips that helped me a lot in my work. During this period, I happened to meet C.B at a conference and told him about my project. Contrary to my expectation, he did not appear very enthusiastic about it and tried to discourage me. However, I did not pay him any attention. Moreover, there were many friends and well-wishers who gave me a lot of encouragement in my project.
Once the manuscript was ready, I had to find a publisher. I knew there were some publishing houses in the country among which the most well-known one was the Zambia Educational Publishing House (ZEPH), formerly, the Kenneth Kaunda Foundation, in Lusaka. I wrote a letter to ZEPH about my book and soon the publishing manager of the company contacted me by telephone. He directed me to send them a copy of the manuscript so that their book committee could examine it and decide about its suitability for publication. Accordingly, I mailed them a photostat copy of the original.
Thereafter things moved very fast. The book committee scrutinized the script and gave their unanimous approval. ZEPH informed me that they would be pleased to buy off the copy-rights by paying me a sum of four million kwacha (equivalent to four thousand U.S. Dollars according to the exchange rate at that time). An initial payment would be made at the time of signing the contract, and the remainder would be paid immediately after obtaining the approval of the Curriculum committee of the Ministry. This would be just a formality.
I drove down to Lusaka early next week in order to sign the contract. I met the publishing manager as well as the M.D. After signing the contract and handing me a cheque for the initial payment, they told me that the book was accepted by their book committee and therefore, they were going to start working on it without waiting for the Curriculum committee's approval. The remaining amount would be paid to my bank account and I was asked to give them the details.
Three weeks later, I received a phone call from the publishing manager. He said that the report of the Curriculum committee had come. It was the most adverse report they had ever seen. There was no doubt that someone in the committee was trying to block the publication of the book. Later, I came to know that the committee consisted of four people and C.B was the leading member of that committee. The others were chosen by him from one or two schools in the capital. However, I do not want to say anything to the effect that C.B might have influenced the other members to give such a damaging report. In spite of such a bad report, ZEPH decided to go ahead with the publication of the book.
ZEPH kept their promise. My only regret is that I was not in the country to see the book in its printed form. It is my firm belief that the NEW SCHOOL CERTIFICATE BIOLOGY has been accepted by many Zambian secondary school pupils and is found useful to them at least in a small way.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
30. ".......GIVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS"
Soon after a robbery at my previous residence where we had stayed for more than 14 years, we shifted to one of the mine flats in the Top Shop area. These flats did not have any servant's quarters. I considered it as a good excuse for getting rid of Richard, my servant whom I suspected of having collusion with the robbers.
We employed a maid-servant who was sharing accommodation with another girl in a one-bedroom house in a nearby area known as the Mokambo compound. There were many such houses in that area, owned by the Zambia Consolidated Copper Mines for accommodating the servants of those mine employees who were staying in the flats. Many low-paid mine workers also stayed in the compound. It took almost six months for my wife to train the maid adequately for our purposes and she thought the maid was doing quite well.
Then one day she came and told my wife that she was leaving because of lack of accommodation. The girl with whom she stayed was getting married and asked her to vacate. She had no place to stay and therefore would have to go back to her village. However, she would stay back if “Bwana” (means ‘master’) could get one of those houses in the Mokambo compound for her.
I made some preliminary enquiries to a senior official in the mines and he told me that as I was a non-miner my servant could not be accommodated in the Mokambo compound which was reserved for the servants of ZCCM employees.
But being a very stubborn person, I decided to put in an application at the Estate office. The guy who was in charge of processing the application was very friendly. I filled up the application form and left it with him. He told me that he would give me a call within a couple of days.
But the call never came. After waiting for a week, I made another trip to the Estate office. The same person was in the office. He asked me "Why didn't you tell me that you are not a miner?"
"Well, that is what I have indicated in my application" I told him. "But since I am occupying a mine flat that has no servant's quarters, where am I supposed to accommodate my servant?"
"Look here, my friend, ‘that’ is your problem”, he told me. “You are just wasting your time. Your application has been turned down by the Estate manager".
There was no point in arguing. I left crestfallen.
The maid was supposed to leave her employment with us the next day. But in the morning, I received a call from the Estate office asking me to see Mr. Musonda in charge of housing. I met the same guy whom I had seen twice during the past few days. As soon as he saw me, he greeted me with a broad smile and offered me a seat. Then he took a neatly typed sheet of paper, put it inside an envelope and handed it to me. It was a letter from the Estate office, allocating in my name one of the houses in the Mokambo compound, for the use of my servant. He added that the keys should be collected from the Quarter master’s office.
I was greatly surprised at the turn of events but did not express it. Instead I thanked him for his kindness and bade him good day. As I was coming out of his office, he asked me "Mr. John, may I ask you something? What is your connection with Mr. Phiri?"
I did not know what he was talking about. So I asked him, "which
Phiri?"
"Mr. Michael Phiri, our boss in the General Office! Who else?" he said.
I asked him why he wanted to know. He replied that Mr. Michael Phiri was on a visit to the Estate office the other day and he found me leaving Mr. Musonda’s office and driving off. He wanted to know what I was doing there, and when he heard the story he told the manager, "You just give him what he wants". That was why he asked.
"Oh, we just know each other" I said as I did not know what else to say.
However, a few months later, I came to know from someone that Michael Phiri was one of my former students at Mufulira High School.
We employed a maid-servant who was sharing accommodation with another girl in a one-bedroom house in a nearby area known as the Mokambo compound. There were many such houses in that area, owned by the Zambia Consolidated Copper Mines for accommodating the servants of those mine employees who were staying in the flats. Many low-paid mine workers also stayed in the compound. It took almost six months for my wife to train the maid adequately for our purposes and she thought the maid was doing quite well.
Then one day she came and told my wife that she was leaving because of lack of accommodation. The girl with whom she stayed was getting married and asked her to vacate. She had no place to stay and therefore would have to go back to her village. However, she would stay back if “Bwana” (means ‘master’) could get one of those houses in the Mokambo compound for her.
I made some preliminary enquiries to a senior official in the mines and he told me that as I was a non-miner my servant could not be accommodated in the Mokambo compound which was reserved for the servants of ZCCM employees.
But being a very stubborn person, I decided to put in an application at the Estate office. The guy who was in charge of processing the application was very friendly. I filled up the application form and left it with him. He told me that he would give me a call within a couple of days.
But the call never came. After waiting for a week, I made another trip to the Estate office. The same person was in the office. He asked me "Why didn't you tell me that you are not a miner?"
"Well, that is what I have indicated in my application" I told him. "But since I am occupying a mine flat that has no servant's quarters, where am I supposed to accommodate my servant?"
"Look here, my friend, ‘that’ is your problem”, he told me. “You are just wasting your time. Your application has been turned down by the Estate manager".
There was no point in arguing. I left crestfallen.
The maid was supposed to leave her employment with us the next day. But in the morning, I received a call from the Estate office asking me to see Mr. Musonda in charge of housing. I met the same guy whom I had seen twice during the past few days. As soon as he saw me, he greeted me with a broad smile and offered me a seat. Then he took a neatly typed sheet of paper, put it inside an envelope and handed it to me. It was a letter from the Estate office, allocating in my name one of the houses in the Mokambo compound, for the use of my servant. He added that the keys should be collected from the Quarter master’s office.
I was greatly surprised at the turn of events but did not express it. Instead I thanked him for his kindness and bade him good day. As I was coming out of his office, he asked me "Mr. John, may I ask you something? What is your connection with Mr. Phiri?"
I did not know what he was talking about. So I asked him, "which
Phiri?"
"Mr. Michael Phiri, our boss in the General Office! Who else?" he said.
I asked him why he wanted to know. He replied that Mr. Michael Phiri was on a visit to the Estate office the other day and he found me leaving Mr. Musonda’s office and driving off. He wanted to know what I was doing there, and when he heard the story he told the manager, "You just give him what he wants". That was why he asked.
"Oh, we just know each other" I said as I did not know what else to say.
However, a few months later, I came to know from someone that Michael Phiri was one of my former students at Mufulira High School.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
".........WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE FRIGHT"
The Nairobi flight from Bombay arrived late. I was in transit on my way to the Zambian capital of Lusaka. As the connecting time was less than three hours due to the lateness of the AI (Air India) flight from Bombay, no hotel accommodation was provided. The passengers were made to sit and wait in the departure lounge of the Jomo Kenyata airport without any lunch. We were told that lunch would be provided onboard.
The QZ (Zambia Airways) flight to Lusaka was scheduled to depart at 1.50 p.m. There were no announcements about our departure until 1.45 p.m. On enquiry at the QZ checking counter we were told that our plane which was supposed to arrive from Lusaka at 12 noon had not arrived yet. Consequently, the return flight would be delayed.
I was returning from India after a short visit. My journey had commenced from Trivandrum on the previous morning. The Juhu beach hotel where I was accommodated in between flights was not one of the best. As a result, I was feeling tired and sleepy.
At 1.45 p.m. there was an announcement that the QZ flight to Lusaka was delayed by 90 minutes. That meant the plane would leave by 3.20 p.m. only at the earliest. I noticed that the Zambia Airways checking counter was deserted. There was no one to whom the passengers could complain about their plight or request for some lunch coupons. Those who did possess any foreign currency moved to the restaurants at the airport and got themselves some snacks while the others remained hungry.
The call to board the flight to Lusaka came around 3.30 p.m. There was a great scramble among the hundred and fifteen passengers to make a rush and get into the plane, lest it would depart without them. However, it was 4.15 p.m. by the time the plane took off. As soon as it was air-borne and we were well on our way, lunch was served but I was not feeling hungry. The only thing I wanted was to reach home as early as possible.
The first jolt came as we were just cruising over Mount Kilimanjaro. The pilot interrupted his scenic description over the public address system to warn the passengers about "a little turbulence". The "fasten seat belt" signs flashed on. It was followed by a second jolt, more frightening than the first one as the Boeing 737 aircraft plunged into another air pocket. It made some babies to scream and some grown-ups to become uneasy. Even though there were a few more jolts, the passengers got used to the pattern and the pilot managed to keep the plane on its course. However we all heaved a sigh of relief when it was announced that the plane would land at Lusaka International Airport within ten minutes' time.
It was with a severe jolt that the wheels of the aircraft touched down on the tarmac accompanied by a deafening roar of the jet engines as if it were going to pieces. Everyone thought that we had crash-landed and this was the end. However, we soon realized that the plane was taxiing smoothly on the runway while we heard a sweet melodious voice announcing through the plane's public address system ".......Captain Gilby and his crew thank all the passengers who have been frying with us and we hope you enjoyed the fright".
There was no doubt that we did!
The QZ (Zambia Airways) flight to Lusaka was scheduled to depart at 1.50 p.m. There were no announcements about our departure until 1.45 p.m. On enquiry at the QZ checking counter we were told that our plane which was supposed to arrive from Lusaka at 12 noon had not arrived yet. Consequently, the return flight would be delayed.
I was returning from India after a short visit. My journey had commenced from Trivandrum on the previous morning. The Juhu beach hotel where I was accommodated in between flights was not one of the best. As a result, I was feeling tired and sleepy.
At 1.45 p.m. there was an announcement that the QZ flight to Lusaka was delayed by 90 minutes. That meant the plane would leave by 3.20 p.m. only at the earliest. I noticed that the Zambia Airways checking counter was deserted. There was no one to whom the passengers could complain about their plight or request for some lunch coupons. Those who did possess any foreign currency moved to the restaurants at the airport and got themselves some snacks while the others remained hungry.
The call to board the flight to Lusaka came around 3.30 p.m. There was a great scramble among the hundred and fifteen passengers to make a rush and get into the plane, lest it would depart without them. However, it was 4.15 p.m. by the time the plane took off. As soon as it was air-borne and we were well on our way, lunch was served but I was not feeling hungry. The only thing I wanted was to reach home as early as possible.
The first jolt came as we were just cruising over Mount Kilimanjaro. The pilot interrupted his scenic description over the public address system to warn the passengers about "a little turbulence". The "fasten seat belt" signs flashed on. It was followed by a second jolt, more frightening than the first one as the Boeing 737 aircraft plunged into another air pocket. It made some babies to scream and some grown-ups to become uneasy. Even though there were a few more jolts, the passengers got used to the pattern and the pilot managed to keep the plane on its course. However we all heaved a sigh of relief when it was announced that the plane would land at Lusaka International Airport within ten minutes' time.
It was with a severe jolt that the wheels of the aircraft touched down on the tarmac accompanied by a deafening roar of the jet engines as if it were going to pieces. Everyone thought that we had crash-landed and this was the end. However, we soon realized that the plane was taxiing smoothly on the runway while we heard a sweet melodious voice announcing through the plane's public address system ".......Captain Gilby and his crew thank all the passengers who have been frying with us and we hope you enjoyed the fright".
There was no doubt that we did!
Friday, August 27, 2010
THE BRIGADIER'S SON
King George High School at Broken hill was one of the best schools in Northern Rhodesia during the colonial rule. Even though its name was changed to Kabwe Secondary School soon after Independence, the headmaster Mr. R. M. Brown did not spare any efforts in maintaining the high standards of academic performance and discipline for which the school had a reputation.
Broken hill was the provincial capital of the central province. Its name was changed to Kabwe soon after Independence. Before the formation of Zambia and the establishment of Lusaka as its capital, Broken hill was the head quarters of the Northern Rhodesian Army. Even after Independence, it continued to remain as the army H.Q. During the early days of Independence, there were still many "whites" occupying key positions in the army, railways and government ministries. The government's policy was to have zambianization done in a slow and steady manner.
Mr. R. M. Brown was from Britain. He was a good teacher and a strict disciplinarian. After serving for some time as the deputy head of Mufulira high school on the Copper-belt, Mr. Brown was transferred to Kabwe Secondary School as the headmaster.
There were many "whites" among the students. Some of them were quite arrogant and tried to "boss" over the African and Indian students. Even from the very beginning Mr. Brown made it very clear that he would not tolerate any racialism among the students or the teachers of his school. Soon it became evident that if anyone thought he would have any special privilege because of his racial superiority or social status, he was grossly mistaken.
One day during the morning assembly Mr. Brown noticed a few senior students with "Beatle-style" long hair among the population of nearly a thousand students. Mr. Brown did not want his pupils to look like "hippies" and he made it very clear during his announcements that day. He gave them three days' time to get their hair cut short in an acceptable manner so that they too would have a decent sort of look like the rest of the pupils.
Mr. Brown kept his word. After three days he made another inspection of the students during the morning assembly and found that all the long-haired students except one had complied with his orders. After the assembly, he summoned that one to his office and asked the reason. The student replied that he had spoken to his father and he allowed him to have long hair and as such he did not see any reason why he should cut it short. Mr. Brown told him that he would still have to comply with the rules and regulations of the school as long as he wanted to be a student of that school and he would not be allowed to attend lessons until he complied with his instructions.
Mr. Brown had a good view of the front court-yard of the school, from his office. Precisely at 9 AM the next morning he noticed a massive motor car bearing the flag and emblem of the Zambian army pulling up in front of his office and a man in the army uniform getting out of the car while another army man stood aside reverently, holding the car door open. After a few minutes, he heard a brisk tap on his door and bid the visitor to enter. A huge white man in full military uniform strode in. He introduced himself as brigadier John Smith of the Zambian army and sat down heavily on a chair even before being invited by Mr. Brown to sit down. Mr. Brown politely asked him what he could do for him. The brigadier told him in an authoritative manner that he should allow his son whom Mr. Brown had sent away the previous day on a silly charge of having long hair, to go back to the lessons. Mr. Brown, very politely told the brigadier that he could not change the school rules for any particular pupil, even if his father was a brigadier or even general of the army. Now that the father of the pupil had come to the school and talked in an offensive manner, the pupil would have to make an apology in public, at the school assembly when he returned to the school after getting his hair cut. Mr. Brown indicated that the interview was over and the brigadier left in a great fury, promising to have a word with the President so that Mr. Brown would not be sitting in that chair for very long.
Nothing happened for a few days. Then, about a week later, Henry Smith, the son of brigadier John Smith, returned to the school with his hair cut short in an acceptable manner and presented himself to Mr. Brown just before the morning assembly. The headmaster allowed him to say a few words of apology after which he congratulated him for setting an example to the rest of the school by complying with the school rule even though he was a bit reluctant about it at first.
After the above incident, Henry Smith became the most law-abiding student of Kabwe Secondary School and completed his high school education in due course with flying colors before returning to England for higher studies.
Broken hill was the provincial capital of the central province. Its name was changed to Kabwe soon after Independence. Before the formation of Zambia and the establishment of Lusaka as its capital, Broken hill was the head quarters of the Northern Rhodesian Army. Even after Independence, it continued to remain as the army H.Q. During the early days of Independence, there were still many "whites" occupying key positions in the army, railways and government ministries. The government's policy was to have zambianization done in a slow and steady manner.
Mr. R. M. Brown was from Britain. He was a good teacher and a strict disciplinarian. After serving for some time as the deputy head of Mufulira high school on the Copper-belt, Mr. Brown was transferred to Kabwe Secondary School as the headmaster.
There were many "whites" among the students. Some of them were quite arrogant and tried to "boss" over the African and Indian students. Even from the very beginning Mr. Brown made it very clear that he would not tolerate any racialism among the students or the teachers of his school. Soon it became evident that if anyone thought he would have any special privilege because of his racial superiority or social status, he was grossly mistaken.
One day during the morning assembly Mr. Brown noticed a few senior students with "Beatle-style" long hair among the population of nearly a thousand students. Mr. Brown did not want his pupils to look like "hippies" and he made it very clear during his announcements that day. He gave them three days' time to get their hair cut short in an acceptable manner so that they too would have a decent sort of look like the rest of the pupils.
Mr. Brown kept his word. After three days he made another inspection of the students during the morning assembly and found that all the long-haired students except one had complied with his orders. After the assembly, he summoned that one to his office and asked the reason. The student replied that he had spoken to his father and he allowed him to have long hair and as such he did not see any reason why he should cut it short. Mr. Brown told him that he would still have to comply with the rules and regulations of the school as long as he wanted to be a student of that school and he would not be allowed to attend lessons until he complied with his instructions.
Mr. Brown had a good view of the front court-yard of the school, from his office. Precisely at 9 AM the next morning he noticed a massive motor car bearing the flag and emblem of the Zambian army pulling up in front of his office and a man in the army uniform getting out of the car while another army man stood aside reverently, holding the car door open. After a few minutes, he heard a brisk tap on his door and bid the visitor to enter. A huge white man in full military uniform strode in. He introduced himself as brigadier John Smith of the Zambian army and sat down heavily on a chair even before being invited by Mr. Brown to sit down. Mr. Brown politely asked him what he could do for him. The brigadier told him in an authoritative manner that he should allow his son whom Mr. Brown had sent away the previous day on a silly charge of having long hair, to go back to the lessons. Mr. Brown, very politely told the brigadier that he could not change the school rules for any particular pupil, even if his father was a brigadier or even general of the army. Now that the father of the pupil had come to the school and talked in an offensive manner, the pupil would have to make an apology in public, at the school assembly when he returned to the school after getting his hair cut. Mr. Brown indicated that the interview was over and the brigadier left in a great fury, promising to have a word with the President so that Mr. Brown would not be sitting in that chair for very long.
Nothing happened for a few days. Then, about a week later, Henry Smith, the son of brigadier John Smith, returned to the school with his hair cut short in an acceptable manner and presented himself to Mr. Brown just before the morning assembly. The headmaster allowed him to say a few words of apology after which he congratulated him for setting an example to the rest of the school by complying with the school rule even though he was a bit reluctant about it at first.
After the above incident, Henry Smith became the most law-abiding student of Kabwe Secondary School and completed his high school education in due course with flying colors before returning to England for higher studies.
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