Charles and the arrival of Anne-Marie

During his time off, Charles chose to go back to Portuguese East Africa, his original home, but with the promise that he would return to Bulawayo on 1st August to look after “baas”, my husband, until I returned from Denmark a month later in September. Time means nothing to the black people, so we were not unduly surprised upon my husband’s return to find he didn’t turn up on time after all, and we were also a little disappointed that our Charles should turn out to be just like the rest, after all, in this respect. Eventually I returned from Denmark and we were transferred to Northern Rhodesia, now Zambia, to live in a place called N’dola. Reluctantly, I engaged a strange black man to help me, and it was very primitive and hot up there in those days in 1954, and I was expecting our first child. This black man was a sullen type and a huge man! His name was Moses and I must admit I never felt quite at ease with him around. We could not get used to this man, especially after someone like our Charles, so when we discovered that he was stealing, he was fired and we muddled along for a few weeks. I had a Danish male guest living with us at the time, who was a great help in many ways, like helping me to keep the house clean and cook. One day a telegram arrived from my mother in Rhodesia saying that Charles had turned up at her house and did we want him again? “Did we?!” You bet we did and on the very next train for the North please, said my urgent telegram in reply! 2 days and 3 nights later we were able to collect Charles on the N’dola station and we were all very happy to see each other again. He explained why he was late getting back – after he had returned to his own country he had been put to work on the roads and this kind of work was compulsory for all returning exiled Africans to P.E.A. and usually lasted 6 months. However, one day Charles had managed to escape from the road gangs, pack his impahla (luggage), jumped on his bicycle and started the many hundreds of miles journey through the lion country back to Rhodesia. He had faithfully carried round with him an old zinc bucket, brush and pan which we had forgotten in our last rented home. This was returned to us with due ceremony on N’dola station! He could only travel at night, he told us, so as to avoid being caught again and he slept with his ‘brothers’ en route. They are always brothers to one another, total strangers included.

Charles was delighted with the news that we were to have a baby and looked forward to the event every bit as much as we did ourselves. Anne-Marie was born in N’dola Hospital at the end of January 1955. Charles did not like to hear her cry and when she was older and placed in her playpen on the veranda, and sometimes left to cry, he would pass through the lounge where we might be sitting, oblivious to her noise, muttering and giving us dark looks! He would then return again with Anne-Marie under his arm or on his hip and his baleful glare would dare us to interfere! He would then continue with his work, with her comfortably seated on his hip.

We lived on the outskirts of town and in those days, there were only dusty bush roads, and no water or electricity laid on. In fact, we were rather isolated out there with only miles of vast bush all around us. We had a pump boy whose sole occupation was to keep the water tank to the house pumped full of water. He was later replaced by a special pump that we had sent out from Denmark. Charles had full charge of all the lighting arrangements and every evening he would gather the Tilley lamps on the back steps and fill, prime and light them in readiness for the evening. It was a very peaceful scene, Charles and his lamps on the back doorstep and from the native compound in the distance came the soft beat of the tom-toms and the muted sounds of many African voices, going about their evening chores around their homes, the cicadas singing and sometimes a brilliant orange moon shining down out of the starry night. The nights are so warm and velvety, and seem so special in Africa. In the beginning, there were so many things I didn’t like about Northern Rhodesia, but eventually I became used to them all – and even became quite sorry when we were transferred once again after 15 months, back to Salisbury. One thing I never became used to and was always terrified of, were the huge furry rain spiders which were most prevalent from September when the rains started and we only saw them at night when they came indoors after the light! I formed the habit of always sitting in chairs with my legs folded under me, to be on the safe side. We were told that they were not dangerous, but a bite could be very painful, however the very sight of one gave me the shivers, much more so than the occasional snakes we came across.

Charles returned with us happily, when we set off by car for Salisbury, thus completing the circle for Charles. We lived in Salisbury for a few months whilst my husband underwent further training in readiness to take over the pork division of the C.S.C. We moved back to Bulawayo in March 1956 and rented an old house to be near my family so they could enjoy their first grand-daughter, because by then they knew that the decision we had kept putting off for returning to Denmark, was to be made and we had to return to at least give it a try for 2 years, which eventually became 11 years. It was a great wrench for us both to leave Rhodesia, my husband was enjoying building up a new section in the C.S.C. and I was sad having to go and live so far from my family after being back in their midst again for a few months. My father-in-law became ill again, and asked for my husband to come back to Denmark. By September 1956 we could no longer put it off and we decided to leave for Denmark to arrive in time for my father-in-laws 70th birthday. But that is another story and another adventure!

I can assure you that Prime Minister Ian Smith is a sincere man and a good leader, and he is doing all he can, under trying circumstances to conciliate a peaceful settlement and security which will benefit the people of all races in Rhodesia. I found much to my surprise during my visit to Rhodesia last year (1967), contrary to what I had read in overseas newspapers, life there was peaceful and normal, and that the shops were full of all kinds of commodities, necessary and luxury items, despite sanctions and these came from all parts of the world too. I visited the Smith’s in Salisbury during my short stay in Rhodesia last year, and carry with me their good wishes and blessings for the new life we are starting in this, our fourth country, despite the fact that they were sorry that it could not be Rhodesia again, though with the prediction of ‘You’ll be back!’ Well, who knows – when we went to Denmark it was more or less for good. There is a lot more I could and would like to tell you, but my time is up and I thank you for being a patient audience.

Anne-Marie and Glen with PM Ian Smith at Government house, Salisbury, 1967













Glen and Anne-Marie with Janet Smith in the garden at Government House in
1967.




















That completes the story of Mother's early days in Rhodesia, as told to a group of Albany ladies in 1968. I have faithfully told the story, word for word, as mum had typed it in her little notebook, with only an occasional spelling correction. I hope you have enjoyed it and learn a little of Rhodesia, or Zimbabwe as it is today, in its glory days before the devastation by Robert Mugabe's regime.

Victoria Falls aerial view.