62) Moffat Street

One of the first things we did when we got home from our holiday was to collect the dogs from the kennels in Umtali where they had been while we were away. They were so excited to see us, jumping up and rushing round and barking noisily. As we drove up the mountain to the Vumba a troop of baboons crossed the road and Rocky jumped out of the window after them. I was amazed that he was not hurt but just landed on the ground rolled over a couple of times then was back on his feet and after them again. Fortunately they were faster than he was and got away. They could have torn him to pieces if he had caught them. Rocky got back into the car very pleased with himself for protecting us from all the passing wild life but after that we closed all the windows so that he could not do it again.

I don’t remember exactly when but it could have been around about this time, or maybe before we went on holiday, Rocky gave us another big fright. Because of the field mice that had infested the house we had placed dishes of rat poison in the dark corners of the cupboards and we were all supposed to keep the cupboard doors firmly closed to make sure that the dogs did not sample the pellets. Of course when we first placed them there we remembered but as time went by we got a little careless and a door was left open. We discovered Rocky with his nose at one of the dishes. We were not really sure that he had eaten any of it but we could not take a chance. I rang the vet and asked him what we should do. He told me to get the dog to vomit up the poison. He told us to put our fingers down his throat or feed him washing soda, anything to make him sick. So Jonathan, Dominic, Peter and I started to work on Rocky, first putting fingers down his throat but that did not have any effect then salt, still no effect so we had to resort to the washing soda. Getting washing soda down the throat of a large dog who by now was pretty fed up with the way we were treating him was no easy task, but it was four to one so we did eventually get some in him. We sat back and waited for him to vomit but – nothing! I rang the vet again and he advised us to bring him in for an injection just to be on the safe side. So off we went again on a mercy trip down the mountain. At least the weather was not so bad on this trip but the passenger was a rather cranky dog who was not too pleased with us. Of course just to show us how upset he was half way to Umtali he did what he should have done at home and brought up all the washing soda and salt that we had fed him. When we got to the vet he examined him and said that he did not think he had ingested any of the rat poison but gave him the injection just to be sure. By then I think I could have gladly fed him a large dish of poison, he was not my favourite dog for a while.

Our Used Car Business

After a good holiday it seemed the right time to increase our business and so we open a used car yard instead of taking all the cars down to Mike Harris in Salisbury. Jonny found a vacant piece of land on a busy street corner in Umtali and Ian Maclaren leant us his caravan to use for an office. We had the phone connected and we were in business. When we first started I was still working part time for the National Parks so I did not go into the office every day but I did go when I was needed. Peter Mabvira came to work for us on a full time basis. He had worked for us as a casual driver.

One of the most interesting customers that comes to mind was a gentleman who was the Government Press officer for the Manica Province. He was such an interesting man. He had left Rhodesia when he was in his teens to take up what he was told was an education scholarship. He came from a family that could not afford to send him for further education so he was very pleased to have been granted this opportunity. What really happened was that he found himself in Russia and the only education he was getting was in the use of arms and ammunition and terrorist training. But his group were young and political disfranchised so I don’t suppose they objected to that. He told us about how his group all got thrown out of Russia. One of them started dating a young Russian girl and their relationship developed to the point that they wanted to get married and the young man eventually worked up the courage to go and ask his sweetheart’s father for her hand in marriage. His friends knew all about it as he had been telling them for some time of his love for the girl and how nervous he was about the interview with her father. He had not arrived back at their hostel when they all went to bed but they were not too concerned about that. When he was not there in the morning they were a little worried but when after a week he still had not turned up and all their attempts to find him had failed they knew something was very wrong. They also could not find the Russian girl. They called at her house and were told that she had gone away on holiday but they were sure that they were being lied to. They went to their tutors and told them the whole story but they were fobbed off with some rather weak story so they got very angry and took up the arms that they were being trained to use and turned them on the people training them. Their revolt was quickly squashed and they were all promptly shipped out of the country. That was the end of their Russian education. They never saw the young man again and our customer was convinced that he had been murdered because of the colour prejudice that was in Russia at that time. I am not sure how but he ended up in the USA and there he was lucky enough (and clever enough too) to get into university. He studied journalism and when he had completed his studies he somehow or other got to travel to many parts of the world. He saw how people lived in many different countries. I remember he told us that he had seen a great deal of poverty in Europe, sometimes worse than in Africa. He told us that he thought that it would be better to be poor in Africa than to be poor in Europe, at least you would not have to put up with the terrible weather as well as all the other problems that poverty brings. It was very enlightening to talk to someone who had been the subject of racial discrimination but was able to discuss it without bitterness and tell us which countries were the worst. Yes he was a real eye opener and if all Zimbabwe’s politicians had been a bit more like him I am sure they would not be having the problems that they are having now.

Another of our customers was an officer in the army. In the course of conversation it came out that he had been fighting with the terrorist, he of course called them freedom fighters, and he and Jonny worked out that they had probably been quite close during the war, on different side though. It was amazing to think that now they were sitting together, doing business with each other with no animosity. I felt that that was a great omen for the new country, that there could be forgiveness and healing on both sides. That black and white could learn to get over the past and work together to make a new start. What great hopes we all had back then.

Now that Jonny was no longer working in the Vumba and the boys were still having to attend weekly boarding school we decided that it would be sensible to look for a house in town to rent. We were spending too much time travelling in and out of town and far too much money on petrol and petrol was in short supply at the time. Also I was missing having the boys at home. Whenever I went to pick the boys up from school I had always noticed a house in the road that led up to the school. It was not a particularly large of fancy house but I always thought that it had a nice homely look to it. I rang an estate agent to ask her if she would look out for a house for me and she came back to me a little while later to tell me that 16 Moffat St was up for rent. I did not know the number of the house that I had always admired but was very pleased to discover when I went to view the house that it was number 16. It was a three bed roomed house with a good sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a dinning room, two lounges and a lovely swimming pool. The thing we liked best about it was its close proximity to the boys’ school; they could walk there each day and would no longer have to board.

Dominic and Jonathan in their Umtali Boys High uniforms

So once again we moved. I was sorry to leave that lovely place but I was so pleased that Jonathan and Dominic would be living at home again that it was worth it. We moved during the September school holidays and the last term of 1981. It was one a time of great change in the boarding hostel at the school. Changes that were not very popular with the pupils so it was good that our boys did not have to go back. The matrons and cooks who had been there for many years were replaced with new staff and it took them a long time to get used to their jobs. While they were settling in the boarders felt that they were not being very well fed. I suppose that happens a lot in school hostels but I do know that being so near to the school our kitchen was often filled with hungry teenage boys who had sneaked out after supper to see what we had for them to eat. They would come in and say “Guess what we had for super tonight Mrs. C., one mealie (sweet corn) and bread and butter.” Many evenings we made huge plates of sandwiches that were quickly wolfed down, followed by biscuits and tea. Sometimes they would even be there for a meal. I remember once a lad had finished what he was eating, wiping every crumb off his plate, I asked “Did you enjoy that Simon?” His reply was a very backhanded compliment “Mrs C. after boarding house food anything is good” the other boys picked up on it immediately and never let him forget it.