Town
I arrived in Lilongwe City Centre most weekends. I went for
lunch around my watch guards house, his name was Overtone Banda. He is my brother from another mother! As a volunteer
I had spent plenty of time entertaining myself and the watch guards at the
Landirani office where I used to live so we had become good friends. I had met
most of the family, the kids were flying everywhere in and out of this new
house to greet me. The parents had managed to save up to get another house for
themselves and the youngest son. The grandmother was also joining us for lunch as she had been in
Kamuzu Central hospital to fix her knee. After food Overtone rushed around, it
was the process of getting ready for work which left him with no socks. As I
cycled back home with him I made sure I did a detour. Later on in the evening I
dropped off some tomatoes and socks to the office. This was a thank you for
lunch. It was amazing how a simple thought made me feel so good and I could tell
Overtone was happy by his face.
On a Sunday there were always vibrations of music echoing
around Lilongwe. The Malawi tuneful beats made it to most areas. Whether it was
weddings, gigs or private barbeques people knew how to enjoy themselves. More
often than not it was a gig at the Lilongwe Golf Course, this loud music meant
any neighbour in area 3 could have similar music events without complaint. This was Malawi, music,
song and dance. Music vibrations sent the people to sleep and gospel choirs is what got the
people up in the morning especially on a Sunday.
One morning on a jog the valleys echoed harmonies of
different notes, the strength of the sounds set me at a faster pace. This was
what I loved about Malawi. I was an early riser and this meant the sun was low
yet it was already breathing strength from people’s inner souls. The choir changed my jog route and instead of
saluting the sun thanking someone for my fortunate life I did press ups. I changed
direction at my memorable spot then ran back up around to the open area where
the valley accentuated all notes from the church across from the old city
center.
Village
I remembered a few weeks back, I had felt quite down. I had
gone for a long jog. This always recollected my thoughts and processed something,
a solution, something that was better than sulking or feeling on edge. My
workers had complained about the strenuous work and the little pay they got for
it. Sometimes it was not easy being a boss: I remember these wise words from my
dad. I thought about my situation, being educated in my privileged life and
having much more money because of it. Life was not fair, I now agreed, the real
world had finally downgraded my idealist thoughts. While everyone complained
about getting up at the crack of dawn to farm and being tired before they got
to work I wondered what I could do to help. While running I realized I always
had energy in the mornings. I remembered getting up in the dark before school
to go and look after my horse. That was it. I would get up early and go and
farm with the ladies from my construction team.
I spoke to the Landirani Trust watch guard, Goswin and he
quietly repeated my name outside my window to make sure I was up before dawn. I
forgot my stretches that morning.
It was quiet, almost silent apart from some hooves trotting
from the main road then yelps and repetitive noises. There was a cloud of mist
rising then flitterring away over what must have been the river. The valley
struck me, it was a dimmer colour then I was used to, more magical. The land was half layered and lined with the
shadows accentuating the small alleys for crops. These rows of soil would be hoed to the next
line and therefore switched over and freshly turned for the next season of
rains and seeds.
That morning I arrived at Maggie’s house, she was one of my
construction workers whom I joked with about coming to farm. She greeted me,
laughing and calling me sister which proved she was happy to see me: I was not
sure whether they had expected me. Soon
a group of ladies had gathered and came over with greetings and smiles.
After the initial conversations the ladies explained there was a funeral in a
nearby village.
I know I say there's peace and tranquility of which there is most of the
time but people are people. People drink... and in the villages there
is this local moonshine substance which is very strong called kachasu. Apparently it
can disseminate and poison people's insides. After many drinks people
have this glazing twinkle overlapping their eyes. The strength turns
some quiet and others crazy and rowdy. Some turn blind. I can't count
the number of shouting arguements I've seen. These 2 guys were very drunk and had got in a fight where 1 died.
The ladies explained they would go to the village to give their
condolences before work. I wished them well and luckily got to spend my time
walking amoung the quiet beautiful setting. The sun was just rising, the orange
fire was whole and striped the land with more beauty. The sunsetting in the
evening and rising in the morning created such dramatic landscapes compared to
any other time of day.
Quiet moments like this made me think about my
family. My home could never be so striking,
perhaps in Virginia Water Lake on the rare fine summers day! The mornings and
evenings were very calm compared to the work in the daytime. I would often jog
my steps so I could get more things done in one day! Once work was over I threw a bucket of water over my head and relaxed. The sunset and then the pitch black night was what made the peaceful village. The light cloud above Lilongwe town was very far, too
far for any pollution. Our security lights were the only bright lights that
made our earth houses look like mansions. The glow reflected off the bushes
while the insects bleeped and wavered with the wind. I often sat out on our
veranda and watched the stars.
The week in the village always went very quickly and
suddenly it was Friday once again. The Landirani car took me back to town. To
the internet for the wider world, to the shower! I always started with a good
wash. As I walked back to the office with my laptop the primary school head teacher
from Bishopp Mackenzie International School spotted me. She said hello and gave
me a package of strawberries. I made it to the office without dropping one then and
was greeted by Overtone who gave me a
papaya. The neighbours had dropped some papayas off in the morning. It was the
start of a great time of year, strawberries, papaya and mango season.
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