Memories of farm life before Independence

Sunday afternoon, in the blistering heat, I was driving on a dusty winding road, along the Hwedza mountains going to the village. Then I saw an elderly lady flagging me to stop, obviously wanting a lift. She balanced a big bag on her head, and carried a plastic bag in her left hand while the right hand held on to a slightly bent walking stick.

I had already driven just over 200km from Harare listening to jazz music, alternating it with some religious drumming type music. I was alone. This is unusual, as I am often accompanied by my cousin Piri, Reuben, niece Shamiso or another relative going to the village.

For a brief moment I asked myself if I should stop and give the old lady a lift. Or should I simply pretend that I did not see her so I can continue to selfishly enjoy my music and admire the quiet countryside full of the fresh pfumvudza leaves, signs of the beginning of Spring in Zimbabwe.

But I stopped. The old lady struggled to get into the back of the car. She could have come to the front seat but I let her sit in the back since putting on a seat belt in the front seat is always a problem for those not used to moving around in cars.

Once she was comfortable, I did the polite ritual greetings and asked about her health. She said she was Mbuya Sande. She was on her way back from registering her cellphone line at the nearest phone shop in Hwedza. She had a son-in-law in Masvingo who wanted to send money to her by EcoCash. On the way back, she had failed to get a connecting kombi to her village.

"Uri mwana wekwaani wandibatsira kudai?" she asked, wanting to know who I was. When I mentioned my name and totem, she quickly smiled and said, "Ah, uri mwana wa Mai Nzenza? Mwana waa Shonga? Hii, Nyati Mhenyu!" the lady said, remembering my mother by her totem, Nyati the Buffalo.

She said she had known my mother well over the years. Mbuya Sande's village was just behind the mountain from us. But she did not know me, nor had I ever met her before.

I was soon to know why we were strangers to each other. Mbuya Sande had spent many years living on a farm, long before and after independence.

Mbuya Sande was born Makaita Gava. She first went to Mufudzi Wakanaka School when she was already a young woman with breasts, "ndatove mhandara ine mazamu". My father was the founder of the school in 1948. This means Makaita Gava was probably 12 or maybe 14 when she attended Sub A and Sub B.

It was a long distance to walk along the Save River and climb steep hills up and down to get to school. She stopped school and married a man from Mbire. When Makaita was expecting the first child, her husband was sadly eaten by a crocodile while fishing in the Save River.

She became a widow.

At the kurova guva ceremony, the ritual to bring back the spirit of the dead to join the ancestors, and also an opportunity for those who want to inherit the widow to line up and declare their willingness to marry the widow, Makaita refused to be inherited by her husband's brothers.

She returned to her people and stayed for a couple of years before moving to the farms around Fair Adventure.

"Saka makaenda kumapurazi nani?" I asked, meaning, who took you to the European farms?

"Ndega nemwana kumusana. Akazofira hake ko," she replied. I went with my baby on my back. He later died over there.

"Makasvikoshanda basa rei papurazi remurungu?" What work did you do on the white man's farm?

"Kufodya. Taidyara, kusakura, kubvisa masakazi, kuitanha, kuigiredha. Raive basa mwanangu." I worked in the tobacco fields. Sowing, weeding, picking and grading tobacco. It was hard work my child.

She worked in the tobacco and maize fields for three years. Then she met Sande of the Soko totem. Sande had left his village in Manyene near Chivhu, to look for employment at Chibhakera Farm.

This was not the real name of the farm.

When this country was at the height of tobacco, maize and livestock production, European farmers, just like the Native Commissioners, were given nicknames based on their characters. There were farm names like Kasora meaning The Little Weed, Chiwepu, The Whip, and Chibhakera, The Fist.

The couple lived in the farm compounds at Chibhakera Farm, near Fair Adventure in Hwedza.

Sande was the chief tractor driver and foreman.

He was well trusted by the white farmer, Baas Chibhakera. Baas said Sande was the only person who could whip people with a sjambok (chamboko) if they stole anything from the farm. And people were whipped. Vairohwa.

Mai Sande stopped field work and after she started cohabiting with Sande. They had nine children. There was no school on the farm. The nearest school was several miles away and too far to walk for most young farm children. Some boys and girls started going to school after the age of 10. Since there was no clinic, the women gave birth in the compounds, assisted by traditional midwives. Children were given traditional herbs to protect them from measles and other diseases.

There was a farm shop owned by Baas Chibhakera. Each farm labourer received maize-meal, cooking oil and salt. The cost of these groceries was deducted from the worker's salary. Some maize fields were allocated to the labourers and Baas Chibhakera's tractor tilled the land for them at no cost.

Ian Smith was the Prime Minister at about the same time that Mbuya Sande went to Chibhakera Farm.

Rhodesia had just over 200 000 white people and about four million Africans.

Ian Smith was responsible for promoting an election campaign promising "a whiter, brighter Rhodesia" with no interference from the British who were telling him that Africans should also have the right to vote.

Smith was not at all happy with the British.

He said this country would not see majority rule, "never in a thousand years". In 1965 Ian Smith told the people: "The mantle of the pioneers has fallen on our shoulders," and white Rhodesians should brace themselves to uphold European standards in a "primitive country".

"Mumwe musi, ndakati kumurume wangu, honai vana voita majaya nemhandara vasingagoni kuti a, e, i, o, u. Hupenyu hwepano papurazi hurikuita vana vedu mazirema," said Mai Sande to her husband. Shall our children grow up to be young men and women without the ability to read a,e, i,o, u? This life on the white man's farm is making our children into illiterate and ignorant fools.

She begged that they should go to his village and build their home. "When you are too old to work, Baas will not want you anymore. You will retire from this farm with nothing," she said.

"And what did he say?" I asked, as I kept on driving along the dusty road. At the same time, I looked beyond the trees and hills and could see the school my father started in 1948. This is the school that Mai Sande had learnt to read and write.

Mai Sande said. "My husband did not listen to me. That conversation about children's education led to many fights between us." I could see her sad face in the mirror in front of me.

Her memories of farm life took me back to the Shona novel titled "Dzasukwa Mwana Asina Hembe", written by the first African Archbishop of the Catholic Church, Patrick Chakaipa. It was published in 1967, during the time of colonialism, when independence was just a dream.

At that time, the land was well and truly colonised. In the book, there is a foromani, or foreman, who specialises in drinking until all the beer pots are clean. Meanwhile, his children suffer from lack of clothing and education. The book gave us an insight into farm life, the joys, sorrows and mostly the hardships of African workers.

But, everything comes to an end, hapana chisingaperi. Ian Smith stopped being Prime Minister at independence. Prince Charles was sent by the Queen to collect the British flag and 'bless' Zimbabwe's liberation from colonial rule. Years later, some people moved from our village to new resettlement areas where their parents and grandparents used to work as farm labourers. Others built big huts and kraals at what used to be Chibhakera farm.

Mbuya Sande left the farm after her husband died just before the land reform. She has since moved back to her maiden home near us. She grows maize and groundnuts when the rains come. In the dry season, like now, she goes to the gardens by the Save River and grows fresh tomatoes and vegetables to feed her two grandchildren.

She believes in education and hard work. In Masvingo town, her son-in-law sends money by EcoCash to support the two children being cared for by their grandmother. The children will read beyond a,e,i,o, u. One day, who knows, they might become great teachers, nurses, doctors or good farmers.

Dr Sekai Nzenza is a writer and cultural critic.