Another Man Down, Do Or Don’t Do.
This week we saw the passing of David Hunt, a retired successful businessman and a member of our diminishing Tuesday Group. David and his brother ran a successful plumbing business with the Catholic church as an anchor client. The Tuesday Group, latterly Old farts is still called the Tuesday Group although we meet on a Thursday. For us old toppies, it's bad enough changing the day without changing the name. It would not be wrong to say it is diminishing quickly in numbers, perhaps as it is now a group made up of elderly men unable to attract younger participants.
“Age does not slow, it gathers momentum.” - Peter Mcsporran
It reminds me of the Red Lion Bar at Harare Sports Club where the corner nearest the toilets was reserved for the elderly. This saved long walks for their frequent visits to the toilet, another symptom of age. That bend on the bar was known as ‘The Shithouse Chicane.’
David Hunt and his wife Gloria lived at the far end of our village both making us very welcome on arrival in Portugal. David had a dry sense of humour and always good company. His hair and attire were always impeccable, I am sure he may have been a ladies' man in his day, at least his grooming would indicate that. We had some wonderful social outings, not least one going to see Tom Jones perform live in Cascais. Due to the delayed start and copious amounts of whisky guzzled before the show, it would have been an enjoyable night even if the ageing star had failed to perform. Perform he did. Unfortunately, both David and I were unfit to drive the next day. Thank goodness for our wives. Goodbye Dave, my friend and my sincere condolences to Gloria.
Every now and again Craig Bone, the renowned Zimbabwean (he may say Rhodesian) wildlife artist posts excerpts of his forthcoming book. This is predicted to be a volume of some thousand pages about he and his comrades in arms' experiences, not just in the war but also on their travels. I envy him for his descriptive talents of life in the army and bush. I actually have three paintings of his on our wall, the first purchased way back in 1983. He was a member of the Rhodesian Light Infantry and although badly wounded, he returned to the field with much of his one leg missing. In contrast to my writing, which seems to be a rather boring recital of events in my life, his tales are much more intense in content and reflection. I cannot wait to read this book.
Normally close to or even within the week of writing my blog someone says something that triggers a train of thought. This week it was an elderly contestant on Mastermind who, on research, I was to find her quote may have been based on one of Mark Twain’s.
“You will always regret more the things you didn't do rather than those you did do.” - Anna Milford Goldstein, winning heat contestant on Mastermind this week.
This got both Rozanne’s and my mind ticking with our personal reflections. The above lady quoted this on her claimed surprise at winning the Mastermind heat on Monday night. She was an elderly lady who informed viewers she had competed in Mastermind some fifty-odd years ago, only coming third in that particular heat. She thought why not give it another shot, so there she was despite it seemed struggling to hear the questions. She was not so good on the specialist subject but killed it in general knowledge making her the week’s qualifier for the semi-finals. An inspiration in that; it is never too late to do things.
In my life, up until recently when there was an opportunity in business or pleasure, I would always be happy to give it a go. Take a chance so to speak, perhaps that’s why I liked the casino. Some of my more conservative-minded friends may have called me a reckless chancer. There certainly is a good chance my father would have thought this. Occasionally it was to invest in some hair-brained scheme, at times perhaps a spontaneous fishing trip to the Zambezi River or Lake Kariba. Only once elected into the CFU as Vice-President in 1992 was I no longer able to do as I pleased with pre-determined daily commitments the norm for the following four years. The same is true of retirement, although now it is the lack of will to do so.
Looking back, did I ever regret the major decisions I made? Not the major ones, but some of the smaller ones, although I do not think it is worth writing about those. If I did, my computer memory would crash.
The first good major decision was resigning from the Merchant Navy and studying agriculture. This was probably my best decision, there is no doubt I would not have been happier in any career other than farming. I always imagined living on a farm, even in retirement until my dying day looking after a few ‘pedigree coos’ with someone else sharing cropping the farm. Mugabe ensured the latter was not to be.
The craziest choice was probably moving to Rhodesia following its Unilateral Declaration of Independence. Mind you, I did have a return ticket which I quickly cashed in to start my new life in that wonderful country. No regrets there, how boring would my life have been if I remained in Scotland? I often wonder. What are the chances of me having bought a farm or becoming the President of the farmers union? Very unlikely to the first and not a chance to the second.
“Those who have lived in Africa rarely regret it, no matter the time or reason for leaving.” - Peter McSporran
The next major decision was joining the army when called-up rather than scarpering back to Scotland or more likely some other foreign land. The army gave me great insight into human nature, its cruelty, frailty and at times its compassion. Most of all the importance of comrades. It taught me how important it was to look out for your buddies who also looked out for you. It especially taught me how to take shit from some very stupid people, making it much easier to follow those that made a semblance of sense in later life.
“Avoid anyone who claims to be your friend or a business associate if in any way they show hesitation in coming to your assistance. Treat them with extreme caution, they are not to be trusted, they will surely let you down in future.” - Peter McSporran
If it was not for the war, I often wonder if Diane would have married me, me a young farm assistant and her very young. Would her parents have given permission? Marriage was a huge step and my only regret was that it did not last. Diane and I built a large farming company together and had two wonderful daughters within that marriage. Regrettably, it ended after twenty years but I cannot say I regretted it. I remember on call-up in PATU speaking to Mike Bedford, he informed me he regretted his marriage. I said, “Mike, you have two great kids!” He said as only Mike could, “You heard what I said.” He was to get divorced and later become happily married to Beth until his untimely death at the hands of poachers.
In talking about marriage one must therefore ask; do you regret getting divorced? Once again, no. Very sad and frustrated that the marriage broke down but I would be wrong to say I regretted the actual divorce.
“If one is unhappy in life, only one can fix it. Unfortunately, this may adversely impact others.” - Peter McSporran
On being approached to stand as Vice-President of the Commercial Farmers Union (CFU), later, President, leading to a huge discussion with Diane and friends as this role in Zimbabwe’s turbulent political atmosphere was a full-time job. Farming would be relegated to the weekends and Monday mornings. Thank goodness I had by then a strong team both in management and administration on the farm to allow me to do this. Despite this, it had its cost in extra management requirements.
“The best manure on any farm is the farmer's footprints.” - An old farming saying
In doing so it introduced me to working with government at the highest level, interacting with other businessmen, getting involved in agricultural education and finally opened the door to a diverse number of businesses, including agricultural marketing. It provided me with grounding and connections, enabling me to have the courage and expertise to move to Zambia after we lost the farms. In hindsight, the CFU had been a good decision, although throughout my tenure with the CFU, I did have concerns for my farming business and my marriage did suffer.
Moving to Zambia was a good move as was setting up the scheme to move displaced farmers up there. I believe I played a big part in the progressive changes that took place in agriculture up there following our arrival. That exercise, fundraising and management were the best practical experience possible for the role of supporting investors in African agriculture.
I have not regretted one minute getting married to Rozanne, despite for many years self-proclaiming myself to be a ‘born-again-bachelor’. I declared I would never marry again. Never say never. We were married three weeks after our first date. Phew! Thank goodness it worked out.
Rozanne convinced me to move to Portugal, something I would probably not have done without her enthusiasm to do so, rather than returning to Zimbabwe for my old age. That would have been very unwise especially considering the past six years of health challenges. I would undoubtedly be broke.
In what I regret, there are really only three events which niggle my conscience. The first two are for not attending both my daughters' graduations in Cape Town. I feel bad about this and both my girls are right to feel let down. My excuse was I was too busy with CFU matters, unacceptable being the boss, I could have made the time. The third, I got the dates of my sister's memorial service wrong. It was taking place in Malawi and when my brother-in-law called to remind me a day or so before the event, I found myself in Europe unable to get back. I do feel guilty about that.
Naturally, there is a litany of minor events such as car accidents, poor investments etc but these on reflection were not major events, rather part of life although instigated by poor insight.
“Things in life could have been different. In my life it is not due to the fact of not doing.” - Peter McSporran
A Huge Surprise in 1983.
By 1983 we had paid for the farm, much to our financial advisers, John Knight’s surprise, and were planning to move back to our newly built house on Diandra.
Up until then, I believed I had two full sisters, one deceased as an infant, a half brother and a half-sister. Imagine my surprise when I received a letter from my father with the most incredible news that there was another sister. I say letter, as in those days even in Zimbabwe the mail still worked. Just as well there was no internet and our telephones were still the same as those used on the film sets of Dr Findlay’s Casebook. Even today with Brexit, post from the UK takes weeks rather than days as it used to do. The said letter informed me I had another younger half-sister from my father and stepmother born out of wedlock. This child had immediately been put up for adoption, the details of why I have never been clear on. This was my strict father telling me he had an affair with Flora, my step-mum to be. Unbelievable.
Needless to say, I got on a flight and made my way to Dundee in Scotland to meet my ‘new sister.’ What a delight she turned out to be and we got to know each other over a wine and cheese meal in her flat which was part of a very large house belonging to her adoptive parents, both psychologists. I met her mother, Camilla, unfortunately, her dad had already passed. Her appearance I think strengthened my family connection to my other half-siblings who I had always treated as full brother and sister. I got on with them all. I will chat about my siblings next week, all very successful in their chosen careers.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
Comments