Family Reunion, The Modern World is Leaving Me Behind. The Trying Year; 1997.
- petermacsporran
- Mar 21
- 8 min read
For a change, I am writing this on a Tuesday as there is a window of peace mainly brought about by the first night of collateral damage from a late evening. Just as on a fishing trip with a group on Lake Kariba, most of the alcohol is drunk on the first night, so it has been with my family and the arrival of friends. The day started gently enough with an early lunch at the Snack Bar Rio, a traditional Portuguese working man's restaurant which serves excellent fare at non-tourist rates catering for the local clientele. A place Rozanne and I have often frequented before Covid-19 and my illness. Luckily, it has not changed and the excellent meal kept everyone quiet until we extended it to cater for some late arrivals including Linda Kuhn and her daughter Andrea and finally when my daughter Janine and her husband Nathan arrived, being delayed by flights by a full twenty four hours on their travels from Dallas, Texas.
Little wonder I dread the thought of getting on an aeroplane once more. In saying that, Rozanne and I are cautiously planning to fly to Scotland at the end of next month to gate crash our son Selby’s and his fiancee Maggie’s wedding at the end of April. I am also planning for it to be my last trip to the UK to say goodbye to some old friends who I am highly unlikely to see again. I certainly do not plan to fly to ‘Mud Island’ again and a visit to Scotland is sure to have my spirits dampened listening to the farmers' woes which have been coming hard and fast since the Labour government was elected in that country.
There I go off on a tangent. After lunch everyone headed back to our apartment to continue with the wine and the addition of beer or any other alcohol to hand. Here we were joined by the Wiersmas from Holland and my sister Fiona and her partner Gordon Foster. Cards were played but mostly drinks were drunk. Then off to Lazuli Bar for cocktails with plans to head somewhere for dinner. This did not materialise and when the bar closed everyone headed for our apartment with a group taking a detour to buy some pizzas. Loads of pizzas. Some of us more sedately sipped alcohol while others; most, gulped the stuff. It should be said the younger generation more so than the older, although my brother-in-law Rob Cary and Linda Kuhn showed good staying power. Needless to say, it is well past mid-morning as I write with many still to make an appearance. My son-in-law Nathan from America generously gave me a bottle of Cardhu which he kindly drank most of before retiring. Gordon and I managed a couple of tots but Nathan proved himself to be a man of determination in his effort to find the bottom of the bottle. I wonder what the rest of the week will bring? I will write an update next week. It should be said due to the awful weather, and the forecast of worse to come, the two fishing trips booked have been cancelled to my and the other fishermen and womens dismay. The important thing is it is a gathering of friends and family from around the world who would be unlikely to get together without the hard work of Rozanne inviting them, and where necessary, organising their stay. A huge thanks from me as she has had a really tough past five years.
The structures of the fisherman sentence and similar always give me trouble. Some men and women are happy with both genders included as fishermen while others, because of their gender, take exception at being called fishermen. I am told for instance it is wrong to call a male waiter a waiter and a female waiter a waitress rather than waiters. What the hell is a fisherman, male and female? Fishers? I came across this, which I think rather sums me up in this modern world where virtual has become real and real, such as physical work, has become archaic and a role only for the uneducated. I think my views of the modern world are cleverly summed up by the words of Douglas Adams which I came across last week.
The Three Laws of Technology:
Anything in the world when you're born is just a natural part of the way the world works.
Anything invented between when you're fifteen and thirty-five is new and exciting and revolutionary.
Anything invented after you’re thirty-five is against the natural order of things.
I struggle to understand how someone who can work on a virtual concept in front of a computer screen can get paid more than someone who makes, grows, builds or tends. Is this why the modern politicians in Europe have little regard for the farmer? They believe the computer can feed or fuel them without the consideration of the effect of these virtual policies on real work. Meanwhile, people need to be fed, cared for and have the energy to live comfortably. I watch my farming podcasts, often honestly portraying how little is earned, of hard work through the most miserable cold weather or hottest drought depending on their geological location, wondering how long will the family farm, and the communities it supports will continue to survive. For many now that is what it is, a fight for annual survival rather than a long term career offering a sustainable income.
“Even cars today are more concept-based than practical, relying on traditional sources of energy and the backs of child labour for their manufacture. Something to boast about having rather than a true solution to global warming.” - Peter McSporran
On reflection I do wonder at the amazing advances in science and need to recognise this, but equally this is offset by my fear of a world where personal interaction is fast becoming totally virtual. This is at the expense of natural human interaction. Lies are much easier to sell in the virtual world, guilt, greed or malice is readily hidden in cyberspace.
“For me, cyberspace is making the world a very dangerous place. Love and killing is more often than nought brought about by fingers on a keyboard or mouse. Lack of human contact removes any empathy you may have for your fellow man, victim or potential lover.” - Peter McSporran
1997 started out fairly well, be it a bit lonelier with me becoming a ‘Born Again Batchelor.’In early 1997 I was invited by Sandy Irivine to join the board of Acacia Holdings, the old Tinto Industries. Their interest in me was for advice on their agricultural equipment and irrigation divisions. What stunned me on joining the group was the huge engineering works now standing idle after fifteen years of independence. Following the years of the Unilateral Declaration of Independence of Rhodesia companies like Tinto Industries had huge captive markets both in agricultural equipment supplies and mining machinery. With the freeing up of the market, especially mines able to source from abroad with access to forex from their mineral exports, local industries were finding it hard to compete. Farmers were also happier to buy precision imported planters and equipment rather than locally manufactured equipment lacking the latest technology. Change had come and a lot of the local companies were now competing against larger international conglomerates. Good for the end user but a huge blow in terms of local manufacture and of course jobs. Further skilled artisans were leaving for greener pastures, many, with hindsight, foolishly to South Africa, the wiser further afield to Australasia. Needless to say, Acacia was still manufacturing agricultural equipment, was the only plough and heavy harrow disc manufacturer and was the agent of some of the international renowned brands of irrigation and agricultural equipment. Later in the year I was asked by John Moxom to join the board of Tanganda Tea Co, the very company my future brother-in-law, Lindsay Ross, worked for when I first came to Rhodesia. I remember when I first visited the estates in Chipinga being looked down on by the General Manager as the brother of the engineer’s wife. In 1972 Rhodesia was still a very snobbish place, by 1997 that had long changed and here I was now a director. The wheels of life.
Another role I took on more as a public duty was to join, at the invitation or perhaps insistence of John Laurie the Environmental Trust of Zimbabwe. Unfortunately it did not take me long to realise that although recognised and instigated by the Government there had never been any intention to listen to let alone enforce environmental good practice other than on paper. Frustrating yes and at times visually horrifying seeing human waste and chemical effluent from industries and mines freely flowing into rivers; it was not for me.
“There is no point in keeping a watchdog when it has no bite of its own and you chose to ignore its bark.” - Peter McSporran
I think I hung in there for about eighteen months until John advised me it was better I resigned. John was an amazing man, who believed everything could be changed by dialogue and tenacity, this trait he carried into his dealings in trying to resolve the land issue.
In mid-1997 I also met a South African girl while watching rugby one afternoon at the Red Fox Hotel, Greendale, Harare. She lived in Johannesburg and commuted to Harare occasionally to do some work for the sugar industry. I pursued this girl for some six months which accumulated in an embarrassing break up at Phil and Lee Vermaak at Christmas that year which my eldest daughter, Storm, likes to on occasion remind me of, as if it still did not make me shudder just with the memory.
That was not the worst thing to happen. As I drove into the shopping centre at Westgate on my way home on the 14th of November, I heard on the news that Mugabe had agreed to pay out some ZW4.2 billion to some fifty thousand war veterans. Everyone knew this to be a hugely exaggerated number and to do so it meant he had to print lots of money. I remember the huge sinking feeling I had, for up until then, despite his flaws Mugabe seemed a strong leader. This action now portrayed him as a weak leader willing to compromise the good of the country for his survival. There also happened to be a countrywide electricity blackout that day and hence along with the negative effects on the stock market and the currency came to be known as ‘Black Friday.’ The ZW$ lost 72% of its value that day and the local stock market 46% of its previous day capitalisation. Zimbabwe-to-be had arrived, taking everyone by surprise.
Yet another postscript attributable to the "New Zimbabwe.' It saddens me so often to read appeals for crowdfunding to help those remaining in Zimbabwe who require financial support, often for health or age reasons, because they cannot afford to support themselves or fund their or their loved one's health care needs. My old friend Roger Manely brought to my attention yet one more, and I agreed to post the site's address. It is to raise money by Leon Vali for cancer treatment for his daughter. Ian is walking to raise the required funds.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
Comments