Your Colonies Need You
Author:
Donal O'Mahony
[Excerpt] When the whisle finally blew full-time in November 1918 Germany had suffered its first major defeat in an international contest for a very long time. The triumphant British team managers decided that cold economics being what they were, the time was opportune to give free transfers to many of its now redundant players. A plan was put afoot to encourage them to partake of a life of ease in the sun-drenched reaches of Central and East Africa. To keep the class structure in order, Senior Officers got Kenya, Junior Officers and NCOs got Rhodesia and the Footies were left with Northern Nigeria (now Zambia)!
After a short foray into the Copperbelt I joined the newly-formed Consultancy wing of Coopers & Lybrand in Lusaka as a consultant.
The first job I was handed involved an urgent appraisal of the national agricultural co-operative organisation which was coming apart at the seams. I had only a week-end at their Livingstone headquarters to formulate ideas on whether it was a case for the undertakers or if the kiss of life would be the answer.
At an emergency board meeting convened for the following Monday morning I proceeded to explain why I thought the position could be reversed with a strengthened management structure and the co-operation of bankers and members. As I was getting into my stride the door suddenly burst open and a distraught woman announced that her husband, who happened to be the Chief Executive, had just shot himself! In the circumstances the Board turned to me to put my money where my mouth was and perform a company resuscitation. Thus I found myself running the show for the next three years within the sights and sounds of the Musi OA Tunya (The Smoke that Thunders) better known as the Victoria Falls.
All communications with rebel Rhodesia were strictly forbidden at that time and the only way to nip over on a break was to travel some 40 miles down-river to a ferry crossing point on the Zambezi then into Botswana and from there back up-river into Rhodesia but it was always well worth it. The Zambezi Yacht Club which claimed to be one of the oldest in Africa was sitiuated some few miles up river from the Falls and I became its Commodore. I was no sooner settling in to the post when two South African members got into trouble with the police and disappeared quick smart across the border. As a consequence, by Presidential Decree, all club boating activities on the river were banned and I was left completely beached with a high and dry fleet! However it was a good drinking hole for the thirsty expatriates and many's a good night was had there. I have seen two somewhat inebriated members on a midnight binge, strip off, dive from the balcony into the crocodile infested Zambezi, swim some quarter of a mile to Monkey Island in mid stream and return hale and hearty and remarkably all in one piece. I can only assume that well marinated mariners meat was not to the crocs liking!
Our tobacco grading operations gave seasonal employment to some 500 locals whose job it was to select the cured leaf into types before it went to the auction floors. Since there was about 40 acres of fallow land within the compound I had them clear it and plant all types of fruit and vegatables for the local markets. One of my treaured crops comprised of strawberry beds which fruited about three times a year. Occasionally marauding elephants would break down the wiring surrounding the compound on a midnight quest for the mapundi fruit trees which grew in aboundance there. Remarkably they would delicately tip-toe through the beds to reach them without crushing even one strawberry. Still more remarkable the fruit would quickly forment in their bellies and leave them to make their way home quite the worst for wear, with almighty hangovers and no doubt seeing little pink men!
An old lady told me of how she came to live in Africa. Her father had emigrated from Russia during a Jewish pogram in the 1890s and started farming in the north of the country. After a few years he decided to take upon himself a wife and remembering a beautiful young child in his homeland village he wrote to her parents asking for her hand in marriage. She however by then was already married so her parents arranged to secretly substitute her for a somewhat plainer sister and packed her off to her unsuspecting husband-to-be. The ruse worked probably as he didn't fancy paying out a return fare for her!
One of his grandsons had an amethyst mine near Lake Kariba and was quite a Don Juan in his spare time. On one occasion, at an isolated game lodge on Lake Tanganika, he dived into the lake and grabbed a crocodile and proceeded to throw it into the cocktail bar to impress a girl guest. She was indeed very impressed and with the rest of the guests scattered for her life! I took a chance once and drove the 500 odd miles up there with my two youngest sons for a long weekend. Not having booked ahead I discovered that there was 'no room at the inn' but unlike the Holy Family we finished up staying on board the Presidential Yacht of the unsuspecting Kenneth Kuanda. The night was disturbed however with incessant nudging sounds from the side of the boat and I arose and shone a flashlamp onto the water to be greeted by the beady red eyes of hundreds of curious crocodiles. I thought twice about having an early morning swim next day!
Smoke gets in your eyes
After successfully completing my task in Livingstone I moved to Lusaka to become financial advisor to the Tobacco Board of Zambia which was having a few headaches. The output of this cherished weed had dropped substantially over the years and not for lack of consumption on my part. A fellow Irishman, Hugh Mc Enery, ran the show but try as he might he couldn't plug the dykes fast enough. Of the thousand odd tractors in the field less than a quarter were servicable due to the 'Hot-Rod' antics of the local drivers. He came up with the bright idea to replace the fleet with oxon and thus achieve a major saving on foreign exchange capital costs, maintenance and running expenses and finally having residual consumable value. I questioned his logic and suggested that the replacement fleet would hit the butchers slab before it even got pulling a plough. In the event I was proved right and perhaps in its own way this was a classic illustration of the effects of Gresham's Law!
On discovering that my new next door neighbour was also Irish I invited him to a party at the Lusaka Golf Club which prided itself in having one of the best courses in the world and whose members consisted principally of well-heeled expatriates skilled in the art of Exchange Control evasion. When we entered the bar there was a ominous silence and members and their wives hurriedly shed gold Rolex watches, Cartier jewellery. De Beer diamond rings and even some of the women tried to strip out of their Christian Dior Gowns! I was later to learn to my embarrassment that Fred, my guest, was non other than the top man recently appointed by the President to stamp out the foreign exchange fiddles which were rampant at that time. As a result I was placed in â??Purdah' by my colleagues for my stupidity and further punished by having my handicap slashed by two!
Accountancy Ireland Vol 34 No 2 April 2002