Kris Massie's memories of Kitwe.
Part 29
One of our labourers had spotted a large, indeed a very large 18-20 foot crocodile in the river. We issued instructions that the river bank was a ‘no-go’ area because some would pop down there for a spot of fishing. By now Luka had left our employ – in fact he disappeared without trace one day never to be seen again … Occasionally inexplicable mysteries occur in Africa and they become accepted as part of life. This was one of them.
My replacement for him was the wife of one of our workers. After about a year she became pregnant and as her time neared she brought along a relative to take her place while she was otherwise occupied. The girl I think was deaf – we were never sure nor did we like to ask for fear of upsetting her. Instructions had to be specifically given, sometimes in a very loud voice and almost mimed at times.
She did not heed our ‘no fishing’ instructions. It was a Saturday morning when a great shout went up and I raced to the veranda to see her running madly from the bank and unbelievably, the crocodile after her. Make no mistake, they may look unwieldy but they can move on those short legs! They can also swing their tail round with force, enough to knock one clean off one’s feet. Thankfully she had the presence of mind to run around a small rockery that the previous owner had built just up from the bank and this slowed the moment of the crocodile as she hastened up the lawn and out of danger. The crocodile seeing its quarry disappear made its way back into the river.
We informed the police to ask permission to have it shot for they are a protected species in Zambia. We had a visit from the police chief no less, a very large jovial man who had no quibble with our request and in fact, went further by telling us that if we came across any poachers or thieves we were to toss them into the river! The prison cells were overcrowded he said and such individuals were a menace hampering much more important police work … we said nothing. What could one say to that?
We contacted a wild life ranger who came along and scoured the area a few times but we never spotted this crocodile again.
On the brighter side of the wildlife we saw in our stretch of the Kafue many Hippopotami. One could spend hours watching them in the water and listening to their ‘guffaws’ particularly at night as one drifted off to sleep. Most soothing! Of an early morning with birdsong in the air one could often spot a small bush buck or two on the lawn. All of these made a nice interlude from the slithering kind!
Jim informed us one day that he had met someone and could he bring her along to the farm. Of course! This is how we met Marguerite who in subsequent years became my ‘bosom pal.’ In time the two made marriage plans and she asked me to be her witness. The ceremony to take place in the Magistrate’s Court or Boma as it was known locally. A Boma is normally a livestock enclosure, a stockade or a type of fort or, in this case, a district government office.
On the day, I dashed across the road in my BCal uniform to attend. The whole thing very nearly ended in fiasco. In fact it did when the Clerk of the Court stamped the marriage certificate for the Magistrate to sign and he spotted that the date on the stamp did not tally. In fact there was no date!! The certificate sported 00 November … and then the fun started for neither the Magistrate nor the Clerk knew what to do next. We sat around whilst the two argued and haggled with the Magistrate loudly proclaiming he could be sued! I foresaw us being there for hours, if not days and months, which was when I stood up and made a suggestion. ‘If you cross out the incorrect date and re-stamp it correctly, we all swear (turning to everyone who vigorously nodded) we will not sue you!’ A few more mutterings later and the deed done – we were all free to go!!! It was to become one of the best comedy acts much talked about in the years to come.
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