Kris Massie's memories of Kitwe.
Part 19
My friend in the Close's husband often went camping in the bush and both boys together with their eldest son, went along and they were taught how to fish, build a proper fire, erect tents - all that goes with the camping lark. Most importantly when leaving, to clear up and leave the site in the same condition it was in when they arrived. They were able to learn so much from these trips which were a ‘men and boys’ only event!
I made a couple of trips to see my Dad then living with my brother, his wife and their two children. Flights were now accessible with a few routes to select from. Air Malawi via Blantyre, Air Botswana via Gaberone or Swazi Air via Mbabane and with a transfer of airline, you would be taken further to South Africa or Europe. Later of course Air Malawi were too fly to and from London on a Comet which I also flew to South Africa from Blantyre. I remember fairly recently trying to tot up the various makes of aircraft I’ve flown on … some no longer in operation and fly-able! Zambia Airways was the only airline permitted to incorporate ‘feeder’ flights to the Copperbelt and other places with airports or aerodromes within Zambia. This airline was created in 1964 as a subsidiary of Central African Airways and sadly liquidated in 1995 due to the down turn in the economy as part of the reason.
I changed my work to become a Nurses Aide at the privately run Company Clinic sponsored by local businesses. It was very different from the hospital where I had been and where lack of funds and drugs plus dreadful overcrowding were some of their main problems. (There was the occasion when No 1 son sustained a fractured collar bone during a game of rugby and they wished to keep him in - this was before we were able to go to Nkana Hospital - and he would have had a mattress on the floor! There was no way I would permit this and brought him home). It was fortunate that we had such an opportunity when local folk had no choice. Horror of horrors, there was talk of rats running around the wards at night! To work at the Kitwe Clinic was pure luxury by comparison.
We had to collect a patient one day at the request of his girlfriend. A nurse colleague and I arrived at their flat to find the boyfriend very ill in a filthy bed and refusing point blank to leave it. There was nothing we could do and returned empty handed. Imagine my surprise on resuming duty after the weekend to be told by Matron that he was a patient and ‘he’s your baby’ and ‘I know you can handle him!’ No nurse would go near him as a result of his foul language and aggressive mood and I soon dealt with that! He had developed Blackwater Fever, a complication of Malaria which he had neglected to have treated. He was very fortunate to recover.
An 8 month old infant had been admitted with an untold number of what appeared to be ‘boils.’ I should explain that in parts of Tropical Africa there is a fly which lays eggs in linings and hems of clothing hung out to dry. It is therefore imperative that everything is ironed to destroy the eggs and to kill the subsequent hatching of maggots. Various names are given to this fly in other African countries, but in Zambia they are known as a Putsi Fly, causing parasitic infections under the skin of anyone wearing un-ironed clothing, hence the ‘boil’ type skin eruptions. The best method of ‘ripening’ these is to cover them with Vaseline preventing the maggot from breathing and so, killing it. Over the weekend the Vaseline had been applied and on my arrival for work at the start of the week, they were deemed ready for squeezing. I had the job. The poor baby was covered and in excess of 40 and dead maggots were extracted. The parents were suitably advised of the required prevention.
It was brilliant working in theatre assisting the theatre sister and watching as the surgeon set about his work.
It might be considered a strange set up for while I was employed by the Company Clinic, I continued voluntary Red Cross work. The Clinic had no ambulance of its own and was able to call on the Red Cross should such be required.
I relate the following occurrence because of what we had to contend with in patient transferral. Our patient was due to have her baby when it was found she presented placenta previa and as the theatre at the Clinic was not suitable because this required a Caesarean section and the Red Cross were called on to provide an ambulance not available at the Clinic. Her husband travelled separately, he had to call in at Rhokana Mine’s Wusikili Hospital to collect blood for his wife should she require a transfusion. My friend came to be with her, while I drove us to Luanshya’s Mine Hospital.
The journey was urgent and with siren blaring and lights flashing we set off … only to be harassed by other drivers on the road. Instead of giving way and pulling over, they raced us, over-taking at every opportunity and waving with glee as they did so … I can tell you the air was blue … we arrived safely and happily so it was too for mother and baby.
Such an event I must say left one totally drained, albeit gratified.
On a return visit to Kitwe in 2001 we visited the husband on his farm outside Kitwe and there I met the now young man, who was born after our hasty journey to Luanshya – he greeted me enthuisiastically having been told the story by his parents!
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