1968 Notebook

An old map of Zambia.

 

Journey from Victoria Falls to the Copperbelt.

They say that once you’ve crossed the Zambezi, you’ll always return.   

You’ll come back to this country, for its beauty you’ll yearn.

 

How many times has that theory been proven so true,

we’ve said goodbye to our friends, packed up and left you.

Only to come back in a few years time, to the river,

winding  its way through this country so fine.

 

The Victoria Falls with enormous gorges,

rushing water as if from a thousand rivers,

 rainbow of colours, the noise of the falls,

the excitement of watching those solid water walls.

Cruising down river on boats with game guards,

watching for hippos or crocs in their paths.

 

Sunsets on Lake Kariba as birds all rise

over game that runs free on either side

of a lake that’s so big it has waves like a sea…

Sundowners on the terrace looking over the water,

watching the sun’s death at seven and a quarter…

 

Driving through the escarpment, that range of hills forming a border

between two countries, a vital road link that’s little-used now

as they quarrel over things that don’t matter somehow.

 

Bowling along the road to Lusaka and the Copperbelt.

Across the Zambezi again, while the heat melts.

 

Arrive in Lusaka at lunchtime to see

the streams of traffic in that busy city,

then on through the maise fields and sugar cane,

up to Kabwe where it’s stacked ready for the trains.

A long empty stretch and you reach Kapiri

– if you blink a lot, you’ll miss it completely.

 

Straight flat roads to drive ‘til you’re bored.

The turn-off at Fisenge to get on the right road

and you’re on your way to Kitwe and the Rhokana Mine

– the Hub of the Copperbelt and a town that’s fine.

 

One of the largest and best-equipped mines around

where they hurl the copper-bearing ore up from the ground.

Under the surface, the tunnels are huge

– all white tiled and sparkling – nothing crude.

 

Perfectly safe for all the workers below,

stepping into the cages as they go,

down in the depths to seek the country’s life-blood.

Working long hours earning money to buy food

 

for their many children and wives,

who’ve gone without for most of their lives.

Now wages are better – conditions more fair,

good health and happiness no longer so rare.

 

Neat houses and gardens well-tended line the streets.

Lots of shady park benches where gossipers meet.

A way of life that can’t be compared; peace

and quiet, beauty in the sunshine, fresh air…

 

Days to laze and lots of time to contemplate

how good life can be, before it’s too late.

Relax, while you’re young, enjoy the sunshine and happiness of home

surrounded by friends you’re never alone.

 

Make a point of crossing our Zambezi River  sometime

– take a long, long holiday – come see this fabulous country of mine!

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 1973

 

@FrancesMForde  #Nostalgia  #LovePoemAfrica  #Zambia  #NorthernRhodesia  #POEM:VicFallsCopperBelt

 

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Hello…Will you… I do.

There’s this cute idea making the rounds on Instagram :

1. Where you met your partner,

2. Where they proposed

3. Where you said “I do”.

I’d love to participate but I don’t have a smart phone or Instagram account.

However, I will participate, as much as I can.

1. 1973 Kitwe, Zambia at an audition for a keyboard player with the band ‘Paper Lace’.

  

 2.  In his town house, St Mary’s Road, Midleton, Ireland, June 2003.

  

3.  Hillarys Boat Harbour, Western Australia, November 2003.

  

@FrancesMForde  #Midleton,Cork  #Kitwe,Zambia  #HillarysBoatHarbour,WA  #Love  #Romance

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POEM:Tiyende Pamodzi…

“Buy experience, not things.”

Today, Zambia is celebrating 50 years of independence – 24th October 2014 and I can’t help singing to myself – her 1st President Kenneth Kaunda’s signature song: Tiyende Pamodzi :   “Let’s go together in harmony.”

I’m still torn between my idyllic childhood in the center of Africa, Northern Rhodesia now Zambia and Perth, Western Australia where I’ve been ever since leaving ‘home’.

Mana Pools, Zambezi River.

They say, once you’ve crossed the mighty Zambezi River  you’ll always return. I haven’t yet. I keep in ‘touch’ though, with many friends who have or who also miss ‘home’ and enjoy sharing wonderful memories.

2014 © Heather Chalcraft

Lowdown Magazine is written by Heather Chalcraft who takes amazing photos of Zambia now.  This is the Flamboyant or Flame Tree, the sight of which takes me back to Kitwe and Lusaka as quickly as Jacarandas do.

In fact, my man and I reunited on the Great North Road website after 28 years and have been married for 10, so I owe Zambia a great debt for a wonderful childhood, fantastic memories and now, my happiness.

Tiyende Pamodzi…

Your 50 Zambian years means I am 50 years older.

I was at school when you became independent

but your Independence triggered my own at 14.

Not wanting to repeat a year I had just finished,

I refused and found myself a job, instead. My

idyllic childhood safe in Mother Africa’s arms

meant we learnt young to be strong, resilient

finding our own way through the jungle.  Confident,

courageous and convinced of our immortality.

I blossomed in your sunshine and freedoms.

As pioneers we knew we could turn our hands

to whatever was required to get the job done.

And we did.  During the struggles, shortages

were a given but ever resourceful we shared,

surviving together.  The best lesson for life.

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014

#FrancesMacaulayForde   #Zambia50th    #POEM:Tiyende Pamodzi  #Africa  #Zambia  #NorthernRhodesia  #Poems  #Independence  #Freedom

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‘Searching for Sugarman’

QUOTE:  “Rodriguez was the greatest ’70s US rock icon who never was. Momentarily hailed as the finest recording artist of his generation, he disappeared into oblivion – rising again from the ashes in a completely different context a continent away.”  SBS Television will show the much-lauded documentary on Sunday night at 8.30pm.

I grew up in Northern Rhodesia, now Zambia and recognized a song in this documentary from my youth.   My husband was born in Durban, South Africa and played professionally in bands for many years in SA and Zambia.  He also recognized Rodriguez and his songs from Cape Town university days when the lyrics were a national anthem for youth in a rapidly changing South Africa, swamped in “Apartheid”.

QUOTE:  “In the mid-1970s, Rodriguez’s music gained airplay in Australia and New Zealand and he toured here finding limited success in the late 70s, returning in 1981 when Midnight Oil joined him for some shows.”   It’s been announced he’ll be  touring Australia  this year.

The Oscar-winning documentary “Searching for Sugarman” is beautifully made with great respect and admiration for the undeniable talent of  Sixto Rodriguez – an homage to a counter-culture hero they thought had killed himself on stage.   It has many lessons…

Here’s the YouTube link to the full video with subtitles:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xg60JmFhTMs&list=RDXg60JmFhTMs#t=8 

 

#francesmacaulayforde  #sugarman  #Rodriguez   #recordingartist  #southafrica  #apartheid  #rockicon  #northernrhodesia  #zambia

 

 

 

 

 

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Mwambeshi Memories

As I’ve mentioned before, although born in Northumberland, I grew up in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia) in the 50’s and 60’s.  I was privileged to have had a protected, idyllic, worry-free childhood.

My Mum & Big Brother on the farm in Garneton… 1960’s

Mwambeshi Memories

Days gone by when safety wasn’t an issue, I remember a little stream that beckoned a group of friends in Garneton.  How many times did we saunter – some on bikes – some walking, along the dirt track under the power lines with the warm sun tingling on our shoulders?

I don’t remember being fashion-conscious only comfortable cotton in the hot sun.  I don’t remember being boy-conscious (that came later).  I just remember loving the escape from home, the walk through the bush, the baking sun and cool, crystal clear water as it hit hot skin.

We laughed a lot; we talked endlessly and carried our innocence and open hearts on our sleeves.  God – I miss those days!

How many competitions did we have?  Shoes off, stripped down to cossies, we’d race over the hot beige sand and stones burning our feet, to the other side of the bridge. 

The bravest would dive into the swiftly running current, going deep, eyes open, avoiding the banks to stay under as long as possible.  The current would propel us under the bridge until the air threatened to burst our lungs, spewing water when your head broke the surface. 

We’d look around to see who had won. Who had stayed under the water the longest and let the current take them the furthest away from the bridge?

We always sat on the Garneton side, a natural pool which opened up to allow swimming and splashing in comfort.  The Marlow’s farm was on the other side of the bridge and further upstream we could hear the cows every now and then. 

Later, I remember a story that a crocodile had taken one of the cows from the bank.  That croc lived in our Mwambeshi – the stream we swam in every day we could!  I don’t remember swimming there much after that.

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014

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Jesamine, Equals and Rolling Stones.

‘Sleepy’ Perth has been awoken by the presence of the mighty Rolling Stones although sadly their first Australian concert for many years has to be postponed.

My heart goes out to Mick and all who loved and knew his best friend, L’Wren Scott.

While the band members deal with the change in plans, they’ve been forced to keep their tongue logo parked on the tarmac at Perth Airport.

Last night, drummer Charlie Watts found an outlet for his musical talents at one of our best known secrets; the Ellington Jazz Club.

I’ve very sure the capacity crowd of 135 will dine out on their impromptu concert for many years to come.

My niece Aimee has long been a fan of the club and although many of the family have enjoyed the Jazz, we’ve not got there yet.

Muther’s Convention playing in Zambia, 1971 – Hubby on the left.

So ex-musician hubby and I were discussing our misfortune in not choosing to go, when he told me about his two claims to fame; acting as local tour guides and helping ferry instruments etc when ‘The Casuals’ visited Zambia in about 1971 and his band ‘Muther’s Convention’ playing as support for ‘The Equals’ on their Zambian tour a year later.

I didn’t recognize the names immediately so good old Google came to the rescue and ‘Voila!’  I’m instantly transported with the sound of one of my all-time favorite songs “Jesamine”  by the Casuals.

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“The Grass is Singing…”

Recently Doris Lessing died at the ripe old age of 94 with more than 50 books to her name and 3 children, 2 of whom she abandoned to achieve her career dreams. So I find it interesting that she was later known for her humanitarian efforts – is it just me or is there something wrong with that picture?

Oh –  she also won a Nobel Prize for Literature at the age of 88 (oldest recipient) for her life’s work.

“The Grass Is Singing” was her first publication in the 1950’s, at the time a shocking story of life in Southern Rhodesia – now Zimbabwe.  That country banned her for 25 years but recently welcomed her with open arms.

I remember reading the story in the 60’s when I lived over the border, in Northern Rhodesia and being impressed with the characterizations  and ‘reality’ she managed to capture and share.

And now I find out she was a poet, as well!

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Animals Are Beautiful People

1960’s Coronation Square, Kitwe. (Photo: David Howell)

Someone posted a clip on Facebook and it took me straight back to my youth in Central Africa:  We flew from UK to Lusaka (Capital) in 1955 but moved up to the thriving metropolis of Kitwe on the Copperbelt in 1961, when I was eleven.

1960’s – We had many a delish dinner at the swish Edinburgh Hotel! (Photo: David Howell)

Early 1960’s – I remember buying my mum a broach for 2/6 pence at OK Bazaars – loved all the tacky glitter. (Photo: David Howell)

1960’S – My Mum in a striped dress crossing the street to the VW and my Dad waiting for her, in the driver’s seat. They always held hands, too… (Photo: David Howell)

The clip: Look what happens to those who gorge on the Marula Fruit.

Jamie Uys made many heart-warming and clever films about his beloved home and nature.

My favorite of all time was “The Gods Must Be Crazy”  a gentle story about a coke bottle left in the desert.  A local man decides it must have fallen out of the sky and decides the Gods need their bottle back.  He tries his very best to return it.  The film illustrates the Africa I grew up in, so beautifully.

Many clips can be found on You Tube to enjoy… this one is very funny – perfect comic timing.

(My grateful thanks to the photographer for these un-credited photos found on the net although I suspect they were taken by David Howell, mostly on a now- defunct website “The Great North Road”  showing one of my African poems.)

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