A CHRISTMAS BOX AND LETTER TO SUTI MBEWE

When we returned from England in 1961 (after my father evacuated us all during the Congo Uprising for about 18 months), we went to Chingola.  Suti was employed by my parents in the role of housekeeper, and he was with them until they left to come to Australia in 1975. At that time, his role was called “House Boy”, a title which makes me cringe today.   But then, it was considered quite a senior position for a man, and in Zambia, only men were ever employed for that role, never a woman.  Zambian women stayed at home, tending babies, the food and the fire.           Home was a small house called a ‘kiah’ (pro. ky-yah) in the garden of the main ‘white’ house, it consisted of two small rooms and an even smaller bathroom to one side with a shower and a toilet.  (Do not think white tiles …. It was made of concrete and very primitive.)  There was no kitchen, cooking was done outside over a fire in the garden.

Suti was devoted to my mother, he respected my father, detested my sister, loved me, and feared my brother’s capacity for getting into trouble. He married quiet Mary, and they had one little girl, who tragically died in a bus accident.   Despite Mary living in our garden, we seldom saw her, but every Christmas, as was the Zambian tradition, there would be a celebration and a Christmas Box (gifts and money were given to your staff).  Mary and Suti would dress in their finest (often cast offs from our family) and sit on kitchen chairs in the garden, whilst my Mom and Dad waited on them. Suti was a non-drinker, but Mary more than made up for it, drinking legendary quantities of alcohol.  (I remember once my Dad having a Christmas Box party for his staff at work, and he filled a 44 gallon drum with Chibuku beer, and each man was given a length of hose pipe to use as a straw to drink from it.)

Suti was hard working, loyal, thoroughly reliable, a man of few words.   He was often sullen, especially with my sister, who I thought treated him disrespectfully, and he responded with disdain.  Once, he got sick, and lost lots of weight, refusing to eat, my mother would tempt him with food, which he refused.   He also refused to see the ‘white doctor’ or to take any medication my mother wanted him to have.  One day, he stood at the door, and said simply “I am going home to my village to die.”  My mother pleaded and wept to no avail, and he left.  Our household stopped running in the efficient way it had done (both parents worked.) We hired another ‘house boy’ who just didn’t fill Suti’s shoes.   My mother was desolate, even Suti’s sullenness was missed.  About three months later, he turned up at the back door and told my mother “I did not die.  I am back for work.”  The unfortunate new ‘house boy’ was dismissed and Suti assumed his rightful role running the household again.  I cannot remember what he was paid, but when Gerald and I married in Lusaka we paid Alison, our ‘house boy’ Kwacha 30 a month, plus housing and a bag of mealie meal each month.  A pittance.

 When I married and moved to Lusaka, and my parents moved to Kitwe, he and Mary went with them.  When I left for Australia, it was difficult for me to have him understand how far away it was, and that I would go on a big boat.   The only boat that Suti had ever seen was a canoe, and I tried to explain this was a VERY VERY big canoe, with hotels and houses on board, and he shook his head, cracking a smile, thinking I was making a joke for him. My parents had a brick house built for him in Chipata, his village, which was a real status symbol, and provided him with a healthy sum of money in a bank account at the post office.

This letter was written eleven years after I left Zambia, and I was able to send money via family friends, the Solanki Family, in Zambia.  (Peter and Tara Solanki also came to Australia about the same time we did, but they had many relatives there with several stores.)   I never heard from Suti, either the year before when I sent money, or to this letter.   He may not ever have gotten the money or the letter, he could not read, a letter (if it arrived) from overseas arriving in a tiny village in the bush would be ‘big news’, he  would have to rely on an interpreter, who could tell him anything, who could impersonate him and collect the money, and Suti would never have known.

I am sure he must be dead now. He looked like a very old man to me in 1970 but I’ll guess he was probably about 30 – 35, and the lifespan of African villagers was not a long one.  Whatever happened to you, Suti, and wherever you are now - I hope with your ancestral spirits - that you know how grateful I was, and am, for all you did for our family, for such a long time.

Infinite love and gratitude.

“Juliana’s”

3 Redleaf Avenue

WAHROONGA, 2076

New South Wales,

Australia.

22nd November, 1985.

Dear Suti,

I hope that you are keeping very healthy and strong, and that you are still living in your house in Chipata.  Are you keeping happy?  And how is Mary?   Do you still work or are you a Mdala Man now?

We here in Australia are very happy and healthy.   My son, his name is Joshua, is very handsome and very clever, and he is nine years old.   I have a shop now, where I sell special presents to ladies, and special pretty things for babies.   Bwana Gerald still works for the same company, I.B.M., and is now quite a Big Bwana there.

Bwana Tom is still working, but he will retire from working next year when he is 65 years old.  He is still very big and strong, Bwana Tembo was his name in Chingola – do you remember?!!

Donna Vera is also well and happy, she has her mother living with her, who is very old, 85 years old, and she takes very good care of her. Picannin Bwana Ian is 29 years old now, and married, and has a very good job, he works with computers.  Donna Susan still lives in South Africa, in Johannesburg, and her son, Mark, is 21 years old now, and is a man.

We have a nice big house I Australia, and I still sometimes think it would be very nice for Suti to live close by to us. Australia is a very nice place to live, and we have many friends, and a happy life.  Joshua goes to a school close to our house, and he likes to play cricket and football, and also likes to swim very much.

I am writing you this letter to send you some money for your Christmas Box. We sent you some money last year, but you did not write to tell us that you received it.  Maybe it was stolen?   If you take this letter with you and go to:

MAHESH SOLANKI

CHIPASA STORES                              TAKE THIS LETTER AND YOUR STOEPA

CHINGOLA.

Give him this letter, so that he knows you are not a robber – and he will give you K110 which is a present from Picannin Bwana Ian, Bwana Tom and Donna Vera, Picannin Donna Sandra.  (We will send the money to Mr. Solanki.) YOU MUST TAKE THIS LETTER WITH YOU so that he knows who you are.

We all want to say THANK YOU TO SUTI for taking care of us for many years in Chingola, and to wish you Happy Christmas.   I remember Chingola and Suti very much and hope you are strong and well.

May God Bless you and Mary and your family.   We thank you.

With best wishes and kind regards to you,

 SANDRA GROOM (nee GUTHRIE)