Robin and Marian didn’t just meet Will and Bonkers the next day for a couple of beers - they met almost every day after their first encounter. They managed to do a good deal of sightseeing as well, in Robin’s hired car, and found time to visit most of the popular tourist attractions in and around Nairobi.
One day, on the drive back from the Ngong Hills, Marian said, “Do you realise, Robin, that we are due to move on in a couple of weeks?”
“To Livingstone?” asked Bonkers.
“We shall go via Lusaka,” replied Robin. “We thought we’d have a couple of days there, just to look round and perhaps visit Kariba.”
“And how will you get there?” asked Will. “By air, I suppose.”
“We shall certainly fly to Lusaka,” replied Marian. “Then we shall fly on to Harare, where an old friend of Robin’s father lives at the moment, and we have been invited to pay him a visit. After that, we had thought we’d go on to Bulawayo by train, and on from there to the falls - there’s an overnight service every day, I believe. But we shall probably end up flying direct from Harare to Livingstone, as it’s such a short flight, and we shall save time.”
“You wouldn’t see much from the overnight trains, anyway,” said Will. “What would be good, is if we could meet you somewhere and show you a bit of Zimbabwe. Believe it or not, I’ve got a car down there we could use - my father left his old Volvo specially, in case I ever needed it.”
“The trouble is,” said Bonkers, “we wouldn’t be able to afford the air fares at the moment. We’d need to hitch-hike, or go by bus, and that would take for ever.”
“It would certainly be a lovely idea if we could meet up again somewhere on our travels,” agreed Robin. “Do you need to stay here any longer?” he asked.
“Not really,” said Will. “We’ve almost come to the conclusion that we’re on ‘mission impossible’. I can’t see any way at the moment to get at Mawimbi’s cash, given that you can’t crack the computer system.”
“You were our only hope of doing anything worthwhile, really,” added Bonkers.
“What about the contacts you said you had within the banks and the civil service?” asked Marian. “Can’t they be of any help?”
“Not really,” said Will again. “As I said before, they’re just a few chaps we know.”
“Oh,” said Robin. “From what you said, we had thought it was a bit more organised than that.”
Bonkers turned to his friend. “Will, I think we know these two good people well enough now to be able to trust them. I’m sure if they could help us, they would. Why don’t you tell them?”
Will thought for a moment, looking closely at both Robin and Marian.
“Very well, then,” replied Will with a nod towards Bonkers. He turned to Robin and Marian. “None of this must go any further, but if you give us your solemn word that you will treat what we tell you in total confidence, then I will let you in on the background to a small but highly motivated organisation which has been formed.”
“You can trust us,” replied Marian.
“You have our word for that,” confirmed Robin.
Will paused to gather his thoughts.
“Our network of contacts is loosely drawn, but widely spread,” he began. “A few here, a couple in Zambia and South Africa, but mostly in Zimbabwe. Like us, they are all totally opposed to what is happening in that country, and have sworn to take action if, at any time, something worthwhile presents itself.”
“Do you mean organising a coup, or something like that?” asked Robin.
“No, nothing quite like that, although they would all be heartily glad to see the back of the present regime,” continued Will. “But we are not a military organisation, although we do have a good spread of individuals who provide an excellent intelligence service. We either know, or can find out, exactly what’s going on within the Government and official organisations like the civil service and the military, as well as major businesses like the banks. We have contacts in all those places. There are a few in the President’ office and in the offices of other Ministries, some in quite senior positions. They risk a lot, but are fantastic sources of information about what’s going on, both officially and in the private lives of top people. One works in the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe, our equivalent of the Bank of England, and is in quite a senior management job. Among other things, he has contacts with the International Monetary Fund and our own Finance Ministry, where we also have a well-placed contact. That’s why we were hoping that, with your skills and our knowledge, we might just be able to right a few wrongs.”
“How do you keep in touch with them all?” asked Marian.
“We don’t, on a regular basis,” replied Will. “There’s nothing formal about our structure at all, but we all know who is with us and who isn’t, and we can make contact when we need to. I don’t know, for instance, if there’s a member in the railways, but I could ask around to find out, and if there was, contact him direct.”
“In fact, there are certainly many more members than we know about,” said Bonkers.
“The simple fact is that it’s the ‘old boy network’ with a vengeance,” said Will.
“For instance,” said Bonkers. “If you had been able to get into the banking system, we would have been able to find out the account details of all the major beneficiaries of the redistribution of the land stolen from the white farmers. We could then have taken the money back, and returned it to the people who have suffered so much - like Will’s parents.”
“How could you have possibly got all that money to each of the thousands of farmers who have had their land seized?” asked Marian.
“Quite easily, really,” replied Will. “There’s an organisation called Justice for Farmers, which is a lobby group acting on behalf of all the white farmers in Zimbabwe, but specially those who have been evicted.”
“All those who have survived,” interrupted Bonkers.
“Quite so,” agreed Will. “Many were tortured and killed by the so-called ‘war veterans’, but Justice for Farmers has details of all the others who survived, and the next-of-kin of those who didn’t - where they are, how much compensation they should have been paid, and everything else.”
“Is this Justice for Farmers organisation part of your network?” asked Marian.
“No, it isn’t. So far as I know, they have no idea we exist. We haven’t even given ourselves a name, like they have, because we are a small enough group to know virtually everyone in the network personally, so we don’t need a name,” explained Will.
“But if we ever needed to contact any of the farmers, they would be able to put us in touch,” added Bonkers.
They were approaching the up-market suburb of Karen, and decided to visit the Butterfly Centre while they were in the area. “What actually does Justice for Farmers do?” asked Marian, as they sat over a coffee in the small outside restaurant after their tour round.
“I don’t think it achieves much at all,” replied Will. “It tries to lobby various organisations, including the Government, either to get the farms back or get proper compensation for the deposed farmers, which is a bit like trying to push water up-hill with a fork, as you can imagine. But it does provide a sense of community for them all, and they like to think that at least someone is trying to help them.”
“I just wish we could,” said Bonkers, not for the first time.
“Even my father is a member, in spite of being in South Africa,” continued Will. “And he’s by no means as badly off as some of them, especially the black workers who were evicted from the farms at the time they were taken over. They had nothing, and nowhere to go.”
“Most of the people I was at school with in Chasimu now have no work, and are going hungry, with no land or proper homes,” added Bonkers.
“If only we could get to Zimbabwe while you’re there,” said Will, “we could show you around so that you could see for yourself the state of the country. Visiting the tourist bits will give you no real idea of what it’s like.”
“We really should get back home soon, anyway,” said Bonkers. “There’s nothing else we can do here, and the sooner we start out the sooner we shall get there. You know how long it took us to get here.”
The foursome agreed to meet again the next evening, after Robin had given his final lecture at the Technical College.
But as soon as they had parted after their day out, Robin turned to Marian and announced, “I’m going to use the card.”
“Why?” asked Marian, astonished.
“So that they can fly home - at Dickson Mawimbi’s expense. His wife goes to the bank every Thursday, and that’s tomorrow. So if we follow her to the cash machine, we can take out the maximum allowed and give it to Will. We can do the same next week, and then they’ll have enough for the airfare - it’s only about $309, I think.”
“What a great idea!” agreed Marian. “And I’m sure we can trust them. After all, they’ve told us about their little organisation.”
“It will be really satisfying to give them some of their own money back,” said Robin, “and good to have their company in Zimbabwe, as well.”
“I hope Mawimbi’s wife doesn’t go shopping too early,” said Marian. “I would hate to miss her.”
“She won’t be late - the banks open at nine and close at two-thirty. I’ll ring Will straight away, to arrange an early rendezvous, but not tell him exactly why.”
Will was surprised at the sudden change of plans, but asked no questions. Robin explained everything to him when they met the next morning, as they were heading for the Standard Chartered Bank. Will was astonished and delighted to think that, at last, he might be able to take back some of the Ambassador’s ill gotten wealth.
“It will be simply great to be able to keep up with you on your travels,” he told Robin, “but I shall feel a bit guilty about spending the money on our tickets, rather than returning it to my father.”
“I told you he was a genius with computers, didn’t I,” commented Bonkers. “What a brilliant piece of work, Robin.”
“Let’s hope it works as well in Kenya as it does in England,” replied Robin. “I can think of no real reason why it shouldn’t.”
It did. Will pointed out Mawimbi’s wife, as she headed for the cash point, and Robin managed to stand behind her at the machine while she took out her money. As she left, intent on putting the cash into her purse, Robin put his doctored card into the machine, and from the menu that appeared, selected to take out the maximum sum permitted. He retrieved his card, and handed the wad of notes to Will.
“There,” he said triumphantly. “Direct from the lady’s account! We’ll do the same again next week, and that should give you enough for your tickets. But remember, not a single word or hint to anyone.”
Bonkers had the widest possible grin on his face as Will took the money in disbelief.
“Now we must dash,” said Robin, “or I’ll be late for my lecture. See you again this evening, as planned.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Bonkers. “I wouldn’t miss your lecture for the world.”
“Drinks on me tonight,” said Will, as they parted.
***
They had agreed to meet in the foyer of the Royal Livingstone Hotel in six days time. Will and Bonkers, having bought their air tickets courtesy of Dickson Mawimbi, flew to Harare, from where they would be able to get to their old village of Chasimu so that Will could collect his father’s car from Kipling Bangura. Robin and Marian, meanwhile, flew to Lusaka, where they booked in to a small hotel that Will had recommended. They phoned the Hood’s old friends, the Bowmans, and made plans to fly on to Harare after their short visit to Zambia.
They were made very welcome by the Bowmans, who insisted on putting them up in their house in the embassy compound, and entertained them royally. Their visit included a weekend, so Charles and Sally were able to show them something of the city itself. Charles was interested to hear about their time in Nairobi, and how they had befriended the two lads from Zimbabwe, who they were due to meet again in a few days.
“You’ll really love it at the Victoria Falls,” said Sally. “We didn’t stay at the Royal Livingstone when we went, but we did have a good look round, and it really looks very luxurious. I envy you!”
“It’s our big treat during our tour round,” said Marian. “We don’t normally live like that, I can assure you, but we felt we deserved to spoil ourselves a bit after the hard work of Oxford. Otherwise, we are back-packing like everyone else of our age.”
The couple had told Charles and Sally about the two boys they had befriended, and their fate of at the hands of the war veterans.
“We feel so sad that we can’t help in any way,” said Robin. “But it really does seem to be a pretty desperate situation.”
“It is indeed,” agreed Charles. “Neighbouring countries have already been putting pressure on the UK to ‘do something’, but the regime itself already blames Britain for interfering and causing the present situation. As you say, there doesn’t seem much that we can do at the moment. But your young friend needs to be particularly careful going in and out of the country, especially if he is trying to take cash from his fathers’ account and get it in to South Africa.”
“I think he realises the dangers,” replied Robin. “My understanding is that he is withdrawing cash in small amounts while outside Zimbabwe, changing it into US dollars, and mailing it to his father. I’m sure he knows the dangers of trying to get cash through one of the customs posts.”
“If I could, I would offer the services of the diplomatic bags, but that would be equally foolish,” said Charles. “The big problem he faces is that the currency is virtually worthless to anyone outside the country, and with inflation as high as it is, becoming worth less and less every day. Some of the currency, like bearer cheques for 20,000 Zimbabwean dollars, for example, have ‘use by’ dates printed on them - and they’re only worth about £1 anyway!”
“It will be very interesting to see something of the country, though,” said Marian. “We’ve heard so many dreadful things about it, but it will be much better having a couple of Zimbabweans as escorts and guides.”
“One of them, the son of the white farmer, has his father’s old car tucked away somewhere, and has agreed to motor down to meet us at the hotel in a couple of days.”
“If he can get the petrol,” commented the Defence Attache. “There are great shortages of fuel, and long queues at the filling stations.”
“He is so keen, though, to show us how the country has been ruined by the present regime,” said Robin.
“Well, said Charles Bowman, “if you see anything really interesting, let me know! I’m in the business of collecting useful information, if you see what I mean.”
“Now, Charles,” scolded Sally, “you really can’t expect these two young people to go spying for you - they’re on holiday.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” said Robin.
“Where will you go next, after Livingstone and your visit to Bulawayo?” asked Charles.
“No real plans, at the moment,” replied Robin, “but we shall probably head south. It would be nice to see the Cape while we’re so close - relatively speaking, that is!”
“Well, whatever you do, try to keep in touch anyway, while you’re in Africa,” said Charles Bowman, “and let me know if I can be of any help with your itinerary.”
“And do give your parents our very best wishes next time you speak to them,” insisted Sally. “I shall write to them soon, to tell them all about your visit.”
Charles drove them to the airport for their short flight to Livingstone, and they arrived at their hotel on time and as planned. Their first view of the mighty falls from the aircraft was simply breathtaking, and they couldn’t wait to dump their bags before walking down the footpath from the hotel, which gave direct access, passing a herd of grazing Zebra on the way.
The hotel was crowded with tourists of all nationalities, and there was an excited buzz about the whole place. Robin and Marian took time to study the local maps and guides over a drink before dinner, eager to plan their next few days. They had set aside a special budget for this, as it was to be the highlight of their tour, and they wanted to make sure they made the most of it and spent it wisely. In the end, they decided on one of the guided tours of Victoria Falls that included a walk through the rain forest at the foot of the falls, as well a ‘look over the edge’ from the eastern cataract. They also elected to take a tour of the Chobe National Park, about 50 miles away, said to be one of the most prolific wildlife areas in Africa, and to spend a night at the Safari Lodge.
“We must make sure we’re back here in time to meet Will and Bonkers,” Marian reminded Robin.
“I’ll give them a ring to see how they’re getting on,” said Robin.
“I think our time with them is going to be a great contrast to our stay here,” said Marian. “I have a feeling that it might not be entirely enjoyable, either.”
“We’ll see,” said Robin. “But it will most certainly be different. We must make sure we make the most of these few days.”
Will and Bonkers had found their way back to their old home without any great difficulty, and Kipling Bangura had the car all ready for them when they arrived at his garage. Very sensibly, he had kept the tank full of petrol, and had even put a spare jerry can in the boot, which they could fill up across the border.
“Business has not been good since you left, young master Bartlett,” he had told Will. “There has been a great shortage of petrol and of money, and there is little farming being done these days. I have hardly had anything to mend with the welding torch either. I sometimes wonder how much longer I can survive here.”
Will paid him handsomely for the petrol, and the rental for storing the car and keeping it in working condition.
“I shall bring the car back to you, Kipling,” he had said, “once I have taken some friends for a tour round to see what has happened to our country. Will the car still be safe with you?”
“I shall take good care of it,” Mr. Bangura assured him. “And if anything happens to me or I decide to go away, I shall make sure that friends in our little group - you know who I mean? - I shall make sure they let you know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bangura.”
“Where will you go next, after your visit to Livingstone?” asked the garage owner.
“I have no plans at the moment,” replied Will. “Mr. Mbele and I may well stay around here for a time. We will let you know.”
Kipling nodded.
“Tell me,” enquired Will, “would it be safe, in your view, to visit the old farm?”
“It’s many months since I passed that way,” replied the mechanic. “You will find it a sad thing to do, I must warn you. If you should decide to go, it would be better not to stop - there are still plenty of war veterans hanging about. They have nothing to do, as they know nothing of farming.”
Will and Bonkers left Chasimu, and drove off towards the border, eagerly looking forward to meeting their new friends again, but scarcely believing the state of the countryside they drove through.
“Our two friends will hardly believe this,” commented Bonkers.
The quartet eventually met up again as planned, and the two Zimbabweans dashed off down the path for a quick look at the falls from the Zambian side of the Zambezi. Before setting off on their drive north, Will found a petrol station and filled the jerry can he had brought with him.
“Difficult to get this stuff, over the border,” he announced.
“And expensive,” added Bonkers.
“You will find a huge contrast between the other parts of Africa you have visited, and the part you are soon to visit,” said Will.
“Especially after the luxury of this place,” added Bonkers.
“Well, you two sit here and enjoy a bit of that luxury for a minute or two if you don’t mind, while Marian and I go and finish packing. Order what you like from the bar, have a snack or whatever you want, and put it on my bill.”
“We shan’t be long,” Marian assured them. “We’ve bought a few presents for home, but not a lot.”
“There’s a limit to how many African carvings you can put on a mantelpiece!” joked Robin.
Eventually, the four of them walked across the border into Zimbabwe, from where, it had to be said, the views were far more spectacular. The old Edwardian-era Victoria Falls Hotel, however, was looking decidedly down-at-heel and empty. A few years before, this handsome town would have been bustling with tourists, but now they mostly opted instead for the Zambian side of the Zambezi River. Only the President, surrounded by a handful of his cronies, still insisted on taking his holidays there, sitting on the veranda drinking tea from china cups, in splendid isolation. Safari parks and game reserves throughout the country were similarly empty of visitors, and the beautiful country, which had once earned millions from overseas visitors, was now virtually expunged from the tourist map.
They soon found the old Volvo, where Will had left it. As they set off towards Bulawayo, Will told the couple that he had arranged bed and breakfast accommodation for all four of them in a quite reasonable and respectable hotel near the centre of town.
“You will be surprised and saddened by what you see on this journey,” commented Bonkers.
“All we’ve seen of the country so far,” said Marian, “is a bit of down-town Harare, and that wasn’t very impressive, either.”
“You could get an impression of what it used to be like, but apart from one or two of the more affluent suburbs, it all looked a bit run down, to be honest,” added Robin.
“You will soon get a better idea of just how run-down this country has become,” promised Will, as they negotiated their way out of Livingstone.
The first thing that struck them as they headed into the country was the state of the people themselves. For a start, there were countless small children, wearing ragged clothes, and looking tired and emaciated. Most of them looked happy enough, as they played at the side of the dirt roads, but most of them were also plainly sick.
“They are the victims of Aids,” explained Will. “Many of them are orphans, looked after by aunts and uncles since their parents have died of the disease, and nearly all of the children also have it - they will not live for long. Come back in a year’s time, and all you will see of these children is their graves.”
Marian had her hand to her mouth as she watched in wide-eyed disbelief.
“But what about drugs?” she asked. “There are perfectly good retroviral drugs that can be used to help these people.”
“There is no money for them,” explained Bonkers.
“But there is international aid available, surely?” said Will. “And what about the charities - Save the Children Fund and things like that? I know Aids is rampant throughout Africa, but it can’t all be as bad as this, surely?”
“Other African countries get about twenty times the foreign medical aid that we get, so I read somewhere,” said Will. “The reason we get so little is that the funds that should have been spent on aid projects are creamed off by Ministers and corrupt officials. That’s what happened to the UK grants for land redistribution. Added to which, most of our own skilled professionals and key medical staff fled the country years ago.”
“There are about a million orphans like this, and they mostly live in the rural areas, where there is now little or no work,” said Bonkers. “The average life expectancy in this country is 33 years, where it was once 63. That doesn’t give me long to go.”
Will and Marian were speechless with disbelief. As they drove on, evidence of the disaster that had overtaken the country became more and more obvious, and was to be seen everywhere. They passed countless cars without fuel, abandoned at the roadside. They had mostly been looted of anything that could be sold or used - many families were using old car seats as furniture outside their derelict shanty buildings. Some filling stations had two-mile long unmoving queues at the pumps, vainly waiting in case of a delivery, which they also hoped they would then be able to afford to buy when it arrived.
They saw broken down trains idle in overgrown sidings, and pitifully thin families waiting at the roadside and at stations for buses and trains that no longer ran. The few shops that were open all had empty shelves and little to sell.
Almost every field they passed was choked with weeds - there was little evidence anymore of a thriving agriculture that, only a few years before, had earned the country the title of ‘breadbasket of Africa’. What once used to be some of the most productive and well-run farms in the world were now reverting to the bush from which their previous white farmer owners had created them.
As they drove on, through fallow fields overgrown with grass, weeds and thorny scrub, Will and Bonkers would occasionally point out a farm of particular interest. “See that orchard of dead citrus trees? The chap who ran that used to export top quality fruit to Harrods, among other outlets like that.” They passed an area where scores of greenhouse frames stood, stripped of their glass and plastic roofs. “He used to export millions of roses each year. The big house on the hill where he used to live is now ‘owned’ by the head of the Army.” Everywhere, fences and trees had been chopped down for fuel, and even telephone poles and their wires had been looted.
“At this time of the year, we should see maize in these fields about two feet high, and tractors fertilising the land,” said Will. But nobody had planted. The few people left on the land had been provided with no seed, and had no equipment. In any case, the irrigation system had long gone. The only sign of life was a man leading two donkeys, pulling a plough across the dusty land. “Over there,” said Bonkers, pointing, “used to be one of the top cattle farms in this part of the country.” There was not an animal to be seen anywhere.
Outside one village, they passed the silos of the Grain Marketing Board. “Not so long ago,” said Will, “there would have been queues of lorries there, delivering grain from outlying farms.” Today, there was only one truck, and a queue of women trying to get food. “They say that the only grain in most of these silos these days has been imported from South Africa,” said Bonkers.
It was the same everywhere. Cotton farms with no cotton, tobacco plantations with weedy crops that would be difficult to sell, let alone contribute substantially to the country’s economy as they used.
“But where are all the people?” asked Marian.
“About 70% of the country’s workforce has fled to neighbouring countries,” replied Will. “Like me and my father.”
“But what about the ‘war veterans’?” asked Robin. “Where are they?”
“They’ve gone, too,” replied Will. “Most of them, and the black settlers who were bussed in to take over the farms, have now been moved out themselves, to make way for Government supporters who have been given the houses.”
“And those who are left know nothing about farming,” added Bonkers. “They have no money to buy machinery or seeds anyway, so they are scratching a living for themselves as best they can, but they are not capable of running the farms as they used to be run.”
“None of this was really about land reform at all,” added Will. “White-owned land hasn’t been returned to its ‘rightful’ black owners, which was the stated object of the exercise. The farms have been given to friends and families, to buy continued political support in a bankrupt country. At first, the Government claimed that the farm seizures would boost production, benefit millions of blacks, and create a new class of black commercial farmer. But the new landowners managed to grow crops on less than half their land, and they were told that, unless they got their act together, the Government would redistribute the land not being used. Some people tried to make a go of it,” he continued “but the problem was that the land they were ‘given’ was formally owned by the Government, so they had no title deeds or anything to use as collateral towards bank loans.”
“And without loans, they couldn’t buy seed or fertiliser or equipment,” added Bonkers. “Now, many of them have given up trying to produce anything at all.”
“The Government has even made half-hearted attempts to try to get the white farmers back again,” said Will. “You can just imagine the reaction!”
“What about your old farm?” asked Robin. “Have either of you been back since your father left, Will?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “We were thinking of it, but our advice has been to drive past and not stop. Apparently, the war veterans are still hanging around.”
“And I’d be recognised,” said Bonkers.
“And as it’s now his farm, that could mean trouble,” added Will. “But I’d love to have a look again, even if it will be a sad journey.”
“And perhaps a dangerous one,” guessed Bonkers.
“But we could drive out there tomorrow or some time if you two would like to,” said Will. “It might be safer with four of us.”
“Let’s do that,” said Marian. “If you really want to go, then it will certainly be better for all of us to go together.”
“Agreed, then,” said Robin. “But what we have seen today has been absolute