I grew up in Northern Rhodesia/Zambia, so Judith Duffy’s article on Zambia brought memories of a “colonial” childhood flooding back (Cry freedom: How Northern Rhodesia became Zambia, Oct 24).
In 1956, my parents decided to emigrate to Northern Rhodesia. My father, an English teacher in Blairgowrie, was keen to experience Africa and took up a post as head of the English department at Munali Secondary School near Lusaka.
As a five-year-old this was a huge adventure for me, who until then thought the Davie Park in Blair was heaven. I have hazy memories of the voyage to Cape Town and our train journey north to Lusaka, which took a number of days.
Munali school where Dad taught was at that time the only secondary school for black students in Northern Rhodesia.
A boarding school for 400 boys. He remained proud that he had taught and encouraged many Zambian students to pursue their ambitions at a time when this was often frowned upon by other members of the colonial community.
Some of his students went on to have distinguished careers in politics, medicine and education. My Dad would often recall that he had taught most of the Cabinet ministers in the first Zambian government. He also assisted many in gaining places at Scottish universities. Joseph Kasonde arrived in Aberdeen in 1963 to study medicine. He became a regular and welcome guest of both my grandparents. After graduation he returned to Zambia and over time became the senior physician in the newly independent country as well as serving as an adviser to the World Health Organisation.
As independence approached, many “whites” left the country. We, fortunately, stayed and Dad was asked to become senior inspector of schools with the aim of training and developing inspectors, some of whom he taught.
Kenneth Kaunda, who was taught at a Scottish mission school, had a great love for the Scots. I met him on a number of occasions as he was a regular visitor to the school in the pre-independence days. A big man in every sense, he was always kind and generous. The peaceful transition of power was his stated aim and he achieved that.
Living on campus, most of my friends were the children of teachers at the school. As a group we were largely resented by many other white kids because of our parents’ association with the African communities. Consequently many of my pals were local black kids. I remember the pride I felt during the 1970 Commonwealth Games in Edinburgh when a close friend, Benson Mulomba, was competing for Zambia in the 800 metres. Although he didn’t qualify for the final, he and some of his team mates insisted that I join them in the Games Village for a meal before taking them on a quick tour of Edinburgh.
In 1969 the family returned to Scotland, where my father undertook a Masters in linguistics and applied phonetics before joining the British Council as an English language adviser to the government of Ghana, one of the first African colonies to throw off the mantle of colonialism.
On reflection I feel privileged to have grown up in Zambia at a time when the “winds of change” were developing into a storm. Thank you for the article, which I enjoyed, and I’m off to dig out some of the photos and enjoy some reminiscence therapy!
I feel we are entering a similar period in Scottish history and only hope that, like Zambia, we are able to achieve independence peacefully.
Source: The National