NEW ZEALAND GIRL IN NYASALAND

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVII, Issue 23850, 28 December 1940, Page 5 (Supplement)

NEW ZEALAND GIRL IN NYASALAND

TO radio enthusiasts since the war began, names of places hitherto unknown are becoming familiar in the ears as household words. In Germany, for instance, Hamni is daily fare for—shall we say'?—our rasher raiders. The Greeks find Albania teeming with names of cities apparently harder to pronounce than to capture, We are beginning to take even Argyrokastron in our stride, though it is a relief to pass over to Africa and the mellifluous vowels of Sidi Barrani or the engaging simplicity of Solium and Bug-bug. No Sinecure Yet even Africa 11: is its difficulties. We know the,re is always a bomber at Bomba, but lioiv many descendants ot even Macaulay's schoolboy could say oflhancl where Zomba is to lie found? To relicva the tension, it may be revealed that it is a small town in Nyasaland and the headquarters of war-recruiting for the district. Some interesting sidelights upon life in tbv.se wide open spaces are given in letters from a New Zealand girl whose husband, an Imperial Army officer, was snatched from his regiment as it was on tiie point of embarking on active service from Mombasa, and sent instead to do a "job of work" in and around

By CECIL F. HULL

Zomba. But if any reader should imagine that the transfer from active service meant an ignoble life of sybaritic idleness, these letters would soon undeceive him. "He may be a 'base wallah' at the moment," she writes of her husband, "but a mud hut in a tsetse fly area with all the natives down with smallpox can hardly be called a health resort, nor could he be described as slacking in luxury." Extremely Primitive To arrive at this delectable spot the officer and his lady drove from Nairobi —I6OO miles in eight days. "The car went wonderfully well, the only casualty being a broken fan belt (and we carried a spare). The lorry which followed behind carrying heavy kit gave us a nice, secure feeling, more especially as from the time we left Nairobi until reaching the outskirts of Zomba we met only four vehicles and overtook two. Hardly congested traffic! _ The bridges were numerous and hair-raising, spindly-looking, sideless affairs, made of tree-trunks tied together. The natives carried bows and arrows, and knohkerries and wore practically no clothes. Zomba is really only the seat of Government officials. Blantyre (42 miles away) on the railway is the biggest town in Nyasaland, about the size of Ngaruawahia." The camp area where the writer and her husband have to make their home is extremely primitive, and the change

from staying in the stately comfort of Government House at Zomba to occupying a recently-built mud hut is described with rueful humour: "The hut has no door or window and the big problem is going to be. how to keep the lions and leopards out. We are told tliev are quite likely to walk in and pul! us out o! bed. |{ex (the dogl will be firmly shut up in the car every night. One settler told us that a leopard walked into her house one morning in broad daylight and grabbed a dog out of the sitting room. Another problem is how to get exercise. Everyone is horrified it we suggest going for a Walk after o p.m. because of Hons, etc.. and before that it is far too hot."

"However." she adds bravely, "I do realise I am very lucky to be near ■!. in war-time whatever discomforts and lack of space we have to put up with. ISut what a life! I say if I am not dead 1 will be jolly tough by the time we leave here. As if coping with wild animals and bacterial disease were not enough. I know our grass roof will leak in the rains (they always do for a few weeks) and then think of all the repulsive bugs and spiders which are liable to drop on us from above, and the white ants which will eat their way up into everything from below." The writer of the letter gives a spirited description, complete with drawing, of the construction of her

stovo and oven which are never built into a Xyasahind bouse: "Yesterday I made an oven by digging into an anthill that was conveniently just outside the kitchen, Our stove will be a piece of petrol tin spread over a few mud bricks. And we are getting quite good at doubling up like a Buddha in a hip bath." Music hath cluinns ev'en in darkest Africa, so a military band was sent to the district; to stimulate recruiting, "I have been in two different villages where it played and heard the recruiting officer speak to the natives. At one place we went to the chief's house, and to my horror he pulled a very emaciated-looking crested crane from the wall and gave it: to me as a present. The awful part is that I will have to keep it as long as we are in this area in case he eomes on a visit! ! "Get On With It" \ Truly, "Kngland expects —" Her I husband's difficulties over his work. I with an insufficient stall and lI.Q. IfiOO j miles away, are touched on with due re- | irnrd to the military censor-hip, but | enough is said to show that die job is ! particularly strenuous and that occasional week-ends at Government House are well deserved. The whole letter is a reminder of the j truth ol Kipling s phrase, ' Our farflung battle-line." and sliows_ that 110 I matter how remote and primitive any [ corner of the Isrit,ish Kin pi re may be. j the duty of getting on with the war I effort is being doggedly done.