Counting our Blessings
As I drove into our property in Bulawayo I heard the sound of a veld fire – frightening at this time of the year when the grass is bone dry and taller than a man’s head and no fire breaks. When I was a boy growing up on a farm in the Esigodini Valley we had a fire one year which started at the head of the valley and swept down along the Mountain range to the north, burning and killing everything in its path. By law we had to respond and we loaded up the farm truck with staff, axes and pangas and wet maize bags and water (to drink) and drove the 20 kilometers to where the farmers were trying to stop the fire.
We burned back from a road and when finally, the fire was out helped survey the damage – several hundred cattle, 5 homesteads and farm buildings and several vehicles were burnt out. This time – 60 years later, the fire brigade arrived in the form of three tenders and men with special beaters and a water bowser. They made short work of the fire and have just left to return to the station.
Three weeks ago, my wife had a small stroke at a filling station in Kwe Kwe – a town in the midlands of Zimbabwe. I got her into the back of my vehicle and drove to a private clinic run by two young doctors in the middle of town. They took one look at her and got her into the clinic and the battled for 4 hours to stabilize her so that we could move her back to Harare in an ambulance. I am quite sure they saved her life. The Ambulance took her to Harare some 250 kilometers away – stopping every half an hour to check all her critical signs and to call the specialist waiting for us at the hospital. Halfway the ambulance service sent a more sophisticated vehicle with a doctor on board to take her to the Capital.
On arrival, we found the specialist waiting for her at midnight and she was taken into the hospital and was examined and treated. The ambulance staff called me every day for four days to find out if she was OK. They were fantastic. She is now at home with my daughter and recovering with few symptoms of the scare she gave me and everyone else. I was so proud of Zimbabwe at that point – I could not have expected better service anywhere in the world.
While this was happening my son, a pastor in Harare was in Michigan seeing his beloved daughter Rebekah into University to read for a degree in mathematics. She was Head Girl last year at school, took her A levels in December with the Cambridge University examinations Board and got a double A in Mathematics. She is a mature 18 year old, plays sport and has significant leadership qualities. All her school life she was a minority as a white African in her class. She is also a sincere Christian and wants to go into research or teaching. She won a 75 per cent scholarship from the University on the strength of her academic record and I am sure they will discover what we already know, she is an outstanding student.