That was the joke from my housemate M which when you think about that – isn’t funny at all.. men, especially successful, rich men, having more than one family is very common. Initially I was quite annoyed at how these men shamelessly wooing young unmarried ladies despite having 3, 4, 5 children. I personally had a few encounters with them which puzzled me a lot – we could talk about how many children he had just 1 second before he invited me for an overnight trip at the lake. I really didn’t understand this logic – so in the end I couldn’t resist asking ‘are you sure you don’t have to get permission from your wife for going out with a girl?’ guess what’s the response..?? Laugh! Very loudly! I mean it was not to shield his embarrassment at attempting extra-marital affairs –but that HEY YOU MUST BE KIDDINGME! kind of laugh!! As if this question was so ridiculous!
It was not until very recently that I gained understanding about this ‘logic’ – this is a socially accepted practice when successful men should spread his ‘wealth’ (a concept I will need another piece of writing to explain it.. this isn’t as simple as the ‘wealth’ we interpret in the western context). By practising polygamy, he is seen as doing good for the society as he’s not selfish to share his ‘wealth’. And girls, on the other hand, appreciate this goodness and therefore no reason to reject such kindness. People actually dislike rich men who don’t ‘share’ therefore whatever I encountered so far is merely a way of ‘expressing goodwill’. Ah – now I understand how UNGRATEFUL I am!!
However don’t worry about my safety here as these men aren’t ‘dangerous’ – they’re merely trying their luck out on a mzungu girl. Mzungu girls are generally more difficult to court and you need more money and social status to be successful (and therefore having to receive so many ‘invitations’ doesn’t mean I am particularly attractive – it’s merely my identity as a ‘mzungu’) therefore if you have a mzungu girlfriend you must be a very successful guy. Malawians are very polite and that’s what I like about them. Some people (non-Malawian Africans) say they’re too reserved and I think this actually is very good for doing my fieldwork here. People do not dare to do ‘big’ thing – that’s why you don’t hear much about robbery but just a lot of petty thefts. And men could take ‘no’ anyhow there’re plenty fish out in the sea where they could easily fish somewhere else.
Too bad there aren’t invitations from young handsome bachelors – the average age of my interviewees is perhaps 50.. ahh perhaps this is the biggest mistake in my fieldwork! LOL!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
‘YOU take minibuses?!?!?’
I was waiting for my radio broadcaster friend outside of British Council at the City Centre when a boy (about 15 years old) came up to me to ‘practise his English’. Oh I was glad to help as I had nothing to do anyway why not just have a chat.
But practising English was just a camouflage – within 3 minutes he asked for 100kwacha (about 40p) from me for his ailing ‘neighbour’. Hmm that’s interesting – usually people just ask for money by extending their hands ‘money, money, give me money’; but this one was ‘professional’ – he had special tactic.. usually I would just ignore them (giving money is BAD practice – never do so as this will create more dependency on mzungus to bring more money.. I will write about this soon) but this time I had time so I chose to continue the conversation instead.
‘Hey young man, listen here, you’re smart, you speak good English, you can get a job and you can earn money for your family. If today I give you money, what do you do tomorrow? Ask for more money from me?’
Now he was confused. Perhaps he never thought I would speak to him this way. And perhaps he thought I didn’t understand his request so he repeated what he wanted – well it was merely 100kwacha from a rich mzungu (and why bother to argue!!)!
But I think he didn’t understand me – so I repeated what I said by stressing on ‘you speak GOOD English’ (as I’m not sure if he’s smart or not, speaking good English was the only fair judgement I could give). And this time he blinked at the statement – ‘I speak good English? You CAN understand me??? YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME???’
Of course I can understand you! Oh my god! And I took it further to reason with him –
‘Young man (as if I am so old!), you see, not all mzungus are rich – I’m also like you, I also take minibuses – look at my shoes (I pointed to my sport shoes which were full of dust – which is something you don’t see on people who use only cars), I also walk like you; I am NOT different from YOU!’
And he was stunned for 2 seconds. ‘You take minibus? YOU take minibus?! YOU.. TAKE.. MINIBUS??!??’
I am not exaggerating – he repeated the question THREE times. As if I am from Mars.
Oh then I seized the opportunity – I am desperate at making these people realise they’re not of any lower status than the mzungus! The reason why poor countries continue to be poor is because we never have the confidence that we are as good as the rich ones! This is so wrong!
‘YES! I TAKE MINIBUSES! You see, we are the same! If I work to get money, you also can do this – you see, you speak good English, you can get a job and you can earn money! One day you’ll be successful! And how rich you are is not about how much money you earn, if I earn 50,000kwacha a month I still can be poorer than you even if you earn 5,000kwacha a month – it’s about how you spend your money!’
Unfortunately this interesting conversation was interrupted by my friend who wasn’t patient enough for me to continue preaching. I was dragged away before I finished my preaching – and the boy was desperate.. I think he re-gained his ‘consciousness’ (which was to get money, not preaching from me) and went back to his begging mood ‘100kwacha! Madam! 100kwacha!’
Aaarrrrgghh!!
But practising English was just a camouflage – within 3 minutes he asked for 100kwacha (about 40p) from me for his ailing ‘neighbour’. Hmm that’s interesting – usually people just ask for money by extending their hands ‘money, money, give me money’; but this one was ‘professional’ – he had special tactic.. usually I would just ignore them (giving money is BAD practice – never do so as this will create more dependency on mzungus to bring more money.. I will write about this soon) but this time I had time so I chose to continue the conversation instead.
‘Hey young man, listen here, you’re smart, you speak good English, you can get a job and you can earn money for your family. If today I give you money, what do you do tomorrow? Ask for more money from me?’
Now he was confused. Perhaps he never thought I would speak to him this way. And perhaps he thought I didn’t understand his request so he repeated what he wanted – well it was merely 100kwacha from a rich mzungu (and why bother to argue!!)!
But I think he didn’t understand me – so I repeated what I said by stressing on ‘you speak GOOD English’ (as I’m not sure if he’s smart or not, speaking good English was the only fair judgement I could give). And this time he blinked at the statement – ‘I speak good English? You CAN understand me??? YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME???’
Of course I can understand you! Oh my god! And I took it further to reason with him –
‘Young man (as if I am so old!), you see, not all mzungus are rich – I’m also like you, I also take minibuses – look at my shoes (I pointed to my sport shoes which were full of dust – which is something you don’t see on people who use only cars), I also walk like you; I am NOT different from YOU!’
And he was stunned for 2 seconds. ‘You take minibus? YOU take minibus?! YOU.. TAKE.. MINIBUS??!??’
I am not exaggerating – he repeated the question THREE times. As if I am from Mars.
Oh then I seized the opportunity – I am desperate at making these people realise they’re not of any lower status than the mzungus! The reason why poor countries continue to be poor is because we never have the confidence that we are as good as the rich ones! This is so wrong!
‘YES! I TAKE MINIBUSES! You see, we are the same! If I work to get money, you also can do this – you see, you speak good English, you can get a job and you can earn money! One day you’ll be successful! And how rich you are is not about how much money you earn, if I earn 50,000kwacha a month I still can be poorer than you even if you earn 5,000kwacha a month – it’s about how you spend your money!’
Unfortunately this interesting conversation was interrupted by my friend who wasn’t patient enough for me to continue preaching. I was dragged away before I finished my preaching – and the boy was desperate.. I think he re-gained his ‘consciousness’ (which was to get money, not preaching from me) and went back to his begging mood ‘100kwacha! Madam! 100kwacha!’
Aaarrrrgghh!!
Security checks at an American NGO building
Even at Lilongwe International Airport you don’t get checked this way. There is no other building at Lilongwe that hires so many security guards. I felt I entered another world immediately after I entered the iron gate (which probably also was watching me if only it has eyes!..kidding..). you need to get through two security checks where your bag will be searched, and you will be scanned. When you finally arrived at the reception, your details will be recorded and you’ll be handed a visitor card if you are granted entrance. And you don’t have to worry you’ll be lost in the building as you won’t be allowed to wander around – you’ll be seated until a messenger comes over to take you straight to where you need to get to. No messing around, strictly business. No gossip groups as I usually see at other places. Nobody stands at reception to chat. Everybody is busy. An atmosphere that reminds you that you are at a ‘very efficient’ place.
I looked around idly. As nobody seemed to be interested to chat with me. So it was so boring I had to read the mission statement of the institution – one strong message is they want to bring democracy and ensure maintenance of human rights to developing countries. Hahaha.. you know what I was laughing at!!!
I looked around idly. As nobody seemed to be interested to chat with me. So it was so boring I had to read the mission statement of the institution – one strong message is they want to bring democracy and ensure maintenance of human rights to developing countries. Hahaha.. you know what I was laughing at!!!
Peter Mawanga Concert 27/06/10
Excellent!!! Thumb’s up!!
Actually we (I went with my house owners F and I) almost left because it took so long for the concert to start.. it was supposed to start at 2pm but because the sound engineer didn’t come so it took them almost two hours to tune the instruments.. arrgghh – tell me about ‘African time’!! however I am soooo glad we stayed otherwise I wouldn’t have chance to see Peter Mawanga – this band plays so well I would definitely say they deserve a concert at the London O2! I heard that they did have a concert somewhere in London some time ago so perhaps I’ll see them again in the UK!
There’re three things in Malawi I find most rewarding – people, music, and starry nights!
People – needless to elaborate more, super friendly. Although I do have difficulties to connect with those who don’t speak English but language isn’t the primary factor in friendship. They provide me with a very different outlook of life. Very different – that difference intrigues me and makes me wonder why I only see things one way and what possibly could other ways be.
Music – so far I’ve been to two concerts and both are amazing.. I find African music very communal – it naturally gathers people to sing/dance along a very popular example is the World Cup theme song This Time for Africa! Wow this song is just soooo popular – once you play this song you engage EVERYBODY, IMMEDIATELY! That’s also the one of the most popular songs (after waka waka) among local clubs nobody gets tired even if it was played continuously 2 or 3 times! They are particularly good with drums and you know how drums attract crowd. And you get drums everywhere you go they aren’t as expensive as violins, guitars; aren’t as massive as pianos; drums are musical instrument for the people.
And thirdly – starry nights! In the UK I only had ONE chance to see this – that was when I was at Lake District and that gained lots of wow WoW WOW from us! But here.. you get that EVERY NIGHT. Yes, EVERY night! Yeah! Every night it’s so pleasant to just sit outside and look at the sky..! unless there’s too much cloud, you don’t have light pollution to block you from this nature beauty! You have development, you lose the sky – yes this world is fair in this sense!
So now, my next mission is to get a Peter Mawanga’s CD!
Actually we (I went with my house owners F and I) almost left because it took so long for the concert to start.. it was supposed to start at 2pm but because the sound engineer didn’t come so it took them almost two hours to tune the instruments.. arrgghh – tell me about ‘African time’!! however I am soooo glad we stayed otherwise I wouldn’t have chance to see Peter Mawanga – this band plays so well I would definitely say they deserve a concert at the London O2! I heard that they did have a concert somewhere in London some time ago so perhaps I’ll see them again in the UK!
There’re three things in Malawi I find most rewarding – people, music, and starry nights!
People – needless to elaborate more, super friendly. Although I do have difficulties to connect with those who don’t speak English but language isn’t the primary factor in friendship. They provide me with a very different outlook of life. Very different – that difference intrigues me and makes me wonder why I only see things one way and what possibly could other ways be.
Music – so far I’ve been to two concerts and both are amazing.. I find African music very communal – it naturally gathers people to sing/dance along a very popular example is the World Cup theme song This Time for Africa! Wow this song is just soooo popular – once you play this song you engage EVERYBODY, IMMEDIATELY! That’s also the one of the most popular songs (after waka waka) among local clubs nobody gets tired even if it was played continuously 2 or 3 times! They are particularly good with drums and you know how drums attract crowd. And you get drums everywhere you go they aren’t as expensive as violins, guitars; aren’t as massive as pianos; drums are musical instrument for the people.
And thirdly – starry nights! In the UK I only had ONE chance to see this – that was when I was at Lake District and that gained lots of wow WoW WOW from us! But here.. you get that EVERY NIGHT. Yes, EVERY night! Yeah! Every night it’s so pleasant to just sit outside and look at the sky..! unless there’s too much cloud, you don’t have light pollution to block you from this nature beauty! You have development, you lose the sky – yes this world is fair in this sense!
So now, my next mission is to get a Peter Mawanga’s CD!
Resuming Research Work.. 24/06/10
So I’m starting another round of data collection. After one week of ‘holiday’ (wasn’t COMPLETELY holiday – most parts of it involved work!!) in Zambia. My mind still lingers around good places and people in Zambia but physically I am at Lilongwe which means I need to resume my research business. Bad thing is I have not been feeling well since coming back from Zambia, thanks to all the travelling hassle which deprived me of valuable sleeping hours (you know how much I need sleep...). Ahhh.. work... crazy crazy again.. huge task.. very much overwhelmed... Today I visited one of the top people in pharmacy, who has contacts with almost everybody I have to see in Lilongwe. And got the location of each institution I’m going to visit right. Gosh I have to run all over Lilongwe! To me Lilongwe is just too big, after coming from Blantyre, which has most things concentrated at one small area where I could easily access any place by foot. Now I think I will have difficult time finding directions and planning my interview schedule as one interview location could be very far from the next one.. and I heard Lilongwe is much ‘rougher’ than Blantyre (people kept telling me that before I left Blantyre). I think perhaps I need to move out of where I currently stay because it’s just too far from wherever I need to go for the following 3-4 weeks. I need to take at least 2 minibuses to get to where most interview venues are. But moving (again) makes me feel tired.. I’ve been dragging my suitcase from one place to the other for two weeks arrgghh the task of packing, unpacking, lifting and moving.. just thinking of these makes me tiiiiiireeeeddd... but that’s the thing about intensive fieldwork – I have no room to stop and think – I need to get into action, Action, ACTION! Quickly! Otherwise I lose time and money runs out!
Ahh I am just sooo tired..
Ahh I am just sooo tired..
Living with a Burundian-Italian Couple - another eye-opening experience 22/06/10
I think meeting Mr C and D opens up the door for me. I feel my life was flushed in with so many good people suddenly. I had no plans as to where to stay in Lilongwe (apart from a very expensive guest house which I didn’t wish to move into). Mrs F texted me one hour before I reached Lilongwe to ask if I was interested to look at their house. Well I send a group email to a group of potential landlords before I left Malawi a week ago but most of them replied me via emails (which I couldn’t access when I was in Zambia). Only F texted me. The price was much better than the ones from the guest house so I said yes right away. Again it was a risk – I didn’t know who they were, no idea where they live.. I just trusted my intuition which told me this was going to be alright.
My intuition didn’t fail me. It was indeed better than alright. Florisa and her husband T are very nice people. F is an Italian and T a Burundian. Interesting match isn’t it! I somehow felt this could be a romance started at refugee camps.. true enough – they actually met when he was living in the refugee camp in Malawi back in 2003. He is just 31 and had lived in refugee camps his whole life since birth up until he was 27! Can you imagine if you are put in refugee camps as long as 27 years! And it wasn’t just one refugee camp – he had to move from one to the other – not within one country – but a few countries, because when one becomes unstable you just have to run to the next one... gosh I don’t have words to describe how I feel toward this! T once told me at times he questioned where God was (he’s a Christian) – if He does exist, why there was so much suffering in his life..?!
Through him I change my perception toward what ‘refugee’ means. Previously I had little idea what it could mean – I only understand from the TV refugee camps seemed to be a place of hell where you put up temporary until things become stable then you go back to normal life. But NO, the reality is, one could live in refugee camps throughout his/her life! And life does go on within refugee camps – they do have schools, clinics, markets.. just like a neighbourhood – the difference is, they have no freedom like us. They have no passport to move freely. They can’t even do business outside of refugee camps because the government doesn’t allow them to – as a result of objection from local community that these refugees could possibly snatch business or job opportunities if they are allowed to. However when you think carefully, there’re many valuable sources of manpower from refugee camps – there’re doctors, nurses, educated people, businessmen.. who could possibly benefit the country because they’re also good brains to contribute to the country’s economy and development. When the local Malawians lament about not having enough job opportunities, having businessmen starting up any type of businesses actually provide jobs for the local people. And having doctors and nurses coming out of the camps to work in the hospitals surely benefit the health system.. what do we worry about..?!!? This world isn’t fair is it – just because you are born in Somalia, Burundi, Congo.. you’re robbed of basic human rights to move around and live like others do!
About F, I admire her kind heart and open mind – I admire how receptive she is to another completely different culture/world. She’s an Italian, and having grown up and lived in a modern (warless) world throughout her life. And how she is, pregnant with an ex-refugee’s baby (that’s how most people would interpret it!), learning Burundian language and practice the culture. I once asked her what they do for living. I was a bit puzzled at how they could actually plan for the baby’s future as there’s no income really for their current job. They’re merely getting expenses covered and no ‘savings’. Later I found out actually personal ‘savings’ is a very westernised concept. Florisa doesn’t really know how to explain to me (as I think she thought it would be very difficult to explain to me, which indeed she’s right because it took me a long time to understand this) and but she said stayed in my mind for a long time – ‘sometimes you wonder why you need more.. there’re many ways we get what we need’. I didn’t understand how she meant at that time but later when she received donated clothes from others I started to understand. In westernised world, we acquire things by accumulating personal wealth then we acquire necessities using the money we accumulate. So everybody has one ‘set’ of necessities. But in Africa, you don’t own one ‘set’ of necessities. You SHARE what you have. So I have this bit of extra baby clothes, I give them to F. If F have extra bedsheets, she will give them to me. Something like that. People don’t get secure their future based on money they get, they depend on the support of the whole social network they build. So it’s a socially constructed ‘socialist’ way of living, if you want to label it. You don’t need the government to impose the concept of socialism, people just naturally practice that.
They are so special. I’m so glad I met them. I always believe fate brings me to many friends I met along my way in Africa and this is just one of the best examples. If not because I didn’t have internet access in Zambia, I would most probably move into another house which is more convenient to me and I would miss the chance to meet such wonderful people.
My intuition didn’t fail me. It was indeed better than alright. Florisa and her husband T are very nice people. F is an Italian and T a Burundian. Interesting match isn’t it! I somehow felt this could be a romance started at refugee camps.. true enough – they actually met when he was living in the refugee camp in Malawi back in 2003. He is just 31 and had lived in refugee camps his whole life since birth up until he was 27! Can you imagine if you are put in refugee camps as long as 27 years! And it wasn’t just one refugee camp – he had to move from one to the other – not within one country – but a few countries, because when one becomes unstable you just have to run to the next one... gosh I don’t have words to describe how I feel toward this! T once told me at times he questioned where God was (he’s a Christian) – if He does exist, why there was so much suffering in his life..?!
Through him I change my perception toward what ‘refugee’ means. Previously I had little idea what it could mean – I only understand from the TV refugee camps seemed to be a place of hell where you put up temporary until things become stable then you go back to normal life. But NO, the reality is, one could live in refugee camps throughout his/her life! And life does go on within refugee camps – they do have schools, clinics, markets.. just like a neighbourhood – the difference is, they have no freedom like us. They have no passport to move freely. They can’t even do business outside of refugee camps because the government doesn’t allow them to – as a result of objection from local community that these refugees could possibly snatch business or job opportunities if they are allowed to. However when you think carefully, there’re many valuable sources of manpower from refugee camps – there’re doctors, nurses, educated people, businessmen.. who could possibly benefit the country because they’re also good brains to contribute to the country’s economy and development. When the local Malawians lament about not having enough job opportunities, having businessmen starting up any type of businesses actually provide jobs for the local people. And having doctors and nurses coming out of the camps to work in the hospitals surely benefit the health system.. what do we worry about..?!!? This world isn’t fair is it – just because you are born in Somalia, Burundi, Congo.. you’re robbed of basic human rights to move around and live like others do!
About F, I admire her kind heart and open mind – I admire how receptive she is to another completely different culture/world. She’s an Italian, and having grown up and lived in a modern (warless) world throughout her life. And how she is, pregnant with an ex-refugee’s baby (that’s how most people would interpret it!), learning Burundian language and practice the culture. I once asked her what they do for living. I was a bit puzzled at how they could actually plan for the baby’s future as there’s no income really for their current job. They’re merely getting expenses covered and no ‘savings’. Later I found out actually personal ‘savings’ is a very westernised concept. Florisa doesn’t really know how to explain to me (as I think she thought it would be very difficult to explain to me, which indeed she’s right because it took me a long time to understand this) and but she said stayed in my mind for a long time – ‘sometimes you wonder why you need more.. there’re many ways we get what we need’. I didn’t understand how she meant at that time but later when she received donated clothes from others I started to understand. In westernised world, we acquire things by accumulating personal wealth then we acquire necessities using the money we accumulate. So everybody has one ‘set’ of necessities. But in Africa, you don’t own one ‘set’ of necessities. You SHARE what you have. So I have this bit of extra baby clothes, I give them to F. If F have extra bedsheets, she will give them to me. Something like that. People don’t get secure their future based on money they get, they depend on the support of the whole social network they build. So it’s a socially constructed ‘socialist’ way of living, if you want to label it. You don’t need the government to impose the concept of socialism, people just naturally practice that.
They are so special. I’m so glad I met them. I always believe fate brings me to many friends I met along my way in Africa and this is just one of the best examples. If not because I didn’t have internet access in Zambia, I would most probably move into another house which is more convenient to me and I would miss the chance to meet such wonderful people.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Criminals at Lusaka Inter-city Bus Terminus 21/06/10
My visit to Zambia didn’t end with a good note.
I booked a coach ticket from Lusaka to Lilongwe yesterday, that should depart from Lusaka at 12N. On getting off the taxi at Lusaka Inter-City Bus Terminus, my luggage was immediately grabbed by a group of guys who allegedly ‘helped’ me with my ‘very heavy’ luggage. It was useless to shout at them. Holding my luggage ‘hostage’, they demanded ‘luggage fee’ (which was totally unheard of) from me in order to ‘transfer it from Lusaka to Lilongwe’ – so the coach fare I paid didn’t include luggage? Oh obviously NOT! I have spent all Zambian Kwacha so I had to pay in Malawian Kwacha – and these greedy barbarians took opportunity again to manipulate on the exchange rate to extort more money from me. I ended up paying 4 times higher than usual – a REAL mzungu price! Anyhow I later found out that most passengers didn’t pay at all even though they travelled with 10 bags or more!
Well as I said the coach was supposed to leave at 12NOON. The name of the coach company was Zambia-Botswana Luxury Coach Service. And it wasn’t cheap – the price was ‘luxury’ indeed, but service was the lousiest! Instead of departing at 12N, we departed at 1500. For three hours, I was just sitting in the bus watching vendors coming up and getting down the bus. Basically they moved the whole market up into the bus. They sold everything you could think of – from food, drinks, gloves/socks/scarves, phone credits, items you could normally think passengers need; to peculiar items like wigs, half-length mirror (how on earth do I carry this if I purchase the mirror?!), primary school exam questions, television (???!!), etc etc..
Before we left, we had to change to another coach at 1430. I saw everybody suddenly rushing down the bus and I didn’t know why. Nobody said anything to us. I tried to ask but nobody spoke to me, or spoke to me in the local dialect. When I finally found out that I needed to move to the second bus because only the second bus was ‘licensed’ to cross the border, I found my luggage was locked in a compartment in the first bus but I found nobody to open that for me. And the stupid thing was the second bus had less seats than the first one – so everybody squeezed into the second bus in panic. I was panicking too – as I had to get in the second bus to grab a seat; but I couldn’t leave the first bus because my luggage was kept in the locked compartment. I was worried the first bus would leave with my luggage and the second bus would leave without me.. I tried to get some help but had nobody to turn to. All the gangsters who extorted money (for ‘luggage fee’) from me just now just disappeared. They didn’t issue receipt for the fee I paid so obviously they were just robbing me because they knew I couldn’t do anything but to obey. And now I was in the situation with absolutely no help, and no idea what was going on.. It was the first time during my whole trip I felt so helpless, so lonely, and so angry..! and the next thing I knew was I started to sob uncontrollably. May be they were not just tears out of today’s frustration but an accumulation over the past few weeks.. I had been feeling so lonely, and so scared at times; I thought I was strong but at this moment I was not at all.. I felt I just wanted to give up. I don’t want to travel alone anymore. It is just too tiring to be constantly on the watch-out for bullies, for people to take advantage just because I look different from the others, constantly planning and budgeting not to spend too much, constantly worrying for not getting home before dark....... ahhh it’s just too much... I just want to go back home.. hoME... HOMEEEE...
Perhaps the tears saved me. One of the guys came forward to help me move my luggage to the second bus and explained me what was going on in English. I couldn’t thank him enough, though he was actually one of them who sold too many tickets for too less the seats. These greedy bastards don’t care for safety, they just wanted to make money. They just issued tickets to whoever came forward without taking into consideration whether we fit in the coach or not. If you don’t get in the bus, you lose your money anyway. In the end, the whole bus was overloaded. Luggage was everywhere, from the luggage compartment to every corner of the coach especially the aisle. There was literally no space to walk – you had to step on other people’s luggage to ‘walk’. There were a few times my arm was nearly stepped on as somebody’s legs had nowhere to stretch but to step on somebody’s arms!
I thought I could finally rest after the coach departed at 1500. But it only moved for 15 minutes before all passengers were asked to get down the coach because coach needed diesel refill. I asked why we needed to get down for refill oh the reason was they were worried the coach would ‘catch fire’ during refill. Oh very considerate indeed of our safety! But strange enough passengers gathered right beside the coach.. so if there was indeed fire, what’s the difference for you to sit in the bus or to stand right beside the bus?!?
I don’t understand why but the refill took 30 minutes. You really can’t get impatient with such ‘luxurious’ service you are just wasting your energy.. so oh fine we moved again at 345pm. I closed my eyes and thought oh great I would reach Lilongwe 4am instead of 1am as promised earlier by the coach company.
But NO, reaching Lilongwe at 4am next morning was indeed a LUXURY. The coach stopped again at 5pm – it broke down because one of the water pipes burst and some other problems. The driver and bus conductor spent 30 minutes to repair it just to get the coach to run for another 10 minutes. And it stopped and got ‘repaired’ again for 10-minute running. This tedious cycle was repeated 3 times before the bus driver finally convinced that this bus couldn’t run anymore.
We were left stranded in the coach for the next 8 hours. No rescue bus came. Most passengers slept in the bus. Some left the bus to have some fun in the club at a nearby village – don’t worry, be happy, always! I just slept I was too tired to worry anymore. But the elderly uncle who sat beside me didn’t allow me to sleep too long.. he accidently spilt half a bottle of coke onto my trousers and woke me up completely..
The rescue bus finally came at 2am. There went another frantic fight for seats in the new bus. Everybody was panicking. Everybody was trying to save his/her seats and taking care of the luggage. So you saw people squeezing into the bus to grab a seat, then squeezing to get down the bus to move the luggage over to the new bus. As most people had more than one luggage (I always think people in Africa move their house with buses, or sometimes even minibuses.. they have so much to carry! You would lose count of how many gunny sacks they carry!!) they had to run up and down for many times. The whole process of switching bus took 2 hours can you believe it.. because we need to allow time for argument (about whose seat was ‘stolen’, about people from which part of the country are greater.. etc etc). It was just a total MESS...!
Finally the bus moved at 4am. We reached the border at 12pm next day. And the rest of the journey was uneventful (even if something happened again.. didn’t surprise me anymore..!). I got to my new place in Lilongwe at about 2pm.
I swear this was the first time and also the last time I would ever take this coach! And I would never travel alone at Lusaka – just too much harassment, too much mzungu price!
I booked a coach ticket from Lusaka to Lilongwe yesterday, that should depart from Lusaka at 12N. On getting off the taxi at Lusaka Inter-City Bus Terminus, my luggage was immediately grabbed by a group of guys who allegedly ‘helped’ me with my ‘very heavy’ luggage. It was useless to shout at them. Holding my luggage ‘hostage’, they demanded ‘luggage fee’ (which was totally unheard of) from me in order to ‘transfer it from Lusaka to Lilongwe’ – so the coach fare I paid didn’t include luggage? Oh obviously NOT! I have spent all Zambian Kwacha so I had to pay in Malawian Kwacha – and these greedy barbarians took opportunity again to manipulate on the exchange rate to extort more money from me. I ended up paying 4 times higher than usual – a REAL mzungu price! Anyhow I later found out that most passengers didn’t pay at all even though they travelled with 10 bags or more!
Well as I said the coach was supposed to leave at 12NOON. The name of the coach company was Zambia-Botswana Luxury Coach Service. And it wasn’t cheap – the price was ‘luxury’ indeed, but service was the lousiest! Instead of departing at 12N, we departed at 1500. For three hours, I was just sitting in the bus watching vendors coming up and getting down the bus. Basically they moved the whole market up into the bus. They sold everything you could think of – from food, drinks, gloves/socks/scarves, phone credits, items you could normally think passengers need; to peculiar items like wigs, half-length mirror (how on earth do I carry this if I purchase the mirror?!), primary school exam questions, television (???!!), etc etc..
Before we left, we had to change to another coach at 1430. I saw everybody suddenly rushing down the bus and I didn’t know why. Nobody said anything to us. I tried to ask but nobody spoke to me, or spoke to me in the local dialect. When I finally found out that I needed to move to the second bus because only the second bus was ‘licensed’ to cross the border, I found my luggage was locked in a compartment in the first bus but I found nobody to open that for me. And the stupid thing was the second bus had less seats than the first one – so everybody squeezed into the second bus in panic. I was panicking too – as I had to get in the second bus to grab a seat; but I couldn’t leave the first bus because my luggage was kept in the locked compartment. I was worried the first bus would leave with my luggage and the second bus would leave without me.. I tried to get some help but had nobody to turn to. All the gangsters who extorted money (for ‘luggage fee’) from me just now just disappeared. They didn’t issue receipt for the fee I paid so obviously they were just robbing me because they knew I couldn’t do anything but to obey. And now I was in the situation with absolutely no help, and no idea what was going on.. It was the first time during my whole trip I felt so helpless, so lonely, and so angry..! and the next thing I knew was I started to sob uncontrollably. May be they were not just tears out of today’s frustration but an accumulation over the past few weeks.. I had been feeling so lonely, and so scared at times; I thought I was strong but at this moment I was not at all.. I felt I just wanted to give up. I don’t want to travel alone anymore. It is just too tiring to be constantly on the watch-out for bullies, for people to take advantage just because I look different from the others, constantly planning and budgeting not to spend too much, constantly worrying for not getting home before dark....... ahhh it’s just too much... I just want to go back home.. hoME... HOMEEEE...
Perhaps the tears saved me. One of the guys came forward to help me move my luggage to the second bus and explained me what was going on in English. I couldn’t thank him enough, though he was actually one of them who sold too many tickets for too less the seats. These greedy bastards don’t care for safety, they just wanted to make money. They just issued tickets to whoever came forward without taking into consideration whether we fit in the coach or not. If you don’t get in the bus, you lose your money anyway. In the end, the whole bus was overloaded. Luggage was everywhere, from the luggage compartment to every corner of the coach especially the aisle. There was literally no space to walk – you had to step on other people’s luggage to ‘walk’. There were a few times my arm was nearly stepped on as somebody’s legs had nowhere to stretch but to step on somebody’s arms!
I thought I could finally rest after the coach departed at 1500. But it only moved for 15 minutes before all passengers were asked to get down the coach because coach needed diesel refill. I asked why we needed to get down for refill oh the reason was they were worried the coach would ‘catch fire’ during refill. Oh very considerate indeed of our safety! But strange enough passengers gathered right beside the coach.. so if there was indeed fire, what’s the difference for you to sit in the bus or to stand right beside the bus?!?
I don’t understand why but the refill took 30 minutes. You really can’t get impatient with such ‘luxurious’ service you are just wasting your energy.. so oh fine we moved again at 345pm. I closed my eyes and thought oh great I would reach Lilongwe 4am instead of 1am as promised earlier by the coach company.
But NO, reaching Lilongwe at 4am next morning was indeed a LUXURY. The coach stopped again at 5pm – it broke down because one of the water pipes burst and some other problems. The driver and bus conductor spent 30 minutes to repair it just to get the coach to run for another 10 minutes. And it stopped and got ‘repaired’ again for 10-minute running. This tedious cycle was repeated 3 times before the bus driver finally convinced that this bus couldn’t run anymore.
We were left stranded in the coach for the next 8 hours. No rescue bus came. Most passengers slept in the bus. Some left the bus to have some fun in the club at a nearby village – don’t worry, be happy, always! I just slept I was too tired to worry anymore. But the elderly uncle who sat beside me didn’t allow me to sleep too long.. he accidently spilt half a bottle of coke onto my trousers and woke me up completely..
The rescue bus finally came at 2am. There went another frantic fight for seats in the new bus. Everybody was panicking. Everybody was trying to save his/her seats and taking care of the luggage. So you saw people squeezing into the bus to grab a seat, then squeezing to get down the bus to move the luggage over to the new bus. As most people had more than one luggage (I always think people in Africa move their house with buses, or sometimes even minibuses.. they have so much to carry! You would lose count of how many gunny sacks they carry!!) they had to run up and down for many times. The whole process of switching bus took 2 hours can you believe it.. because we need to allow time for argument (about whose seat was ‘stolen’, about people from which part of the country are greater.. etc etc). It was just a total MESS...!
Finally the bus moved at 4am. We reached the border at 12pm next day. And the rest of the journey was uneventful (even if something happened again.. didn’t surprise me anymore..!). I got to my new place in Lilongwe at about 2pm.
I swear this was the first time and also the last time I would ever take this coach! And I would never travel alone at Lusaka – just too much harassment, too much mzungu price!
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