In the Podiatrist’s Dental Chair
For more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
This wickerwork crib was probably bought from the Civilian Blind in Salt River. It was used to transport my baby sister on the train trip from Cape Town to Bulawayo, and later served for many years as the family laundry basket.
Jean was born in September 1955. In 1956 my father left for Southern Rhodesia in search of a better life. He ended up in Gwelo, where he found work as a motor mechanic. My mother had to sell the house in Fish Hoek, pack up and make arrangements with a removal company, and then undertake the 3-day train journey north. Her children were aged nine, five and barely one.
My only memory of the trip was of passing through Bechuanaland and how the countryside was becoming increasingly African, with signs of European habitation giving way to thatched mud huts. At one point the train slowed and a group of naked piccanins ran alongside waving, shouting and laughing. I looked into the black face of one little boy and was disgusted to see that he wore a moustache of glistening white snot.
On our arrival in Gwelo my father took us to the Royal Hotel, which was dark and seedy. My mother was far from happy, and when my father showed us the house, we were to live in for the next eight years, she wasn’t over the moon at what she saw. We were unable to move in until our furniture arrived by road some days later.
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Read MoreFor more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
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