THE END OF LIVING IN GOVERMENT QUATERS

 

Evacuation

With Mwalimu Francis, the goverment employee in jail, we were told to evacuate the government quarters as soon as possible, there was only one place to go, to Mwalimu Raphael my grandfather.
A few years back my grandfather Mwalimu Raphael, had started working towards his retirement home.

He got a piece of land in Makorongoni areain Iringa, very near the town grave yards. There were a Christian graveyard, a Muslim grave yard, and Indian graveyard and not very far an area for those who burnt the bodies of their deceased. Mwalimu Raphael got a nice plot, but it had a huge cactus plant right in the middle. There were rumours that witches and wizards flying to the graveyard at night,  used the cactus as their landing tree. People were actually scared of going near the cactus. My grandfather ordered it to be cut, he was not one to be stopped building his retirement house because of a story of some  witches landing strip. And so he ordered the tree to be

cut and built his house along the street now known as Barabara Mbili Street.
 It was a big house, it had 7 bedrooms a kitchen a toilet, a bathroom and a store. This was the house that came to our rescue when we were kicked out of the government house. My  grandfather gave us four rooms. 

My Grandfather

And so life started with my grandfather, he had long retired and having an easy life, he had a maize farm in Isimani, and a few shillings as retirement pay every end of the month. My mother was already working as a Welfare Officer before my father’s sad incident. She was known to all as Mama Maendeleo. The government had provided her with a bicycle and that was her transport to work. 
 As new year 1963 was approaching, my mother had to start preparing for me and my sister to continue school, I was to join Standard three at a  Consolata Primary School.
We needed more  money so my mother  bought a lorry full of wood and cut them into small pieces, and  I as the new man of the house was given the duty of selling selling the firewood after school hours at ten cents per bundle. She also soon got a small piece of land nearby and made a small vegetable garden, we didn't have to buy vegetables at least.
When my father left we were already four children, so my mother had to work hard to make we never missed our father in terms of necessities. We even got new cloths on all religious holidays.  
My grandfather took me into his arms fully,  he became my friend and my teacher, he taught me many things. He would tell me traditional Kihehe stories, taught me songs in English, Kiswahili, and many in Kihehe, he encouraged me in almost everything I wanted to do. He bought me water paints when I told him I wanted to draw, we would even choose together  a picture to draw from one of his many books. Some days he would take me down  to Ruaha river and teach me how to trap fishes, when I look back it seems like it was just fun fun fun. Speaking honestly I never really like missed my father at all.
One day my mother said she was going to Mbeya to pick my father he was coming back.  It was exactly one year since he left Iringa, he was sentenced to 18 months, but served 12 months, sometime being cut for good behaviour