As the Northern Hemisphere heads into winter and the Southern into summer, the minds of many Zimbabwe Rhodesians turn to home. Scattered around the globe, we miss many things about our old country. These include our friends, the places we loved, the food, and way of life. In May–June 2019, my visit to Zimbabwe brought back many memories.
On that trip, I paid little attention to the weather. It was balmy and didn’t force its way to front of mind. We used to laugh about how the British always talked about the weather. Not unreasonable, I suppose, when faced with the icy Atlantic and North Sea winds. In Australia, the conversation is often about the heat, and in South-East Asia, the humidity.
As time goes by, I realise what a wonderful climate Rhodesia possessed. I discovered in my travels around the world, few places could boast as comfortable a climate as the Zimbabwe Rhodesian highveld.
Certainly, summer days were hot, but the cool evenings that followed tempered their effect. In many places I’ve been, uncomfortable warm nights follow hot days. And when these conditions persist, they have a wearying effect.
There were occasional airless nights in Bulawayo, without a breath of wind, when it felt too warm to spend the evening indoors. We’d sit on the red polished veranda with the lights switched on. The lights discouraged mosquitoes but attracted a cloud of other insects buzzing around us.
The brown, round beetles, ill-equipped for flying, spent the evening looking like tortoises trying to get back on their feet. If successful, they’d fly off again, only to end up on their backs elsewhere on the veranda. A cloud of assorted tiny black flying insects with transparent wings would surround us, and occasionally we’d see the grand prize, a rhino beetle. Sometimes, a clumsy flying, round beetle would collide with you, but the clouds of insects were a minor nuisance compared to other places I’ve been.
Most often, a late breeze stirred, and the next evening was cool once more. My best memories of summer nights in Rhodesia were driving in Bulawayo or Salisbury with the windows, or better still, the sunroof open.
The rainy season, my favourite time of the year, followed the dry heat of early summer. Rain would threaten for days, if not weeks, but then it came in a rush, cooling the ambient temperature and sweeping the streets clean of dust and twigs. Bulawayo’s avenues, designed with dips, sent the rainwater racing down to the Matsheumhlope River. Small concrete bridges allowed pedestrians to cross the avenues in rainy weather.
Remember the smell of the first rain, the ozone preceding the downpour, and the rain on the dusty dry earth afterwards? And the claps of thunder that signalled the coming deluge that drummed so hard on the corrugated iron roof, you couldn’t hear yourself speak?
In Salisbury, leading up to Christmas, the dark clouds would build and build until they looked like they’d burst. Then the deluge threatened to flood the streets, but soon, brilliant sunshine would follow, before the clouds built again. Each phase, of roughly thirty to forty minutes, would cycle through the morning.
When the rainy season passed, winter was on its way. But winter in Rhodesia meant warm, sunny days and chilly, sometimes freezing nights. We enjoyed camping on the four-day Rhodes and Founders’ weekend. In the morning, as you walked across the grass, it would crunch under your feet, but by mid-morning, the winter sun would have warmed your bones to meet another comfortable winter’s day.
The dry winter air would take its toll on your lips, turning them into strips of sandpaper, making it essential to apply Lip-Ice. A braai around the campfire, a delight. The swimming baths closed. I don’t think there were any icebergers in Rhodesia. But on one winter’s day in Nyanga, after a hot walk through the bush, we found a farm reservoir about twenty-five metres in diameter. Tempted, we jumped in. Big mistake! It was icy. We swam fast as possible to exit on the other side.
For me, the only real wintry days were the rare, grey, windy ones blowing dust into our eyes.
Endless, cold days with steel grey skies can be just as wearying as persistent hot days and warm nights. The cold eats into your bones as you wonder if you’ll ever see the sun again. But this was not a Rhodesian problem.
We grew up, learning of Africa as the dark continent, the hot, dark continent. But the Southern African highveld is light green and yellow, with bright days in winter and summer, making it one of the most liveable climates to be found anywhere. Winter with warm days and chilly nights, and summer with hot days and cool nights. Yes, we can add the Rhodesian climate to the list of things we miss.
As I wrote this piece, thinking about Rhodesia, I couldn’t help remembering the chorus of one of Fats Domino’s old songs:
Let the four wind blow
Let ‘em blow, let ‘em blow
From the East to the West
I love you the best
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