“Kalanyoni” -- The Call of the Bird

What a wild ride to get back to Zimbabwe! Last minute ticket purchases, 18 hours in the air, almost three days on the train without a change of clothes, the hurried taxi ride to airport Customs, the delayed baggage coach, the hurried shopping spree--then finally rest and refreshment at the Jameson. We had a 30-day visitor’s visa and a few contacts from Stan Hannan. Now what?

After lunch we rented a car and drove out the Bulawayo road. We wanted to drive by the Tredgold estate that we had rented in 1978. We were never quite sure why Sir Robert had named it “Kalanyoni,” the call of the bird. Maybe it was eucalyptus trees and their scent that had attracted various species of birds, or maybe it was his prize-winning aloe gardens. For us, Kalanyoni was our fondest memory or our time in Rhodesia. We regretted leaving it when we were transferred to Bulawayo.

What had been miles of grass and bush on the road to Kalanyoni was now a bustling township with hundreds of cement-block one and two room homes for thousands of African residents. We turned down the old farm road that led to Kalanyoni hoping that the beautiful thatched roof residence had survived the war. [Picture from 1977 before township was built.]

The long driveway up the side of the hill to the house had been moved, but the row of eucalyptus trees still lined the old path, now overgrown with grass. We could see that the thatch roof of the main building--the house was still there! Maybe it was still available for us to rent!

As our rental car climbed the new driveway, we saw the familiar aloe gardens and, then, there it was--Oy! Someone had painted the whitewashed walls an odd pastel yellow! That was odd, but the place was intact.

We climbed out of our car and introduced ourselves to a European woman who was watering some flowers. She and her husband had purchased the estate from the Tredgold family a few years before. So, we wouldn’t be able to rent it again, but she allowed us to look around for a few minutes.

It was no longer the majestic residence of the former governor and high court magistrate. The place was not in very good repair and her color choices inside and out made the place look small and dingy. It was sad. We would discover that Kalanyoni’s condition was reflective of the aging and decay of Rhodesia in the new Zimbabwe. The basic structures were intact, but the “shine” seemed to be fading.

Kalanyoni in 1977 -- In 1983, the new owner had painted over the white with an ugly yellow! Left: Rear veranda. With some American friends from the RLI. Right: Front entrance. Our Austin Mini is parked out front.

This was a surprise to us as we had hoped that the lifting of international sanctions against the old Rhodesian regime would lead to greater prosperity for whites and blacks alike. To the contrary, the stores seemed to be less well-stocked than when we left in 1978. Sanctions were lifted, but the value of the Zimbabwe dollar had already dropped 70% and the few new appliances and vehicles that were available were out of the reach of the all except the very rich.

Tourism had not rebounded after the end of the war and consequently, Zimbabwe was just as desperate for foreign currency as had been Rhodesia. The US dollar and South African Rand were heavily traded in the black market at more than twice the bank exchange rate. The Zimbabwe government was constantly pursuing black market exchanges of property, vehicles, precious metals and gems. White farmers who wished to emmigrate to South Africa were not allowed to take their farm equipment with them, neither were they allowed to sell their property in exchange for anything other than Zimbabwe dollars. And, of course, Zimbabwe currency was worthless outside of Zimbabwe.

As missionaries, we eschewed any of these schemes. We exchanged our US currency at the bank receiving Z$3.00 for each US dollar. [Today, one US dollar is worth over 12 billion Zimbabwe dollars.] Sadly, we would encounter a number of Christians who were using various schemes to finance their ministries. We just didn’t understand how they could reconcile proclaiming the truth of God while being financed by illegal means.

Even worse, what kind of example was this for the African Christians? Is it any surprise that today we all get internet solicitations from Africa offering us participation in fraudulent exchange schemes? Usually, these come from Nigeria or Kenya, but just last month, I received an email from a Zimbabwean “businessman” offering me 80% of a 10 million dollar estate if I would just “facilitate” the banking arrangements.

The seeds that would grow into the full-fledged human catastrophe that is Zimbabwe today were already taking root in 1983. Unfortunately, some of those seeds were planted by American missionaries.

With tears in our eyes, we left Kalanyoni to the birds that still called to us from the eucalyptus trees. As we were driving back towards downtown Harare, we saw a strange sight--a white man hitchhiking! Hitching a ride was common in Africa, but this was the first time we had seen a white hitchhiker. Maybe he was a tourist like us?

We offered him a ride only to find out that he was actually a Zimbabwe resident. “John” was a born-again Christian who invited us to visit his church on Sunday. He attended one of several prominent charismatic churches in Harare that ministered primarily to whites. Stopping for tea at his house, he explained that there were three large white charismatic churches in Harare: Rhema Bible Church (pastored by American missionaries Tom and Bonnie Deuschle), Faith Ministries, and the Christian Life Centre.

We had seen an ad for Rhema’s service in the local newspaper and were planning on visiting it the next morning for Sunday services. Hearing this, John became animated about his “doctrinal differences” with Rhema. Apparently, the Deuschles had founded it with the help of Rhema-Johannesburg in association with Kenneth Hagin ministries in Oklahoma. We had visited that South Africa mega-church the Sunday previous while we were in Johannesburg. It’s American-style ministry was identical to what we had experienced in the Word of Faith movement in the US. We had enjoyed the contemporary style worship, but also had serious questions about their “faith” teachings.

Apparently, Rhema in Zimbabwe had become a cause for major divisions in local Christian community. Well, we were just visitors and sought to become familiar with all those serving God in Zimbabwe. We agreed to visit Christian Life Centre for Sunday evening services.

So, we had been back for less than 6 hours and were already impacted by controversies in the Christian community. In order to clear our heads, we decided to drive out to our first home in Alexandra Park. Maybe our retired friends, the Petherams, still lived next door?

Alexandra Park at least, looked no different than the last time we had seen it. The Petherams were home and we spent the afternoon catching up with them. The whole time we had lived next time them during the war, we had never had a discussion that touched on religion. Of course, now that we had returned as ministers rather than warriors, we discovered that their own son was actively involved in his own evangelistic ministry in South Africa. Due to the currency restrictions, they were unable to support his ministry, but asked us to join them in praying for support from some interested South African Christian businessmen.

Alexandra Park rental home in 1977. The previous renter had let the grass grow too long. After trying to tackle it myself, I gave up and hired a full-time gardener. Pegi with Rebel in Alex Park in 1977. The Petherams lived next door.

Returning to the hotel that evening, we considered the first day’s results. We had met an African Christian while shopping for clothes, been introduced to the major white ministries in Harare and made connections with a South African evangelistic outreach. Not bad for a Saturday! What would Sunday bring?

Next: Colorless Sunday Services