Summary
THE PROPERTY WE EVENTUALLY found and which became our home reached far beyond what we had expected or aimed for. Back home in Germany, it definitely nurtured the reputation we were acquiring among some of our friends that we were stepping right into the shoes of those we had formerly regarded as colonial exploiters and oppressors. But for me, finding this dream-like house became another of the junctions in my life that would transform it as if with a magic wand.
One morning, when Victor was at work and Max at school, I put Franz into his buggy and set off on foot to view a house that wasn't too far from the one we were renting. I remember the day so clearly. Sunlight filtered through the feathery branches arching over Boscobel Drive, my destination.
Houses in Highlands, as the suburb was called, were built in the colonial style of the 1930s and 1940s. Mostly the houses were rather small but set on a large plot of land surrounded by tall old trees and hedges, shielding them from the streets.
I walked along the pavement, pushing Franz carefully over the uneven parts. Streets in these residential areas did not generally have sidewalks and residents seldom walked – they drove everywhere. It was only their nannies, cooks and gardeners in overalls or maids’ uniforms you would see walking anywhere, ambling along, chatting to each other, or gathering at street corners on their lunch breaks. If they saw a white woman walking past, they would turn their heads and stare. Who was she? Why was she not driving a car? And in my case this bright morning – where was she headed with the little blond boy in the pushchair?
Looking out for house No 8, I found myself walking along a hedge, which was very high and seemed to have no end. Where it was a little patchy, I could get a glimpse of the property behind it.
‘Hey, Franziboy, this can't be it,’ I muttered, more to myself than to my son who, dummy in mouth and cuddly cloth in hand, seemed dazed by the warmth and the freckly light.
In the glimpses I got I could make out a wide stretch of lawn, large trees and something sparkling blue.
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- Information
- They Called You DambudzoA Memoir, pp. 65 - 68Publisher: Boydell & BrewerPrint publication year: 2022