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This week the sun battld with the cloud and light rain

Following the surgery to get my ATOMs implant for my post-prostate surgery late last year, I started to feel bloated, accompanied by sharp stomach pain. I thought it was just bad wind, as my bowels have never really functioned as well as they did before my last stomach surgery. After all, I have had about two metres of my intestines removed over the three surgeries. Then, following my second surgery to relocate the ATOMs pad two days before Christmas, the pain became much more frequent, though still sporadic. I got some relief through taking ‘wind pills’, by lying on my side with a hot bean bag around my stomach and the occasional paracetamol. Just bearable but painful and annoying, I still put it down to the wind. Then, in February, its frequency suddenly increased, and around mid-February, my blood sugar suddenly shot up, despite previous excellent control with diet and medication. The ‘muti’ suddenly no longer worked; by then, I had cut out bread, onions, cool drinks, and anything else I thought would cause wind. I rarely ate sweets and drank alcohol. By then, it was only a few weeks until I saw my stomach surgeon for a cancer review, and rather than go to my local GP decided to stupidly wait until I saw him before seeking help from my local doctor. After I mentioned it in my blog, Roger Manley rebuked me upon hearing about the delay, and rightly so, as it proved. By the time I got to see the surgeon last Wednesday, the prior week had been awful, with debilitating pain every day and no quick relief. The spasms had become half-day events. 

My surgeon, on seeing me, suggested or rather diagnosed me as having pancreatitis. Seemingly not an uncommon ailment often brought on by binge drinking, something I have not done for many years. Perhaps it was my medication, I swallow so many pills every day. That is pure conjecture, but a possibility. Meanwhile, I had an appointment with my GP today, Monday, to discuss my blood sugar. My surgeon, along with my good ‘patient’ wife, on her own research, told me I must fast and then only have small meals, no fat, no red meat, no alcohol, etc., etc., etc. It is now five days since starting the treatment medication and the diet, and I have now had two days with less pain. Enzymes are taken at each meal to enhance digestion, along with wind and bowel pills. In the meantime, my GP has gone down sick, but the treatment, enzymes, wind and bowel pills have suddenly triggered a drop in my blood sugars, so not so urgent. I presume the medication is allowing my pancreas to start healing and is starting to work again. I do hope so, but it is early days. My appointment with the GP is now scheduled for next week. Meanwhile, I have to have scans and a colonoscopy before my next appointment with the surgeon. Routine. Yes, my cancer markers are still showing the existence of cancer, but not getting any worse, so that was a relief. It is an understatement to say that I am sick of being sick. Pain and sickness have been regular visitors over the past five years. Rozanne is a fantastic nurse and, may I add, disciplinarian. The latter is probably as important an attribute as the first. After a good start to the week, the stomach pain returned. Hope it's only a blip. Here I am back, writing about an illness being the catalyst for why I started writing this four years ago. At least as yet, I am not in the hospital and was able to watch fantastic rugby this weekend despite the Scottish backline playing well below its normal level. "Ah, weel."

Graham is looking at the ompleted trench

Back to Zambia. Funnily enough, after a severe drought in the 2001/2002 season in April, as the crops were drying off, we had our heaviest rain of the season, doing more harm than good to the little soya beans and seed maize we had produced. They say having a good year in your first year of farming is the worst thing that can happen; you forget that the hard times will always come. A bad year makes you more cautious and circumspect in how you spend your money and the risks you take. It makes you conservative. Not us at Soilmasters, as our farming company was called. We were expanding on the back of a poor season and borrowing to the hilt. I used to be so conservative when farming in Zimbabwe, never borrowing more than the worth of my cattle. Perhaps because we had our farms taken from us, we felt we had nothing to lose; this may be so, but it did not stop us from having sleepless nights. There was a well-known book about the hardships of farming in Rhodesia pre-WW2, a must-read for all African farmers.

Bush clearing on Ndambo

‘Next Year Will Be Better’ by Hylda M. Richards

We were certainly putting our faith in that, so when I was not on the road looking for farms for our scheme, or in the office at ‘Big Brother House’ or on the farm, I was searching for money. Meals were generally from takeaways; the rural ones in Zambia at that time did not quite meet the hygiene and quality standards we were accustomed to in Zimbabwe. So sometimes the stomach met some challenges. There were a couple of exceptions, the best being the Curry House in Chisamba, the best Indian (Sikh) food I have ever tasted and exceptionally cheap. Also, a good place to stock up on ‘mango achaar,’  the world's best. My mouth still waters to this day when I think about their samosas. Are they still open? Meanwhile, we were busy building the dam and starting land clearing, and to make our headache worse, we were planning, in our ambition, to have three sections under tobacco and irrigation. It was planned that each section would grow 50 hectares of irrigated tobacco and the equivalent or nearly so in dryland. So the first step was to clear the land for the irrigated crop, which would be under centre pivots. For non-farmers, this was, and probably still is, the best and most economical way to irrigate field crops such as tobacco, maize, wheat and soya. Basically, the water is pumped into a boom at the centre, which then rotates, irrigating as it goes. Hence the name centre pivot. I am boring farmers with this bit of trivial information, but there are a number of non-farmers who read my blog. Some of the land would be virgin, but much of it was reverted, unlike much of Zimbabwe, where anthills are flattened, in Zambia, along with the regrowth on the reverted land; the ant-hills had never been cleared. I had cleared anthills at home in Zimbabwe, but we were shocked to find so many, and also their massive size. They have very industrious termites in Zambia. They were massive, and each one could take a couple of days to flatten and spread. I will insert a picture of a centre pivot still showing its extent. An expense that was clearly going to run over budget. We realised then that our first crop would have its challenges, as although anthill soil is very fertile, it is initially unsuitable for tobacco and takes about 3 years or more to incorporate into the soil to produce good yields. For the first few years, tobacco may well die, especially during a dry season and due to the high alkalinity. Also, remember we started clearing a year before we would grow the first tobacco crop, as the dam had to be completed and filled, and the curing facilities built, planned for 2003. We were therefore looking forward to nearly two years before we could grow a crop and start repaying our capital loans. Looking back on it, it was a no-win situation, but we pressed on, hoping for a miracle.

Two pivots on the Mtendere section show cleared anthills. These are 50-hectare pivots

Meanwhile, by April 2002, some farmers had committed to moving to Zambia, and we were now very involved in obtaining investment licences and preparing business plans. It was not unusual for Chris Thorne and me to work from 6 am until 10 pm, then entertain any guests staying at ‘Big Brother.’ This was also work, as every prospective scheme member, whether they were just using our accommodation or seeking free information, had many questions. For the world of me, I cannot remember who was the first to sign up. Unfortunately, that particular laptop of mine was destroyed by me reversing over it so I have a dearth of information around that time to prompt my memory. Chris would know, but unfortunately, he is gone.

Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.