Fires. Loneliness - Just Bloody Call!

This glow in the night sky is close enough for us. Sorry for those who are getting their property destroyed.

This week's blog is already written, but I've set it aside for posting next week. I have prepared this one instead. I hope it does not offend; rather, it aims to make us more aware of what we know but often do not act on. I felt that rather than go back to life’s events in my past, I would like to touch on a couple of more current topical subjects. Both are serious, with one related to our life in Portugal and the other stemming from events in 2000 and earlier.

The first is wildfires. It is a nice name for a deadly event. Luckily, we can only see the fires in the distance, but they are raging in northern and central Portugal, the closest some fifteen kilometres from us as the crow flies. Three months of very hot, dry weather have made fires inevitable. In saying that, one of the major causes of the fires is us humans. I am not talking just about the stupidity of throwing a lit cigarette out the car window, but also those idiots who purposely light them. That is arsonists. Criminals. It would appear that, and I have no idea how they have come to this conclusion, these are acts of desperation because of grievances, genuine or unknown or just attention seeking.

What drives someone to instigate such destruction? Of course, not all are intentional.

"You only have to surf the internet to see what some people will do for attention. Lighting fires appears to be just another means without the use of the internet."- Peter McSorran

The sad thing is, it brings about not just the damage to property but the death of people, those innocently caught in the fires and those fighting the fires—losses of homes, belongings and to many rural people, their incomes. The vast majority of the firefighters are volunteers, five thousand on some days. What a commitment. Most of you will have seen the scale of these fires on your TV screens; these volunteers deserve all the admiration they receive from the general public. So far this year, over 200,000 hectares have been destroyed by fire in Portugal. Homes, crops, and plantations are easy to quantify, but how can the suffering of wild, domestic animals and fowl be quantified? A breeder of fighting bulls who has lost some animals remarked this week that those who advocate leaving the countryside to the wild are nowhere to be seen in fighting the consequences of these policies when fires invade farmland and villages.

In Rhodesia, then Zimbabwe, our local Intensive Conservation Associations (ICAs) would ensure we had our fire breaks in place, and heavy fines would be issued if not. In the event of a fire, our labour forces were magnificent in fighting fires, only on rare occasions doing widespread damage. It was the law that if you were in the vicinity of a fire, you should assist in fighting it. This disappeared with Independence. Here in Portugal, especially in central Portugal, where we live, many of the small land holdings have been put down to timber, pine and eucalyptus, with no fire breaks. Government agencies are meant to ensure fire breaks are in place, but generally, this only means clearing to about five metres from a state or council road. Ridiculous as we know a grass fire can easily jump thirty plus metres. These fires here in the forests can jump hundreds of metres. Ironically, the state is probably the biggest owner of forest and therefore perhaps as culpable as the small landowner. So, sadly, for the foreseeable future, we will have to live with the threat of fires and peoples lives will be destroyed each time one occurs.

Fire in the mountains around Lousa, the nearest fire to us this week.

Loneliness. A couple of calls over the past two weeks have really opened my eyes to the troubles, in mind and body, that some of my old friends and acquaintances are suffering. Some are within my social circle and close friends, others were farmers I knew, and some were from as far back as when I was in the Rhodesian army. I will not be mentioning any names other than one, Max Culverhouse, who brought to my attention a broader idea of how big the problem is. For me, the awareness started with a call one evening after I heard that a very dear friend was considering the Dignitas route out of this world. Of course, I have never spoken to her about it, nor will I, as I was informed by a third party. But we have spoken a few times and she is sounding much cheerier, no doubt with the support of others. For me, it's the individual's choice, especially if suffering ill health, accompanied by pain. But in delving a little deeper, it seems to me more and more that it occurs due to a force of circumstance rather than health. Even sane people, with a bout of uncharacteristic depression, consider it. That is suicide, to be blunt. It is awful writing about this, but we cannot ignore the mental pain of some of our ex or present Zimbabwean friends. Shortly after this news, and after calling the person concerned, I called another friend, a woman, thinking she probably needed to hear from someone being on her own. We have several old friends whom we try to catch up with at least every couple of months; these are regular, and we exchange calls or correspondence in one form or another regularly. I now think not enough. Anyway, once again to my shock, this lady, still living an austere life in Zimbabwe, told us that she had had enough of this world. 

I was aware of people being depressed, especially following my own depression way back in 2004 in Zambia. Then and thereafter, I tried helping others who became aware of my problem and that I had overcome it, reaching out to me for assistance in their very personal mental battle. A surprisingly large number. At that time, they were primarily men. Many felt that in losing their farms, they had let their family down. When you lose a farm, home, wealth and belongings, no matter the circumstances, guilt haunts you. Tiredness and stress add to your vulnerability. Often, you have relocated so you no longer have the support of lifelong friends. I am no medical man, just talking from my personal experience. They see themselves as failures, and when those rotating guilt thoughts click in, depression can slip into your life no matter how hard you try to fight it. Now living in Portugal, I've somewhat lost sight of the extent of the problem, although I'm occasionally asked to speak with someone’s loved one who has a problem. Just this week on Facebook, Tug Morkel shared his thoughts on the topic and the importance of talking. He has struggled with PTSD and depression and talks about it openly. He recorded his struggle in a book called ‘Tugs Trek.’

“Medication and counselling can help with depression, but the best long-term remedy is talking, hopefully to immediate family, then friends, or even an acquaintance. Sometimes a complete stranger can make the difference.” - Peter McSporran

Then last weekend, Rozanne heard that one of her old school friends was feeling depressed, once again someone needing support, having considered suicide, and in fact, for a while, was hospitalised because of it. Rozanne called, and they ended up chatting for an hour and a half. This brought it home to Rozanne and me that many women also suffered from depression due to the events in Zimbabwe, not just the men. Losing homes, in some cases their marriages, income, security and having their families scattered throughout the world is tough. Meanwhile, trying to find a job and a place to live with little or no resources or support from friends and family around them. Why was I not aware of the extent of the problem? It can only be because of my own comfortable mental state. Sure, my physical health has been a challenge, but my mental well-being is fine now. I just was not thinking enough about others!

"'Lending an ear' is so important. Let them talk, but ensure you listen properly so your answers or advice is constructive and not just a platitude."- Peter McSporran

Earlier last week, Max asked me to phone one of our old army buddies, who, at this late stage in his life, it has been forty-five years since the Rhodesian war ended, has found out he has PTSD. He was struggling. I must admit this particular friend had also suffered personal tragedy in Africa. In discussion with Max, he mentioned that Major Don Price, on one of Hannes Vessel's “Fighting Men of Rhodesia” podcasts, covers the subject well. He, Don, says this illness often strikes after you reach old age, in your seventies, despite having led a normal life until then. That is PTSD. I subsequently reached out to him. That got my mind going. Would not losing your home and farm not be a trauma of great magnitude? I know there have been many suicides amongst ex-Rhodesians due to events in that country. Thinking deeper, the trauma of moving and finding a home and an income to raise a family in a foreign country could only add to this stress. Still, like many, they would have forged ahead in their endeavours, putting their concerns behind them, trying to re-establish themselves. Now in old age, many have lost their husbands or wives, partners, mostly to death, but some through divorce or because of dementia or even alcoholism. The list is endless. So Rozanne and I will increase the number and frequency of people we call to have a chat. If we contact you and you do not want to speak, just say so, but if you do want to talk, we will be happy to listen confidentially. The worst part of us ex-Zimbos or even still resident Zimbabweans is that our children, and most of our friends, are no longer around us, so there often is nobody to turn to.

“Make it a duty, yes, a duty, to call one of your old friends, especially if they are having a hard time. A conversation can be surprisingly uplifting, especially for those who feel the world has forgotten them.” - Peter McSporran

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