Sore Arse, My Designated Stages of Life and Zambia Preparations.

The house Diane and I built on the farm way back in 1980 was taken over in 2002 by Mugabe's nephew

Well, by the time I post this, I will have been home a week and will have had my catheter removed, an event scheduled on Thursday when my surgeon will also try to ascertain how successful the operation was. I cannot expect a hundred per cent success, but even a fifty per cent improvement, I will deem a massive success. The device put in place is called an Adjustable TransObturator Male System. As for my recovery, it seems to be going well, but sitting as yet is nigh impossible due to the pain in my nether regions, which are not blue, but rather black. The point of entry for the operation was between my anus and scrotum, where I have a four-inch wound. It is improving, and I can now sit on one of those swimming noodle configured in a circle when required. It should be said, I am making the most of it with Rozanne catering to my every need. I don't have breakfast, but I have morning tea in bed, just as I do for lunch. I lie on the sofa for supper, watching TV, including last Saturday's rugby, which was a bit of a letdown, especially the New Zealand versus the All Blacks match. The Americans' technology for replays and the actual filming was well below par for that typically produced by rugby-playing nations.

It was my birthday this week and Rozanne kindly made me a cake. Thank you to all who sent me birthday wishes; it was much appreciated.

Unfortunately, the referee, although not biased, added to the general poor event, which I had thought was going to be a spectacular clash of the titans, becoming one of continuing errors. It seemed to be a game of who could drop the ball the most. Yes, I am getting better, you can tell by my whinging. I'm really looking forward to the France vs. South Africa game this weekend. It is sunny again today, after a week of rain, with the wettest day being Saturday, when 64mm of rain was recorded.

So, yesterday I had the catheter out, and there is an improvement, but how successful we will only know in a few weeks once everything is settled. The apparatus may need adjusting. The good news is my prostate cancer is still in remission.

With nothing more than a sore arse and nothing better to do than reflect on my life and where I am in it at this time, within my blog. As I am about to write (I always have to change 'talk' to 'write' as I am obviously not talking about this), my move to Zambia, I reflected on it as a significant change in my life, as if losing the farms wasn’t enough. I then thought about the other significant changes in my life, not well-remembered incidents, good or bad, but real-life changes. Changes that I would call truly significant led me to recognise four distinct stages. All bring happiness, sadness, loss, and, importantly, opportunity. The first stage I reflected on was my childhood and my teens. My upbringing and education. My early years on the island of Mull, being too young to realise my mother was terminally ill, but rather enjoying the freedom it gave me at the time. Then her passing and the trauma of losing her and gaining a step mom, then boarding school, where you were forced to learn something far from the farms, sheep, cattle and fishing. My love for fishing is the one common denominator in every stage of my life. The merchant navy gave me a yearning to return to Africa, and Auchuncruive (West of Scotland Agricultural College) gave me the academic basics for my farming future, and if I am honest, my groundwork for consultancy and fund management. Our course was very much focused on management, not just husbandry but also financial. One of the best revelations I had in life was at agricultural college, where I learned, unlike school, that I could pass exams. I have no doubt it was because I hated school but loved agriculture. 

My father doing what he liked most, showing livestock, leading an Aberdeen Angus bull at the Oban show.

“If you enjoy what you do in life, including your career, you will be more likely to be successful. To be successful in something you do not like, be it sport, business or sadly even your marriage, is normally beyond the willpower of most of us.” - Peter McSporran 

My mother who died before I could save memories of her.

The next stage was my move to Rhodesia. I am not going to say then Rhodesia, it was Rhodesia. What a fortunate move. It offered many opportunities, and I succeeded in many things far beyond my childhood dreams.

“If you achieve or exceed your childhood dreams, I presume you must concede your life has been a success, no matter what others may think of you.” - Peter McSporran

My time farming in Rhodesia and then Zimbabwe were the happiest time of my life. It had been a dream to own my own farm, which I achieved in Zimbabwe. I grew tobacco successfully and other crops, but my favourite was cattle. After attending all the agricultural shows in Scotland with my father as a child, I never dreamed I would become a senior cattle judge. As a child, I looked on them with awe as they chose the animal that would forever enhance the reputation of the winning producer. Even the army, which was horrible at times, especially during basic training, added much to my life and, importantly, my confidence and ability to lead and manage people. To this day, I reflect on my days in the bush war with more fondness than hatred. But do not let me kid you, lying in ambush through a long night in the cold rain in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts covered in camouflage cream was not much fun, worse even than a contact. He searched to engage for weeks, and then they always seemed to happen so fast that you could only reflect on the detail afterwards. 

“The army is where you learn to trust and rely on people for their actions, not on their civilian background or reputation. Their actions and your actions create an unbreakable bond. This bond is enhanced by shared danger.” - Peter McSporran

Watching my father, in the foreground, pull in the salmon nets on the River Ba on Killiechronan with my late sister, Morag, also watching on.

But while Zimbabwe made the majority of my life almost magical, along with two fantastic daughters, Storm and Janine, it also brought sadness, including a broken marriage and the loss of my life’s work up to that time, my farms. With that event, I chose to move to Zambia, which brought me a new lease of life; perhaps if I had remained in Zimbabwe, I would have failed through alcohol and complacency. At fifty-two, I had to reinvent myself and return to work, just as I had when I started farming on my own, working a minimum of twelve hours a day. What a challenge, but luckily in moving there, it made me realise it is lonely in a strange country without a partner. Despite being avowed to remain ‘a born-again bachelor’ when Rozanne asked me to marry her, I agreed. I not only gained a wife, and as it turned out also a business partner, she also brought Selby into my life, whom I am more than happy and proud to call my son. In Zambia, I had my fair share of successes and failures, as you will learn, but it was to become my hub for work throughout Africa, where I visited places, met people, and experienced cultures I would never have thought of, let alone encountered.

The fourth stage of my life has been our time in Portugal, where I plan to stay the remainder of my life. This choice was definitely influenced by Rozanne, who was scared I would continue working and not retire. Surprisingly, she said she wanted more time with me. You live and learn every day. I worked from here for a few years, but unfortunately, ill health caught up with me. That is my four designated periods of my life: my upbringing and education in Scotland, living in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, living in Zambia, and finally, Portugal. I had no choice in the first one, but the other three, perhaps brought about by circumstance, but the choice was mine. I have no regrets. 

“By putting my life into time, compartments driven by personal choice seems to make it easier to grasp how lucky I have been in life despite the sorrow, hardship and failure.” - Peter McSporran 

Enoch Kavindele

Now that John Knight and I had decided to focus on offering farmers an opportunity in Zambia, we now had to set about putting things in place to enable this. As I have written earlier I had struck up a close relationship with the then Vice President of that country, Enoch Kavindele who was very keen as a farmer himself, to see the full revival of commercial agriculture in Zambia where there were many pieces of land lying vacant or underutilised with title that were with the owners desperate to lease or sell as they had to pay a rent to the state for the land. In 1975, under Kaunda’s Presidency, all land in Zambia was nationalised and belonged to the state, with restricted use to foreigners and only with special permission from the state. Some hardy Europeans had hung on and remained there to this day, but many left, often taking up farming in Rhodesia at that time. Then in 1995, under the Presidency of Chiluba, leaseholds became available again to anyone, and importantly, they were freely transferable. It started with renewable fourteen-year leases, and then it transitioned to ninety-nine-year leases. So, although the land belonged to the state due to the terms and security of the lease, the banks were happy to take them as collateral in raising loans, both capital and working. Would a similar policy have done a lot less harm in Zimbabwe?

“The one certainty in Africa when it comes to agriculture, historical lessons, good or bad, are ignored by the political incumbents of the time.” - Peter McSporran

We also shared our plans with the Minister of Agriculture, Mundia Sikatana, who hated Mugabe and what he was doing, and his deputy, who became a good friend with whom I shared many a beer, Chance Kabagh, the then Minister of Finance, Emmanuel Kasonde, and, through the Chibesukunda family, the CEO of Barclays Bank, Margaret Mwanakatwe. All of these indigenous people of Zambia were keen supporters of the idea of revitalising Zambian agriculture, a country that imported nearly all its cereal and oilseed requirements at that time. They were a strong base, and between us, we thought the British would be interested in supporting the idea, as the past colonial power of both countries. How wrong we all were. That's for next week, along with a funny story about a phone call in Sikatana’s office, which makes me smile even today.

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