Springtime? The Big Brother House and Separation Fund.

We had a brief few days of spectacular sunsets before the rain returned

The daffodils are out, I have pruned all the stone fruit trees except for the cherry trees. Pruning our mature cherry trees is a task beyond me in my doddery old age. I am rather unsteady up a stepladder for any length of time. Meanwhile, we have had our first braai, or rather barbecue, as it was called at an English friend's home, so I presume Spring is definitely here. I cannot remember feeling the cold during my childhood in Scotland, but I can remember really feeling very cold during my first winters in Rhodesia, as I do here in Portugal.  

“Perhaps it is due to an expectation of the mind that you feel the cold more in countries that are deemed to have warmer weather than the country of your birth, despite it being much colder.” - Peter McSporran

This is what happens when Google Maps misleads you. This truck firmly jammed in our village trying to follow the diverging caused by Kristin

We also went to watch our local rugby team, Lousa Rugby Club, play on the weekend. We have been before and have missed out on not going more often, especially when your team is winning more often than not, as is the case this season. Once again, it was at the initiative of another new friend here in Portugal, Nigel Jones, who asked us to accompany him. Just a little nudge from a third party can make your life much fuller in your old age. Talking about rugby, my brother-in-law, Rob Cary, in Australia, informs us he has bought us, yes Rozanne and I, tickets for us to watch Togo versus Zimbabwe in Townsville at next year's Rugby World Cup, in October. Seems very far away in time and distance. Should I go or should I not? Will I be around? How will we get there? By some detour, or will things in the Middle East have returned to normal? I say, will I be around because prior to the last one I had been diagnosed with my second cancer, my doctors telling me I had a hard time ahead. And here I still am in this world being my annoying self, as many tell me. If nothing else, I agree with Rozanne, who is enthusiastic to attend. Let's plan for it and make the final call as we get closer to the departure date. I have had my latest blood tests this week, and see my stomach surgeon next week, one step at a time.

“In life, no matter how old, it is always good to have something to look forward to. Funnily enough, when you are young, you cannot wait for that event to arrive, while in old age you hope it does not come round too quickly; the days go fast enough without wishing them away.” - Peter McSporran

As mentioned in my previous blog, by April 2002, I was firmly ensconced in Zambia, living in what was to become known as ‘The Big Brother House,’ in Jesomodine, Lusaka. Chris Thorne, my new business partner, his wife Rose and their youngest son Duncan were the only permanent residents at first, although for a while Marc, Chris's oldest son, came and assisted us in preparing a database on all the farmers that had approached us with the intention of considering Zambia as an option for their new lives. He also assisted in preparing due diligence and document tracking tools, which became essential in our business, as each due diligence required documentation and copies of a large number of documents. Sharna Farquar, who had been helping John Knight run the Zimbabwean side, decided to leave shortly before John Knight and Ernst and Young exited from the enterprise. I should mention that, during my separation from John and before Chris became a full partner, I received a surprise large legal bill for my share of preparing the agreements between Barclays, Universal Leaf Africa, and ourselves, including the one I had with Ernst and Young. To say it was almost beyond my means at that time would be an understatement. It had been sitting at Ernst & Young unbeknownst to me for a while, and although I knew it existed, I did not know the quantity of the sum involved until I collected the documentation after our separation. It was a price to pay, and pay I did to Atherston and Cooke; although expensive, I am sure Lindsay Cooke charged us a special rate. Another debt I had incurred was by moving the combine harvesters I had bought in partnership with John Glanfield from Ballineety’s daughter, Cathy Townsend, and which I managed to get through the border before they closed it to the export of agricultural equipment. Of interest, Chris had also managed to get a couple of loads of equipment through on the back of his Nissan UD trucks before the avenue was shut, and like many was to see most of his farm equipment rot in storage in Harare, to nobody’s gain. 

me working at my desk in 'Big Brother House.'

I was having a hectic life, looking for working capital for our new farming operations after a drought in our first year, seeking funding for our proposed dam, and finding farms for our new settlers while at the same time doing due diligence and preparing all the documentation for each application. Big Brother was not only our offices, which were on the upper floor, but also the place to go for networking, for business, and in the evening, a social, and a bed-and-breakfast for many of the applicants. It did not take long for some to realise that it offered cheap accommodation, and, if clever, you could make use of this while gleaning the knowledge Chris and I had garnered for free in the bar which we set up there. Perhaps we were naive, but even with the knowledge that many had no intention of using our services, I doubt if we would have turned them away. It made for a very impersonal life, and in April that year, I saw Beth Bedford, the lady I had been seeing before my move, for the last time. She was making plans to move to Singapore. Although I was going back and forth to Zimbabwe, I now rarely saw her. While out of Lusaka, I had three places to choose from to spend the night: Riverside Lodge in Choma, Frangilla Lodge in Chisamba, run by ex-Kenyan farmers, and Forest Inn in Mkushi. No matter when you stayed in these venues at that time, you would bump into displaced Zimbabwean farmers looking for a new home, all telling their personal tales of woe, violence and loss. Meanwhile, in Zimbabwe, those who were still undesignated hung on in for the inevitable to happen.

Creigh McMillan

With the increasing number of applications, it soon became obvious that Chris and I could not handle the workload on our own, so he invited Creigh McMillan to run our administration. Creigh had run the Bindura syndicated Mapunga Silos, a grain storage and marketing facility built by the Glendale, Bindura and Shamva farmers. Creigh, at that time, left his wife, Pam, back in Harare and lived, like me, almost permanently in the Big Brother House as a bachelor. For the fieldwork, we employed Jamie Campbell, an ex-Zimbabwean farm manager who had spent some time in Zambia seeking an opportunity while working there as a manager. He was very gregarious, enjoyed his beer, knew Zambia well, and, unbeknownst to us, while in our employ, continued to look for opportunities, though he never fulfilled this dream in Zambia. 

“Funny how in this world, to some the next opportunity is always better, and that is just around the corner. Unfortunately for some, it is a never-ending corner.” - Peter McSporran

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