Page 28 - Number 2 2021 Volume 74

16 The Society of Malaŵi Journal

She taught us, her children, how to learn. She often knocked her Biro
(ball point) pen over our heads when we were not pulling our weight or thinking
straight. Her teaching methods were really creative. I recall our daughters, Lucy
and Lisa saying they finally understood how the international dateline worked as
she brought such simplicity to the concept. Granny knew how to make things
make sense. The most uninspired student who felt they could not learn, often
ended up embracing the process.
Mum started the first Sunday school program at St Francis Chapel at
Makerere University in Uganda, in the late sixties. She always made sure that the
little children had a meal of bread and juice. They were also fed with the word of
God.
In every county, and country, we lived in she was a well. Mum walked
several miles to make sure we her children enrolled in school when we had just
moved to Kenya. From those schools she tutored children and sometimes
counselled their mothers if they were going through challenges. With the earnings
she made she was able to get us better educational and other social opportunities
that broadened our horizons. Things like tennis, swimming, and piano lessons –
things that I know helped us get a broader education.
Another morning call and Mum can read in my voice if my day is going
well or not. It always felt like she could see right through me, even on the phone.
I could never keep anything from her. Was I having a tough day? Was I worried
about a child? Was I concerned about her?
I hear voices in the background. Our Aunts Faye, Elizabeth, Nima or
Catherine. Any one of them or others would be passing by to say hello and have
a breakfast or a cup of tea with her. How strong those bonds were!
When she was ill, I was always concerned about her. Dr. Chipolombwe
was always present for medical consultations and a laugh. He was like a son to
her. Always left what he was doing to be there for her on a whim. His family was
the same. He worked at the Mumbwe Clinic that was founded by our Uncle Austin
Mkandawire and Aunt Faye and has amazing staff that supported both mum and
dad during their time in Mzuzu. The doctors in Nairobi, Kenya and more recently
in South Africa were also very impactful on both parents’ journeys.
During those calls about an illness on her part, she always tried to sound
like she was fine. On this day she isn’t so well, and I hear it in her voice. She is
not improving from the ailment she has as she is more concerned about how Dad
is doing as he just spent a couple of weeks at the hospital after a fall. She is more
honest about the situation this time because she has not been able to eat and keep
things down for a while now.
After several tests – all the ones that are possible to do locally – I try to
convince her to take a trip to South Africa to see our gastroenterologist friend, Dr.
Moses Balabyeki and his wife, Princess, an intensive care nurse. She won’t budge
until my husband, Andrew, discusses the seriousness of her condition. This time