Tale guide

Radio Malawi

From the early sixties and for some 30 years, several regional wars raged in Southern Africa.

In Mozambique the communist backed Marxist Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (Frelimo) fought the anti-communist insurgent forces of the Mozambique National Resistance (RENAMO).

South Africa supported the anti-communist National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA) who fought the communist backed People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) in Angola.

The communist backed African National Congress pursued an insurgency war against the South African Apartheid government from basis within countries such as Lesotho, Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia from the early 1960s until peace was declared in 1990.

From 1964, the Communist backed Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army and Joshua Nkomo’s Zimbabwe People’s Revolutionary Army fought Ian Smith’s Rhodesia, supported by South Africa, until Smith’s Rhodesia ceded power in 1980.

The combination of these conflicts created a tense, troubled and often dangerous Southern Africa during these years.

This story took place at the height of operations during the latter conflict and has been retold around the campfire many times over the years.

I hope the written narrative will be as good as the spoken one.

Chichewa is a language spoken primarily by the people of Malawi, and some parts of Zambia and Mozambique.

Malawians are amongst the most gentle, kind and hospitable people in all Africa and they do full justice to their country’s slogan “The warm heart of Africa”.

When they translate to English in the spoken language, they often have a habit of expressing the letter ‘L’ as ‘R’ and vice versa, which results in a rather amusing and disarming manner of speech.

And so, on one very dark night, as it often is in the African bush, a small Rhodesian Light Infantry patrol settled down for the night, deep inside the Rhodesian bush, close to the Zambian border.

They had been out on foot searching for tracks of insurgents and had two more days left before returning to base.

It was against all combat regulations to carry a transistor radio on patrol.

Sound travels very far in the bush at night and one would run a grave risk of giving away one’s presence to the enemy if they picked up on the same.

But the men were battle hardened and equally frustrated at the absence of any kind of news on developments in the outside world, particularly as it may pertain to Rhodesia and the way forward.

The two officers dug out a shallow pit in the ground each and lay down with their heads inches apart. Between them they placed a small transistor radio and set the volume so low that only they could pick up the sound with their respective ears only centimeters from the radio.

They squelched through the lower shortwaves in search of the BBC world service or any such like transmission through which they hoped to glean something of value and importance.

Suddenly they came upon a clear signal and held their breaths in eager anticipation of hearing what they had found.

“Welcome to Ladio Marawi” said the announcer, “broadcasting from the Brantyre, the commercial capital in the warm heart of Africa”.

“Today, ladies and gentlemen”, he continued, “we are cerebrating the birthday of his Excellency, the Life President, Dr H Kamuzu Banda”.

“The people have gathered here today in their thousands at the Mount Soche Hotel in Brantyre in order to participate in the cerebrations for his Excellency, the life president, Dr H Kamuzu Banda”

“Now,” he paused as if collecting his thoughts, “there are two menus for this special occasion. One menu is for his Excellency, the life president, Dr H Kamuzu Banda and his entourage and a second menu is for the ordinary people”.

“Now,” he paused again, “let us take a look at the menu for his Excellency, the life president, Dr H Kamuzu Banda. Firstly, the starter. It is a soupoo. A tomato soupoo. This will be followed by a grilled Chambo. This is a fish unique to Marawi and found only in Rake Marawi”.

A further pause for effect. “The main course will be rosti duckie with clanbelly sauso”, the announcer continued and then paused once again before continuing.

“I don’t know what is this cranbelly sauso” he exclaimed, “but I think it is something you eat…”.

The soldiers switched off the radio and smiled silently into the night sky. “Only in Africa”, they simultaneously thought.

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