Do you remember the smell of the African bush after the first rain? Flying ants and sausage flies all over the kitchen floor, chongololos wriggling and curling up on newly wet earth. Damp clothes hanging on racks near the wood stove. The sound of jackals yipping and yapping at dusk as they prepare to go hunting. Do you remember the sound of the cows being milked? The spray of milk hitting the side of a tin bucket. The sight of buckets full of warm milk, white foamy bubbles on the top. Do you remember the wild bushfires at night, the bright orange glow lighting up the sky? Do you remember the taste of scones hot from the wood stove dripping with fresh farm butter and home-made strawberry jam with a spoon of thick cream on the top? Do you remember the sound of children chasing each other and running up and down the lines of a crop in the field, their laughter hanging in the dusty wind? Can you see them, playing under the wild fruit trees, sucking on muhachas or mahobohobos or sitting in a wheelbarrow or ox cart going to feed the sheep or cows? These are the images and memories that need sharing, remembering and reliving to ground us and give us comfort.
This is my 962nd Letter From Zimbabwe since March 2000 when lawlessness was unleashed and the Title Deeds and Property Rights of farmers were rendered worthless. For you, the readers of 26 years of Letter From Zimbabwe, it all began with my book “African Tears.” But what happened before then? What was that funny, happy “African Tears” origin story with all those wonderful memories, the scares and frights, the giggles and laughing, the amazing neighbours and their sometimes eccentric friends and strange tenants? Long ago I had promised myself that I’d write a book about it one day …. and now, 26 years later, I have written that book.
“A Hammock Under the Zimbabwean Sky. Stories from a time of innocence” has been a long time in my heart and mind. It is a story of the happy times, of fun, laughter, learning and sunshine on the farm. A time before mobile phones, email or internet. A time before politics and lawlessness. A time when it was just farming the old-fashioned way with 6 employees, 2 oxen, and a little white Landrover called Stompie.
No You Tube to learn from, no Google to ask, just books, neighbours, experience and an unflagging determination to succeed. Home alone for nine months of the year with a little boy, learning to be a livestock farmer, bottle feeding calves and lambs, coping with crazy creatures and snapping geese. Wild fires and pounding rain; pythons and curly chickens; green cream soda and sweet buns at the farm store; collecting tadpoles in a jar, sunburnt faces, smiling dogs. This is the story of where it all began, the story before “African Tears.”
Without you, the readers of 26 years of Letters From Zimbabwe, I would never have been able to keep telling you the stories of life here since March 2000. My new book is for you, for all of us, for the Zimbabwe that we remember, that taught us, nurtured us and put Africa into our hearts and souls forever.
I hope you will love “A Hammock under the Zimbabwean Sky” as much as I have loved writing and remembering it. Please visit my website https://cathybuckle.co.zw/ or click here to order: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/cathybuckle2018
There is no charge for this Letter From Zimbabwe but if you would like to donate, please visit my website.
Until next time, thanks for reading this Letter From Zimbabwe now in its 26th year, and my books about life in Zimbabwe, a country in waiting.
Ndini shamwari yenyu (I am your friend)
Love Cathy 2nd October 2026. Copyright © Cathy Buckle https://cathybuckle.co.zw/
My new book, 2026 Photobook and 2027 Calendar are all available from https://cathybuckle.co.zw/ or https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/cathybuckle2018