The Sabbatical Diary: May to August 1997

After 25 years in the church it seemed right to take a break. The Diocese were offering sabbaticals to those who had been more than ten years in ministry, so I could get some funding and I knew that USPG would give me some too. The Ecclesiastical Insurance Group were offering bursaries for study as well and that made it possible to think about a return to Zimbabwe. I hadn't been back since we left in 1987. During my time in the Lake District I had started looking at Celtic themes and began to see parallels with African Spirituality. I was interested in the way people left doctrines and dogmas behind and were developing spirituality in response to their lives. So I put together a proposal and was accepted. Angela and Len Thomas lent me their bungalow in Harare and Barry and Brenda Venn lent me a car.

May 1st – 3rd

I began my sabbatical by going to Iona Abbey for three nights. Iona is the place where Columba established his monastery and is a place of pilgrimage for people from all over the world. Many return with a Celtic cross from the gift shop, others with a pebble from the beach, still others with a story of St Columba in their hearts. 

The planned week at the abbey had been cancelled which enabled people like me, who phoned up on the off chance, to get in. So the group that met at the abbey were from a variety of different countries and offered many varied experiences. A Maori woman minister from New Zealand struggling with issues of race and gender; a couple from Australia who worked with Aborigines and who told us that the Aborigines had not been given human rights until 1969 - until then they had to defend themselves in court using the mistreatment of animals act; a South African priest who had seen the dramatic changes in that country over the past ten years; a Dutch worker with those dying from AIDS; a couple from Northern Ireland involved in small signs of hope in their own divided community; a group from an inner city housing estate in the north-east; and an American who was searching for inner peace for whom all the talk of struggles for justice were just too much.

As the stories were told and pain shared it became clear that spirituality is not about doctrine or dogma, about rituals or institutions, but about people and their struggles. Anything the church has to offer has to relate to that search for meaning, and peace can only be truly found in the context of community.

As we walked along the beach Peter Millar, the warden, asked me to lead a session on Celtic Christianity the following day. I had no notes with me but I pointed to the role of story and poetry in the tradition, the involvement of the priests with their people, Patrick and Columba appearing before secular leaders and confronting them, and the central place of healing and God's power in the life of the church: the whole of life lived in the presence of God.

Sat 17th

Another part of my preparation was to attend a workshop on the mbira at the London School of African and Oriental Studies given by Chartwell Dutiro and Kristyan Robinson. The mbira is the traditional Zimbabwean instrument used to call up the spirits in ancestor worship. During the workshop Chartwell spoke of the spiritual continuity of Africa down the ages where God's power and healing had been handed down within the community. He reminded me of the loss of that tradition in medieval Britain when 5000 traditional healers and midwives were burnt as witches; and the failure of science to answer the search that most people have for spiritual growth. The institutional churches too have failed to respond and instead offered a rational, intellectual formalistic approach or an exclusive triumphalist one. A holistic view of spirituality and culture is largely absent. He gave me a contact in Zimbabwe with a couple of Spirit Mediums that he had played for and told me that they would be happy to meet me.

Fri 30th

The plane out of Heathrow was delayed. There was no slot into Belgium. Not that we wanted a slot into Belgium, just to overfly. But that was also impossible. So we waited. As there was a two hour wait built in to the schedule at Frankfurt it didn’t matter much. What mattered more was being trapped on the flight to Johannesburg by a burly German who ordered two beers and then left them opened on the tray while he fell asleep. For eight hours. It always seems to happen to me. Three years later I was trapped in a window seat by the South African rugby team. After that I always insisted on aisle seats.

So I had to put up with just sitting and watching the film – Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow which is based on the Greenlander’s ability to read from the snow what has happened. Which fitted in a way with the whole purpose of the trip – one of the features of Celtic and African spirituality is the sense of place and of being who we are in a landscape. Spirituality emerges from the context.

As usual I didn’t sleep. I never do on long haul. But as the film didn’t end till 2.00am and we were woken at 5.30am for the descent to Jo’burg the night didn’t seem too long.

Sat 31^st

An hour at Jo’burg and then the same plane took off for Harare with the 30 remaining passengers. Again as usual, there were no steps available at Harare so we had to wait some more.

Rob and Val Wood met me and gave me a lift to the bungalow I was borrowing from Angela and Len Thomas for the duration. As the Zimbabwe dollar is not a convertible currency I couldn’t change money before I left, so we tried to find somewhere open, but as it was the weekend there wasn’t anywhere so Rob lent me Z$150 to tide me over till Monday.

After they left I went to Avondale shops to buy food and spent $100 on the basics.

Then back to catch up on some sleep. 11 hours of it. With a strange dream about accidents and phones that have strange buttons I can’t understand. Maybe relief at a safe arrival and the prospect of all the calls I need to make to sort out an itinerary for the next three months.

Sunday 1^st June

I woke too late for church so laze about for the day. Take the car (borrowed from Barry and Brenda Venn) up to Lake Chivero. Harare is spreading out beyond Heroes Acre in what seems a largely unplanned way. Get in to the park at local rates – about £3.50 – by greeting the guy at the gate in Shona, but even that takes the rest of Rob’s money so I hope I can find somewhere to change some more early on Monday. Lake Chivero much as it always was. But I can’t find the rhino. Then at Crocodile Creek I notice that I have a flat tyre. Good going as I haven’t been in the country for more than a day. As I haven’t seen another car in the park I just hope the spare is OK and that there is a jack. I am then fairly grateful that the rhinos and crocs don’t turn up while I change the wheel in an area where you are not allowed out of the car.

I venture a little further into the park but with no spare and no other cars around I decide it is best to leave. On the way out I meet a safari vehicle and they tell me where the rhino are, but I decide to go home.

That night I sleep for nine hours. And dream that I am in a building that is falling apart but no one else seems to be noticing. Just like the CofE.

Mon 2^nd

I contact Barry about the car and get his National Tyres Account number. So I drop the car off and go in search of money and a map of Harare. The streets are very crowded; The English Patient is on at Kine 2. The bank charges £6 to change £30 so I need to find somewhere cheaper if all my money isn’t going to be used up in commission. In to Kingston’s to get a map. Then back home.

Contact James Gardom at Gaul House Theological College where I hope to do some teaching and in exchange get some stories. He invites me over. We discuss a programme and James invites me to join them for Mass, but as it is at 6.am I’m not sure how often I will make it. We meet George Wauchope who was the general secretary of the Azanian Peoples organisation in South Africa. He has been doing research into healing which he is writing up and agrees to see me on Friday. We also meet Clare Nyandoro an American feminist, and some students including one from Raffingora.

They are all off to the Bernard Mizeki Festival so I book myself a place on the bus.

We get talking about Arthur Shearly Cripps and James points out that they have real problems trying to encourage giving in his churches as he simply paid for everything.

The college backs on to the Jesuit college at Greenbridge. So I go to call in on the Jesuits. Patrick Moloney, Victor de Waal’s contact, is in the UK so I talk to Brian Porter and he gives me some more contacts.

Tues 3^rd

Angela and Len’s daughter Kym does beauty therapy at the house and I am expected to make myself scarce. So I go in search of Esther de Waal’s friend Estelle Reynolds who is not in and there don’t seem to be any workers around to ask. So I drive out to Chapungu sculpture park. I manage to avoid the Z$5 (50p) entrance fee simply by talking to the guy at the gate – it usually works in Africa. There are several thousand sculptures in various groups. From Z$2000 to Z$65000. I don’t think I will buy here. Tengenenge is much cheaper.

But I speak to several sculptors about their work. Eddie Masaya, who is becoming quite well known, talks of communicating with the stone, letting its spirit tell you what to carve. He’s scathing of the commercial sculptors who turn out things for the tourists. He has a couple of workers who do the rough work and we talk of artists who sign work done by others.

Then I found an openly commercial sculptor turning out nudes for tourists. He has no pretensions to be spiritual, though his grandfather who taught him was. He is just a commercial artist who thinks others tell people what they want to hear.

Then I went to visit the onsite spirit healer. He says he was an Anglican until he was possessed at the age of 28. He was very clear that he only helps to heal and bring people together and never uses his gift to do harm. He was also very clear that he would never accept payment, but was not averse to receiving gifts. I was not too comfortable in his presence, despite his assurance that he was on the side of good, and so declined his offer to read the Hakata, small wooden blocks carved with symbols which resemble Celtic knot work.

With time to spare before I could safely go back to the house, I went to the new Westgate shopping centre. As a mall it was hassle free, unlike Avondale where you are harassed by people who want to clean the car (more of which later) or sell fruit and veg. It also had banks that changed money at half the rates of Harare centre.

The bookshop was cheap as well. Lots of glossy picture books of Zimbabwe at under £20.

Back at the house Angela has the tenant’s agm and then Len arrives for tea. They are off to South Africa and then the UK.

Wed 4^th

Kym’s not in today so I can catch up with reading and writing things up. I’ve found some Jesuit diaries from the turn of the century about life in Lobengula’s Kraal. Needless to say they had a very poor view of African life even though they tried to appear sympathetic. They thought that through disease and punishments (usually beheadings) the African races would die out – much as SPCK had thought about the Native Americans.

Inuus Daneel on the independent churches is very scathing of some of the previous commentators who said that these churches were not Christian. They pass every test he can think of, and those they fail the mainstream churches would fail too.

I meet up with Bella Mukanyora, head of religious studies at UZ. She has contacts with the independents and will help me to contact them. At the moment she is up to her eyes with marking so it may have to wait a couple of weeks.

In the evening I went up to the theological college to a lecture. But as the lecturer doesn’t turn up I am left to give an impromptu introduction to what I am doing. My first official session is tomorrow.

Thur 5^th

Eva came in at 5.30am to switch on Kym’s wax. I go off at 8.30am for the first of my introductions to Celtic spirituality for the students at Gaul House. Esther de Waal had been there the year before but they don’t seem to remember much of what she told them. We get on to discussing the nature of God and the ancestral spirits. Some of them don’t seem to see a difference between African tradition and Christianity. All one came up with was, “it’s more up to date”.

On to Estelle Reynolds. She’s in this time but busy, so I arrange to visit later next  week. Then on to the Wadzanai Training Institute. St Mary’s Hurst Hill had given me some needles to take to them. Met Sr Margaret who is a friend of Esther de Waal and Estelle Reynolds. She wants a day on Celtic themes as well.

I sit and watch the birds on the botanical gardens at lunchtime and then get told off by Eva who thinks I am not eating as there are never any dishes to wash.

Fri 6^th

The last of my seminars for the week produced some useful ideas about sacred pools (Chinhoyi caves); hills (Domboshawa) and trees (Bernard Mizeki, where pilgrims wind strips of bark around the trees to mark their presence); and creation as a gift – you only take what you need from the bush, if you take more the bush will hold you until it is gone.

Then I went out to Borrowdale to meet George Wauchope. His research looks at healing in the mission churches but also the independents and traditional religion. Like many he supports writing special liturgies for special occasions from an African perspective but apparently the Anglican liturgical commission was dropped among controversy. Not because they were too African but apparently they didn’t emphasise the “Lordship of Christ”. He also tells me about the appointment of a Bishop where the candidates both went to Ngangas to put a curse on the other and both had car accidents which put them out of the election. But both of course opposed African liturgies.

More reading in the afternoon. In Zambia the missions ignored the copper mines because they accepted the (white) government view that the miners were temporary residents. So the African workers started their own United Church. But when it became successful the whites came in and took it over. As they did in West Africa with the churches set up by Wade Harris.

I did try cooking but it wasn’t a good idea. One mouthful of Colcom hamburger and I spent the rest of the evening in the loo.

And in front of the TV. Which now seems to be full of very old American films; reruns of Neighbours (a welcome return of Kylie); and dreadful Christian soaps about schoolgirls learning to say “No” and adults trying to work out if they can marry someone who is outside the faith (fundamentalist evangelical that is). One US preacher on Psalm 23 – The Lord is MY shepherd; I shall not want. Personal salvation is all, he said – anything about community is communism. The movie was “Terminal Island”. The dialogue was terminal – what was left of it after the censor faded out anything vaguely rude.

Sat 7^th

Finished notes on Brian Castle on hymns.

Then off to Raffingora to Nigel and Shiona James. They are doing well. Now almost entirely making terracotta tiles for floors and bathrooms and fireplaces. Most of their house is redone in them. Daryl came to supper and was very OTT. Stoned when he arrived and more drunk as the evening progressed. He took us back to his cottage to watch a video “Naked Tango”. Very art house and obscure but Daryl raved about every scene and he insisted on tangoing with Nigel and Shiona. I excuse myself on the grounds of physical dyslexia. He seemed very disappointed when I declined to stay the night with him.

Sun 8^th

Woke up to bacon and eggs at 10.am Then Nigel took me to another tile works at Gombera Ranch. In ten years my sense of direction had gone. I thought we were on the way to Guruve, but in fact we were on the Mhangura road. Nearby was a private game park and we drove around looking for sable. Giraffe and kudu and lots of impala but no sable. As a result of bouncing through the bush we had a puncture (seems to be the story of this trip).

In the afternoon watched birds at their dam and then an evening of scrabble.

Mon 9th

Nigel and Shiona rush about and I go off to Tengenenge. A new road to Guruve saves the dirt road which used to take ages. But the turn for the sculptures is simply marked “Art Centre” so I pass it and was on the dyke before I turned back. At the turn there is a group waiting for lifts so I pick up a couple who are going to the centre and they show me the way.

Thousands of sculptures fill the hillsides. The artists are numbered up to 500 and each has 100 or so sculptures on display. Prices are much better than Harare and I promise to return with the family in August.

I take lost of photos and then when someone asks for a lift to the main road I take advantage of a guide and return to Raffingora.

Wed 11^th

To Estelle Reynolds. She had invited me to see her centre as a place to go to rest and refresh but when I got there she only wanted to talk about what I could do for her. She asked a lot about Sue, I think Esther had written her up a bit in her letter to Estelle. She imagines we will do a joint workshop which I resisted as I don’t know what Sue will want to do and I want August to be largely holiday.

Estelle is doing up her garden in a pretty but unnatural way. A rock pool and a chapel. We agree on a date 26^th July. Having told me that the plan for the day is up to me, she then outlines what she wants. Talks not “workshops”; and a blessing of the chapel and a “celebration” lunch. So I don’t know how much time is left to me.

But she did give me the phone number of her former driver who is a member of the Apostolic church.

At UZ I meet Jameson Kurasha. He was meant to give me an introduction to National Archives and the University Library. But we talked for so long we both forgot about it. He was very interested in what I am trying to do and will try to contact the independent churches on my behalf.

Then long phone calls trying to track down Davison Kwaramba. St Mary’s Hurst Hill gave me US$100 for him. I eventually discover that Davison’s niece, the person I am trying to call, is deaf and dumb. In the end I speak to her brother in law who will take the money.

In the evening a lecture at the college. This time on marriage law. The most interesting comment was about a farmer who buys a field, plants his seed and harvests his crop, then abandons the field when it is no longer productive. Whether that is how it is or how it was meant to be I didn’t work out. The only other fact of the evening was that it is cheaper to divorce than have your partner die on you.

Thurs 12^th

Two very different seminars on prayer. The first continues the discussion about traditional versus Christian; the second is about prayer, intercession and healing. I fail to get them to write their own prayers, they prefer to take down my examples. We talk about the ancestral spirits. They see them as intermediaries and talk of the tradition that you don’t approach your elders direct but pass gifts around through an order of seniority. For these students at least, the ancestral spirits are more like Roman Catholic Saints.

Still trying to track down the mysterious Davison to give him the US$100 from St Mary’s. I phone and leave a message and then in the evening he phones to ask why I haven’t phoned.

Then off to find the General Secretary of the Zimbabwe Council of Churches. He is out and won’t be back till next week. The Bishop is also not available till Tuesday; though when I tell the Bishop’s secretary what I am doing, he asks if I am still a Christian. So I go to Mambo Press to see if they are still any good, but they don’t even seem to stock their own titles. So back to Kingston’s to buy cards for Alison, whose birthday and graduation I am missing and John whose birthday is coming up. Then into the Cathedral until I think Kym will have stopped her treatments and I can return to the house.

Fri 13^th

Up at 5.00am to try to get to mass at the college. They sing a couple of English hymns in Shona but apart from that it’s ASB as usual and no effort to make it African.

But in the seminar year 3 get into African Traditional religion and tell me about fire and the building of a hut. A cross was placed on the doorposts long before Christianity arrived and symbolised the connection between earth and heaven. The first fire is lit by a respected relative to symbolise the spark of life in the new home. A sense of place is central to African culture and explains much of the disputes over land occupied by the Europeans since the nineteenth century. Farai has even written a prayer which he is sending off to SPCK for their anthology.

Another fruitless journey in search of Davison who fails to turn up as usual. Instead I go off to the shops and buy an mbira for Z$350.

The evening is with Kym and Blaize. Blaize has just left Christian Science and is now part of a fellowship in Ruwa who spend their time watching films that prove evolution didn’t happen and that the end of the world is coming.

Sat 14^th

Another wasted day with people who don’t turn up. So I buy “Mukiwa” Peter Godwin’s book on growing up in Zimbabwe to make up for it.

Sun15th

Communion at the Cathedral. The 7.30am congregation are just leaving as I arrive for the 9.00 service. The cathedral was packed but only half a dozen whites who all seemed to be visitors. The service is in Shona but the English text is printed on the opposite page and so it is easy to follow. The hymns the same old English favourites to Victorian tunes – when will the Anglicans in Africa produce some new lively hymns! But the sermon was inspiring. Simukayi Mutamangira, who is Dean, preached in Shona and English so seamlessly that all could understand him. All about love from ‘bone of my bone’ to the cross. Not much mixing over tea afterwards. I arrange to see Simukayi tomorrow.

I go off to Borrowdale in search of the Apostolics. They meet under the trees outside the racecourse. When I arrived they seemed a long way from the road and I was reluctant to leave the car and walk across. There was no group where I had been told to expect them. I went round the shops and met a couple of textile printers who Alison might be interested in. Then a Wimpy and chips (the English abroad eh!) before another look for Apostolics.

So to reflect on the first couple of weeks.

As usual I spend a lot of time on my own. With a few exceptions, among the whites I meet there is little understanding of what I am trying to do. They are as usual immensely generous to me but there is no meeting of minds about the nature of society which remains very separate. I think Barry and Brenda expected me to get out to see them (they had lent me the car after all) but I wanted to get stuck into the research and follow up with personal visits later. Vince as usual was pleased to see me. When I arrived on the farm I told them to say that ‘the runt’ was back. He immediately dropped everything to meet me.

Meanwhile, as usual, those I am with for research stick to the subject in hand.

Mon 16^th

I turn up at the Cathedral to find Simukai has a queue of others waiting to see him so the secretary, who I knew from 1987 suggests I come back later. When we do meet he talks about his selection conference and he gives me some more contacts. Some of the numbers I had were wrong which explains why I couldn’t get people. He mentions Canaan Banana who is now retired after a bodyguard made accusations about him. He has just written a book suggesting the Bible needs to be rewritten for Africa.

It takes all day just to see one person. But at last I have the papers from the University for the National Archive and can get to do some digging.

Tues 17^th

The same pattern with the Bishop – Jonathon Siyachitema, also chair of National Railways which he seems to prefer to the church. He looks bored after five minutes and I leave after 15. He doesn’t seem worried that I have arrived on his patch without USPG getting in touch with him. (Perhaps they did and he has forgotten)

Then a phone call from Malcolm Williams (my replacement at Banket) inviting me out there for the weekend. I will go to see him and arrange something for July, after the college retreat.

I go off to Mukuvisi Woodlands for lunch and then more reading in the afternoon.

Wed 18^th

Off to the Zimbabwe Project to talk to Paul Nyathi. He tells me about a community tourism project at Victoria Falls. He assures me it is complete and just awaits bedding.

Spend the afternoon finishing the books from the college and for a break go out to Cold Comfort farm. It is interesting the things we missed when we lived here, but that is part of the reason for coming back. I meet up with Mushoriwa and Mutsauonabaya who are printing cloth. They want me to market their cloth in the UK. It is a bit expensive but there are other good things in the gallery. Mushoriwa is part of a Pentecostal fellowship and we talk about what I am doing. Mutsauonabaya simply agrees with everything, either out of politeness or maybe his English isn’t as strong.

Thurs 19^th

Sessions at the college are going well. This time looking at the dynamic Bible Studies I have been using. The first years are more creative than the second years. Both are very church based. I try to get them away from doctrine and look more towards politics and society. But they are at least opening up and not simply quoting clichés. In particular they have a healthy scepticism about their church leaders.

Went back up to Estelle to fill in details about the day I am doing for her. I mention that Joel has not been back to me and she phones Europcar to try to find him. He promises to come to her tomorrow.

Still trying to track down the ZCC. I go out to them at Hatfield, near the airport, but the person I want is not there. Hang around for an hour and then go back to the house to find Angela and Len en route to the UK. Later get into trouble with Debbie for not opening the security gate fast enough when she returns Len’s car.

Friday 20^th

Finally meet Joel and find he is with the Apostolic Faith Mission and not the vApostori (Estelle doesn’t understand the distinction). But I agree to go to his church which will still be interesting.

Joyce Kwaramba (Davison’s deaf and dumb niece!) phones to ask where her money is. Apparently I didn’t turn up – when I had actually waited an hour for her. Anyway the money is not hers but her father’s, actually I thought St Mary’s meant it for her uncle but never mind, it will be out of my hands. So I finally meet her and part with US$100. She doesn’t seem grateful.

Buy the Telegraph Weekly, which is published locally and so is not a week out of date like the Guardian Weekly. Catch up with Blair outdoing Thatcher – closing schools, refusing to fund hospitals and opening prison ships.

Sat 21^st

The college go off to the Bernard Mizeki festival and take me with them. The singing starts as soon as we leave the college and only stops when we reach the shrine. There the choir do most of the singing. There is a crowd of several thousand and the service lasts for three hours. I try to record it but there is not much impact on tape. So I do lots of networking. Tim Neill and Sebastian Bakare who I knew in the 80s; and Mark Nicholls who met David at Selly Oak. He is now based in Bulawayo and is prepared to lend us his house in Bulawayo when we go on our travels. I also meet Leonard Mamvura who is guardian of the Shearly Cripps Shrine at Maronda Mashanu and agree to visit him in July. I hope I will be able to find him as the directions are as usual very vague. Then I met up with Weston Muringani who was my catechist in Banket. He is still there but doesn’t say much about Malcolm Williams. He says they always remember my day at Muriel with the PCCs when the African congregations hosted the white farmers. I said I assumed it had become part of the routine and he replies that it has never been repeated. Muriel Mine congregation is apparently in decline but the other churches continue as usual.

I choose to travel back in the bus, despite offers of lifts. We go via Glen Norah to drop off one of the students. In college he has been enthusiastic about modernising the church and liturgy. But when we get to his house his wife brings tea in to us – on her knees. It’s OK to be progressive in theory...

As we drive through Highfield there are lots of vApostori on the road, they meet in a school there.

Sun 22^nd

I join Joel and the Apostolic Faith Mission at Hatcliffe. As usual I am one of the first to arrive at the time the service was supposed to start. Gradually others drift in as the choir lead a time of singing, free prayer, prayer and praise in tongues and dancing. Then the service proper gets under way with an MC asking for testimonies, most of which are sung. The newcomers, including me, are introduced.

Then the young people present an item on peace leading into a very animated sermon from a pastor in training.  The theme is about sharing and serving and is interspersed with ‘Amens’ and ‘Alleluias’ from the congregation. In contrast to the rather subdued singing at the festival yesterday the singing is exuberant and enthusiastic. Each song leads into the music of tongues, both prayer and praise.

I had arrived at 10.00am and the service finishes about 1.30pm.

Mon 23^rd

Off to Westgate to buy some books. I m trying to get some for Ali, Dave and John for when they arrive in August. Then I finally get off to see Barry and Brenda Venn to thank them for the car. Brenda is keen to talk about religion and what they are doing on the farm. They have built a church there now for the workers. But Barry seems more interested in sports on satellite. But he does take me up to see their new dam and I go out there again on Tuesday morning.

Tues 24^th

After a morning at the dam, I get off to see the Williams at Banket. The rectory is much smarter and neatly decorated than it was when we were there. I discover that on the 13^th I will be on my own at Banket while Malcolm is at Raffingora. I offer to do a drama workshop with the youth at St David’s to prepare for the service.

Back in Harare I meet up with Sue Chapman to arrange to take over her flat for a week while the Thomas’s have friends in their house next week.

From what Brenda and Malcolm and Sue say there seems to have been little change in the attitudes of the rural white community. They still stay in their own separate community and remain divided from the rest of the people. The excuse that they don’t speak Shona seems a bit thin after 100 years in the country and the attitude that they don’t want to worship with the “labour” is still around. And because there is no contact there is no understanding.

Wed 25^th

I finally manage to get through to the school where Dominic Mandere is based. I leave a message for him and then try to get through to the Fambidzano organisation in Masvingo. They link 100+ independent churches in development work. And a call from Bella to say we can go together to the vApostori on Sunday week.

In the afternoon I watch Dances with Wolves on Len’s video player.

In the evening is the next of the lectures at the college. This time Paul Gundani on Islam. He focuses on a newsletter from Operation Mobilisation which claims that Zimbabwe is to become an Islamic state with Sharia law. The only evidence to support it is that they want to open Islamic schools and have chaplains in the forces – something that Christians have taken for granted since forever.

Thur 26^th

Years one and two are still concerned about Islam. They take the view that it should be banned. I try to argue that Christianity has to be big enough to stand the competition otherwise it is not worth believing in.

Then I met with Chad Gandiya about the retreat. He had assumed that James and I had sorted it out, but I haven’t seen much of James.

Back at the house I am told that two men from Domboshawa are looking for me. They are from Dominic Mandere and had assumed that I was a student out from the UK and they had come to fetch me. I explain that I have meetings tonight and tomorrow am but will drive out then and stay till Saturday. Saturday is a day when Dominic will be possessed so I don’t know what I am letting myself in for.

In the evening I go up to Borrowdale to take a counselling training session for George Wauchope at Christ Church Borrowdale. They are the parish healing team but haven’t done any formal training. I take them through the Clinical Theology dynamic cycle and the ask me to come back to do a proper course next year.

Fri 27^th

Arrive at the Gaul House chapel to find no one there. James is away for a couple of weeks and the students take advantage and miss meditation before the service starts. The plans for the retreat are still vague but it will no doubt happen somehow.

To Mandere Kraal to Charwell’s friends Dominic Mandere and Dominic Katanha. When I arrive DK has gone to the school to look at the children’s books. I look around the village and meet DM who is a tobacco farmer. There are several families in the village, some patients stay while they are being treated and there are a couple of refugee families from Mozambique. One of the tobacco workers gives me a run down on the farming set up. There is a big shed to air dry the tobacco as well as a grading shed.

People come from all over Zimbabwe to see the mediums for healing. They are given herbs to drink/wash in and are taken to the river or to a waterfall for healing as well. The nearby hills are the home of the spirit Mhondoro and are owned by Mandere which is why he is so powerful.

DKarrives and invites me to go with him for a healing at the river. But I am not to take pictures or to record as the spirit hasn’t given me permission.

Just as dusk is falling we go down to the river Mau, and there two of the patients strip naked and are anointed with oil on forehead, hands, feet and chest with the sign of the cross, in the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit before plunging three times into the water. Dominic Katanha remained on the bank praying to the water spirit to help cure them. In cases of possession the patients are led to a waterfall where herbs and roots would be sprinkled in the water before it cascades over them. Treated water is also given to bathe in or to drink where prolonged treatment is necessary. I think of the sacred pools and rivers and wells of the Celtic world (Glastonbury, Bridge of Dochart) where healing becomes possible. While DK repeats the process with a woman, the newly clothed man and I turn our backs and have a conversation. DK has said the man is completely mad. He doesn’t seem so to me.

Back at the village I am fed in traditional style – ie far too much. Sadza and greens. No meat here. Or any sauce, usually there is a type of gravy. As a guest I have to eat my fill first as the others watch. I do my best but the quantities of sadza always defeat me. Then the elders eat, and then the patients, the women and children presumably eat last. The two mediums are never seen to eat.

I am given a hut to myself for the night and rest for a while before the evening begins.

That evening the mbiras and shakers start at about six and go on late into the night. We sit around the dare, men to one side, women on the other, eyes smarting from the smoke of the central fire while the music and dancing gets ever more feverish. One of the women is to inherit the spirit of an ancestor and is to take her name. She sits on a mat and a cloth is wrapped around her while Mai Chiweshe prays that the spirit may come, that she may accept the responsibility now laid upon her to continue the work her ancestors began. She is given her grandmother’s name. All in the name of the creator God without whom we can do nothing. I am allowed to record this part. At 10pm I leave to try to get some sleep, difficult even two huts away. I am glad to have brought a duvet from the house as it gets quite cold at night.

Sat 28^th  

I am told that DM wants to speak to me (as Sekuru N’gundu Chaonza) in the morning session. I am invited to sit close to him on the floor of the dare. As he arrives we all clap rhythmically as he moves to his place.

To my cynical western eyes I can’t see the change that everyone else does in DM as he arrives now possessed by the spirits. He is robed in black but to me sounds the same. He does though have a cheeky twinkle in his eyes as if he knows what I am thinking. Unlike the tourist medium at the sculpture park he doesn’t use the Hakata or shells. Instead he has snuff and balls of tobacco and beer for the spirits which are burnt or poured out from time to time.

The ceremony seems like a counselling session more than anything.

A family have come to give thanks that their children’s education is now completed satisfactorily. They too thank the ancestors for all that they have done to form the foundation on which the children have built. Even the family dog gets a look in and is robed to signify the spirits of past hunting dogs coming on him to bring future prosperity to the family.

Beer and tobacco are offered (by being poured out, not consumed). The prayers are in the name of the creator god (Mweya Anoera – Holy Spirit) and Mai Chiweshe makes it clear that it is not by our power that anything happens, but by the power of God alone. So the ancestors are not seen as a source of power either, they are seen as more like the saints in protestant tradition - a source of inspiration, but not to be worshipped of themselves.

At Mandere there are no threats or curses. As the two mediums were brought up as Christians (as an RC and Salvation Army) Jesus gets a mention too. The warnings of the future are not so much threats but predictions that if the ancestor’s ways are forgotten then disaster will follow for family and community.

Most of the talking is done by the leaders rather than by Sekuru. But he takes over when presented with a man who has fathered several children by different women without marrying any of them. Two of the children have died and he has come to Sekuru for advice. He is told quite firmly that his lifestyle is at fault and he should sort himself out first then come back and he might be offered help.

Some of the men of the village have been helping themselves to the beer and are quietly becoming oblivious to what is going on (it’s still only 9.00am). And Sekuru notices that I am starting to fidget, after two and a half hours sitting cross legged on a baked earth floor. He suggests I might like to go for breakfast.

In the kitchen hut is a woman who has come from Marondera. She has had an operation which left her unable to walk or eat properly. She thinks the surgeon left something inside her. Since she has been using the herbs Sekuru gave her in her bath her walking has returned but she still has problems eating. She is busy popping pills and I wonder if the pills are causing half the problem.

Back in the Dare Sekuru invites me to address the meeting. I say who I am and why I am there. I talk of the power of God in healing and some of my experiences when I have prayed for people or laid hands on them. And the need to understand what others are doing so that together we can serve God and the people better. He says that he too heals in the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, in God’s power; then asks who Jesus was. I say I think of Jesus as the Son of God born as a Palestinian Jew among the oppressed of the world who calls us to follow by serving the poorest and overcoming oppression.

Sekuru thanks me for coming and says that he has a message for me from my ancestors. I shouldn’t get angry with those who double cross me and should get a dog. I didn’t know it at the time but Sue was using my absence to plan to move out. I didn’t get angry, but still don’t have a dog.

At about 10.30am Sekuru himself is starting to get fidgety. But like all counselling sessions just as you think the last client has gone another turns up. Eventually they are all gone and only he and I are left. He rises and I clap him to the door in traditional fashion.

Moments later he is back to being Dominic Mandere and chatting to people in the village.

Dominic Katanha takes me off to their new dam and I record an interview with him. He talks of the spirits in the hills. The sacred python and leopard that guide him and guard the hills; the mermaids in the water and how he can turn away snakes by clapping his hands. He also makes the distinction between the witchdoctors with their spells and curses and the healers.

We get back at 1.00pm and I hope to leave but am told lunch is ready. It isn’t but I have to sit and wait for it. I sit cross legged and they say that is how you sit when negotiating lobola for a bride.

At two I get away and am just wondering if I can find my way back to Harare when I have to stop for some cattle in the road. As I stop two men get in the back of the car and say they want to go to Harare. I worry for a moment that it’s a hijacking but I tell them where I have been and it appears they simply want a lift.

That night I wonder about mermaids in the bath but none appear – no such luck!

Sun 29^th

Back at the Apostolic Faith mission to take photos and record. This week there is to be both healing prayer and communion. I am asked to speak and talk of the Spirit moving in all the churches. It’s later described by the pastor as “challenging”. After the service I am asked back to the pastor’s house for a cup of tea which turns out to be a full lunch. Even though I wasn't expected there is always a warm welcome in any house. There he asks me about the problems of being a pastor in England. Intrigued I ask him why he asks. He then tells me that members of his congregation have been writing anonymous letters accusing him of all sorts of things and he finds it hard to cope with. No different from home then.

I was also becoming aware of the stresses on me. The whites I had met would think of the Mandere set up as “witchdoctors” and dismiss it as paganism. On the other hand I could never be fully part of a tradition that you needed to be born into. But July promised to be busy so there was no time to worry.

Mon 30^th

The Theological College retreat started amid the usual confusion. Chad had gone ahead with the food and baggage and was to return for the students and me. I had been told to be at the college for lunch and ready to leave for Lake Chivero at 2.00pm. So I went to drop my stuff at Sue Chapman’s flat so that I didn’t need to go to Angel and Len’s bungalow after the retreat. In the end Chad didn’t get back till 2.30pm and the students piled into the minibus and I followed in the car and we got to the park at 3,30pm. The first of my talks was supposed to be mid-afternoon but had to be rescheduled.

Chad had booked the chalets rather than the lodges which I thought we were getting. That meant there were no proper cooking facilities and the cook, Richard, had to collect a variety of pots and pans from each chalet to make up a set for the whole group.

Tues 1^st July

I’ve programmed the talks so that each afternoon I can get out game viewing. I go up to Bushman Point to the cave paintings. On the way were giraffe, zebra, monkeys, tsessebe and lots of impala; and I find the rhino on the way back.

Wed 2^nd.

In between talks I have put in time for students who may want to talk (they are strictly in silence otherwise). Two students come in. They seem not to have much pastoral training in their course which is largely academic.

In the afternoon I go off to Crocodile Creek and watch the birds – a darter, herons, and kingfisher. There are a couple of waterbuck in the bush.

Thur 3^rd

My last talk at communion marks the end of the silence and a chance to get back at me for the talks I gave. They had been an eclectic mix of Christianity with references from Aborigine, Inuit, Native American and Celtic sources. Looking at creation myths, belonging to the land and the journey to spirituality. Much of it was new to them and some felt I should have stayed firmly with Christianity.

I then take three students out to the bushman paintings and one of them, trained as a tracker, talks of the paintings as maps of the landscape, showing where to find food and where the wild animals are. We go to crocodile creek where there really was a crocodile – all ten feet of it.

The bird tally increases with Namaqua doves; Squacca heron; guinea fowl; francolins and plovers.

I go back with Chad to his house to put my talks on his computer. At first it won’t accept them but I find a publishing programme that does. He wanted to keep the disk but I wasn’t sure what state my own version was in on my home computer and had made some changes since then. I also didn’t really trust the University computers if I did get my disc back it would probably come with several viruses built in.

Back at Sue’s flat I go to explore the Montague shopping centre. The food looks awful, I have been spoiled at Westgate, so I just buy some bacon and beer; which will keep me going for a couple of days. I am happy to walk around Harare at night, at least this bit of it.

Fri 4^th

Off to Westgate in the hope there would be people washing cars, but no one is around (security really is tight) so I just buy food and then go down to Avondale. There they want Z$50 (£3) but I beat them down to Z$35. I should have known better. When I get back he asks if I want him to remove a strip of paint that has appeared on the side. I know it wasn’t there when I parked. There is a blue van the other side of the car park, so presumably his mate has driven his van along the side of my car to get him some more money. I ask how much but he just gets on with cleaning it and then asks Z$50 – seems to be the going rate. As I had already given him Z$35, I offer another Z$10 and he finally settles for Z$20.

Such are the workings of free enterprise.

In the evening I pick up Brian, one of the college students and we go to Reps Upstairs to see Debi Thomas in a play. Zimbabwe theatre hasn’t changed much since I was there and an all white cast perform to an almost all white audience (Brian being the only black).

Sat 5^th

Back to Borrowdale to the Men’s Breakfast where I am to talk of my research. The audience consists of six men, including Ian Smith’s son so I am wary of their reaction. I talk of the need for indigenous theology and the groups that I am meeting. Predictably there is little discussion. James Martin has yet to arrange the promised trip to St Agnes Gokwe so I give him a couple of dates and hope he can set it up.

Sun 6^th

I had arranged with Bella to go to Chitungwiza to some vApostori she knew and went off to pick her up. But she wasn’t answering the buzzer and the security gate was locked. Back at the flat I discover she has left a message at Angela’s to say she is ill and can’t come.

So I go off to Borrowdale to search out the groups I had tried to find before. It seems they have all gone off to Mufakose for a rally but will be back “any time”. After an hour I begin to suspect “any time” means next week so move on to another tree on which there is a sign that says “Jerusarema Apostolic Church”. There I introduce myself to the two people by the tree.

Petros Chisoma says they are the church. There had been an all night prayer vigil and so no one else has turned up yet (it’s 12.30pm and the service was scheduled for 12 noon.). It gave me a chance to talk to Petros and Jaison. Jaison says he had had a vision that I was coming and invites me back to preach properly next week. They say they are expecting the congregation “soon”. Meeting in the open air gives them a freedom they would not have if they were responsible for a building and they feel no need of formal training since "Jesus didn't tell his disciples to go to Bible College". After an hour, as I had left the car at the shopping centre I decide to go back there, get a pizza and then return.

By 2.30pm there are about twenty people under the tree.

Jaison had come to start the church after he left the Zimbabwe Assemblies of God Africa (ZAOGA). He had had too many visions and prophecies for them so they came to a mutual decision that he should set up on his own. His service begins with a time of preaching and teaching from the Bible. I'm invited to confess and am relieved to discover that means they want me to confess my faith. It's so cold in the wind and I'm still not sure of my audience so I leave them disappointed with only a fifteen-minute talk. They insist I speak for longer next time. The teaching is interspersed with songs from the congregation, started spontaneously and sometimes picked up, sometimes ignored. Anyone it seems can speak or start a song, though after three weeks there do appear to be some who teach and some who lead the singing and some who heal, though it doesn't seem rigid.

After the teaching comes an hour of healing. The congregation form a circle and those needing healing sit in the centre while the healers stand behind and lay hands on their heads. Sometimes it is a quiet prayer, often in tongues, sometimes it gets quite violent. The prayer in tongues doesn't seem to be glossolalia in the English sense of an unknown language, but is a continuous stream of disconnected English and Shona words ("heaven, moon, stars, light, Jesus" featuring largely).

During the healing sessions Jaison himself is blessing water, raspberry juice, cooking oil and even washing up liquid and salt. These will be taken home and used by those who are sick, or simply as a reminder of God’s presence in everyday life. Sadza and sand are rolled together into a ball to represent the world and heaven and given to those in need. The sand and the water used to consecrate the ground before the service starts comes from the rivers above Domboshawa - the same rivers which Dominic Katanha used for healing. These rivers and hills have sacred meaning for all traditions. Like Dominic, Jaison asks the snake for permission to pass to collect water for healing and is never refused. I wish I had brought him a pebble from Iona, which he would have prized. White and red and blue wool are also blessed and tied on to the clothes of those who are sick to connect them to the spirit. While it is going on the rest of the congregation stand in a circle and sing a rhythmic song with hand clapping. This goes on for over an hour by which time my hands are stinging with clapping.

The service ends with a time of prophecy when Jaison gives the meaning of his visions. Often it is to encourage the faith, but sometimes to complain that their faith is nominal and that they come simply for themselves without really believing (where have I heard that before!).

Jaison, who is a house worker, gives me his address and phone number.

Note on the weather.

Contrary to popular belief Zimbabwe does get cold. Under the trees the wind was blowing a gale, it was dull and overcast, even though no rain is likely till October. Most houses are unheated and Harare flats are often only used overnight so have very basic facilities. Sue’s flat has windows that barely fit. Only one ring works on the cooker and so even the kitchen fails to heat up. At least Angela’s cooker had a grill for toast. So I have lots of tea and lots of baths to thaw out.

Mon 7^th

Pick up Brian Choto, who is acting as guide, and we set off for Chivhu to find Leonard Mamvura who worked for Arthur Shearly Cripps and maintains the shrine to him at Maronda Mashanu. His instructions were to turn off in the centre of Chivhu and then drive for 7ks. In the end we need to turn a couple of times and his house sign is bleached out so we drive straight past. I am glad to have Brian with me to ask for directions.

Out in the bush it is even colder and there is only a fire in the open for warmth. So one side gets hot and the other freezes. Luckily Brian has brought a sleeping bag and so I can grab his blankets.

Tues 8^th

Leonard has arranged for the MU to meet in my honour and I am expected to celebrate mass. As I haven’t read the Shona service for ten years I am not sure if I get any of it right. Then we all go outside for photos. The shrine is close by. Shearly Cripps refused to live as the other white priests did at that time in a large rectory separate from the people, but built himself a hut just like theirs. We are shown his original rondavel. Only the roof has been replaced and the walls repaired and the floor re-laid. Then we are shown the clinic that he built but which was closed just after he died. He also built himself a mini Great Zimbabwe and is buried in the middle of it. I record an interview with Leonard and ask what had been special about him, Leonard replied "He was interested in the people". The same was true of the Celtic saints. Columba, Aidan and Cuthbert, were first and foremost friends of the people. Involved in their lives and responsive to their needs. The early white settlers on the other hand were only interested in people as objects to be used, a resource for farming or mining. Shearly Cripps, from a wealthy English family, gave away much of what he had, just as Cuthbert did before him. Where the church cuts itself off from the people and expects them to serve it, rather than it, them, it will die. We go back to the school where the teachers are waiting for us. I talk to them about independent churches. They tell me the “prophets and apostles” are all thieves and liars who are in it for the money and the women. They steal young girls and goats and disappear into the night. I decide not to argue that they are not all like that as it is after 3pm and we haven’t eaten or even had a cup of tea since 7.am. I take their photo and we go back to Leonard’s house for lunch before setting of back to Harare.

Finally after two weeks of cold, the sun breaks through; just in time for sunset.

Wed 9^th

Back in Angela’s house and warmth. It must be 20^o warmer than Monday. Esther’s friend Estelle is off to see a friend who has cancer so my workshop is cancelled. Instead I am invited to do something for the nuns. I decide to wait till Sue and the family arrive and we can do our Celtic show.

Then I discover Angela’s maid has gone to a funeral and I have to do my own washing and ironing. With two weeks’ worth to do that will take up the rest of the day.

Though I do make it up to Westgate to get a video and meet the manager of a clothes shop who tells me of a spirit medium in Marondera who prophecies in French (which he has never learnt) but who like the Mandere mediums tells his patients that they have to do the work of healing themselves - the ancestors can't, or won’t, do it for them.

Thur 10^th

Another adventure. This time to Chitungwiza to find Archbishop Kutsirai of the World Gospel Apostolic Church. It has 10000 members in 20 churches mainly in Zimbabwe. Like most of the independent churches they are very locally based, often a group of neighbours in a street. They focus on preaching and healing as usual but have a more formal structure than most. All this we learn while waiting for the Archbishop to turn up. We arrive at three as arranged. The Archbishop arrives at six. Before he started the church he went up to the hills for 45 days and returned with a staff of office and the rules for the church. He is seen as the successor of Moses as well as Jesus.

The people follow the leading of the Holy Spirit and have a lot of holy places – rivers and hills –many of which are shared with the African traditional religions. They collect water for healing or water washed stones – just as St Fillan did in Scotland. 

When the Archbishop arrives he says he is too tired to see us and we will have to come back.

Fri 11^th

Off to Banket for the weekend.

I call on Vince on the way to sort out a trip to Kariba when the family arrive and discover I am to have lunch with them on Sunday. Malcolm Williams (my replacement in Banket) and his wife Brenda have a joint ministry. Brenda does the school and the women and Malcolm goes around the churches. They are very tied up with religion. There are only Christian books in the house, though I do discover an old copy of Guardian weekly which I read in bed.

Sat 12^th

A dozen people turn up for a workshop on Celtic Spirituality. Somewhere we lose 45 minutes and I have to cut down the time for writing prayers and there is no time for feedback. As we go out for a prayer walk the wind gets up again and it is cold until we are back in the lee of the church. But everyone is very appreciative.

In the afternoon I go to do a dynamic Bible Study with the youth at St Davids. We do the man lowered down from the roof and I ask them what barriers they need to break down; what prevents them from getting to God? They say “the vicar”.

Back at Malcolm and Brenda’s, their idea of a Saturday night is to watch an Alpha video. To escape before that I go off to Dave Johnson’s ostensibly to sort out the service for the morning. There I meet Rita, now married to Dave, and we catch up on children. Sarah is now the spitting image of Anne and Lucy has just graduated from Birmingham Uni. There is a fashion show at the club, but sadly I am already committed to Alpha.

Sun 13^th

St David’s at 7.30am and St Andrew’s at 9.30am. Much the same people as ten years ago. The churches have changed very little apart from fewer people. This despite an explosion of interest in Christianity in the independent churches. The mission churches have not tried to move forward or accept the fact that they are in Africa. And fewer and fewer people are coming.

Vince and Monica are now into the export of roses, as was Dave Johnson. We fix up a plan for Kariba.

Mon 14^th

Off to Masvingo. I am to stay with Peter Wagner. On the way I stop at a wayside stall with wood carvings. They have some from Driefontein, which probably isn’t far away, I can’t remember. But the best is damaged and the carver isn’t around so I can’t barter.

I remember Peter Wagner as a problem when I was in Zim. He wanted to be principal of the Theological College but Peter Hatendi didn’t want him and he went down to Masvingo as Archdeacon where he has been ever since. Staying with him I could see why. A couple of quotes, “every black is either a thief or a liar”, and “the only English words the blacks know are ‘I want’ and ‘give me’.” All in front of his house worker. After 24 years in Africa he spoke little Shona or Ndebele and treated his house worker like a slave. (In 2001 the church worker killed PW and the Guardian gave a half page tribute to PW’s years of service to Africa). Supper comes out of a tin; the house has no personal touches. He doesn’t know Peter Makamba (who I am due to meet in the morning) even though PM is an active member of the clergy fraternal.

Tues 15^th

I am glad to get away from the rectory for the Fambidzano project. The African Independent Churches Conference, which Peter Makamba leads, links 90 churches. He himself is a member of the Zion Apostolic church. The project is along one of those African roads where you have to drive along the tops of the mud between the ruts. The ruts are too deep to get out of once in and would ground the Toyota Corolla I am driving.

The churches are working together on development training including conservation and women’s issues (revolutionary in male dominated African society). They have a holistic approach to creation; accept scientific medicine alongside healing and are beginning a more liberal approach to the Bible. Their faith is the centre of their lives and so what they believe influences the way they see the world and their own community – hence the development projects. When I think back to the refusal of the Anglican’s I met on Sunday in Banket to move outside the churches and engage with society and the issues of reconciliation, I can see why the Anglicans are in decline and the independents growing.

On the way north I am stopped at a road block. I have been told about these. They find a fault with the car, impound it and then it mysteriously disappears from the pound overnight. As it isn’t my car I am a bit anxious but use my usual distraction technique and start to talk about what I have been doing and who I have seen. Sure enough I eventually find a name they recognise and we part as old friends.

Wed 16^th

Go up to national Archives to see if I can dig anything up from the records of early missionaries. But I don’t have a permit from the ministry. No I have letters from the university instead. In the end they let me in for three days.

I find the correspondence of Thomas Morgan Thomas, William Sykes and John Moffat. They spent their thirty years in Mzilakazi’s area fighting over what hymns to sing, how to write down Ndebele and who was getting the best presents from Mzilakazi. Hardly any mention of mission or converts but there is a discussion between Thomas and Sykes. Thomas wants to stamp out “pagan” rituals, Sykes wants to convert people first and then they will drop the rituals anyway.

Thur 17^th

James Martin takes me off to St Agnes, Gokwe.

At St Agnes Mission Gokwe (the Zimbabwe Christian Healing and Manger Centre) Fr. Lazarus has built up a large centre including a school, an aids orphanage and a community of brothers and sisters (Chita Che Zvipo zveMoto - The Community of the Gifts of the Holy Fire). His healing operates entirely within the Christian tradition although he himself was held in some suspicion by many Anglicans who felt that the age of healing had long since passed and that he must be using the spirits to effect healing. Before healing can take place he insists on baptism and confession to prepare the ground and is clear that a battle is taking place between the spirits of good and evil. Fr. Lazarus Muyambi claims that all spirit mediums are "Satan". The healing takes place as God's kingdom breaks through all that would prevent and discourage it. The lack of healing in the churches he sees as a lack of spirituality and a fear and jealousy of those who are close to God. He has come under continued attack from other clergy, jealous of his success. (I mention that I had also been accused of witchcraft when I started healing in the UK.) But he follows Christ's command to go out and caste out demons and heal - "Jesus didn't say go out to say mass". I ask about the “Toronto Blessing” where the people fall down and writhe around. He says they would have rather been healed at the first touch of God. It is important to continue the ministry of Christ and exercise his power in the world. Visions and discernment are an important part of the ritual - he sees light and stars and his assistant Sr. Gladys talks to Matenga (possibly angels, possibly heaven). He also sees the demons that possess some of his patients and physically chases them away. I keep quiet about my trip to the spirit mediums of Domboshawa.

Much of the way is along old strip roads – strips of tar for the tyres of the car with nothing much in between. Everything else is washed away. Which makes it fun when something comes the other way.

Fri 18^th

A day off to recover from the week and to gather my thoughts. I buy the Tonga Book of the Dead to cheer myself up and rent Dead Men Walking.

Sat 19^th.

Another day when I am supposed to go with Brian Choto from the college to Archbishop Kutsirai. But the college is locked up and no one is around.

Sun 20^th

Again Bella Mukonyora fails to take me to the vApostori. I am beginning to feel that I will have to do my own thing with Jerusarema.

I go up to Borrowdale to Christ Church and find out I am preaching as well as leading the service. James plays the organ. In the congregation is someone from Willenhall, just down the road from Sedgley.

Then at lunchtime to Jerusarema. This time I record part of the service and take photos. Jaison asks me to preach. By this time I have discovered the tricks. If you dry up just lift a hand and say “Praise the Lord”, everyone answers, “Amen”.  If you do it more than a couple of times someone comes in with a song while you collect your thoughts and launch into the sermon again.

After Jaison has laid hands on me in the healing session I ask about the language he uses at the time of healing and he says it is associated with the vision that he gets at the time - for me he saw a star and a ball like the moon, water was inside it and in the water a figure like a child (apparently it's a good omen).

Mon 21^st

Back to the archive for more reading.

Then back to the house to get it ready for Angela and Len’s Australian friends who are stopping for tea on their way to the airport. They complain about the hotels they have been in; and about the white’s attitude to the blacks (on the basis that the aborigines are far worse); and about an American couple they met on a game drive. So they seem to have had a good time. I am relieved to drop them at the airport.

Tues 22^nd and 23^rd Wed  

Back to finish off at the archives. The diaries of the first missionaries take on a surreal twist when they drag Mzilakazi into their fights. He tries to mediate between them and threatens to throw them out. They still bicker about who is getting the most ivory. Thomas Morgan Thomas is recalled to England and sacked by the London Missionary Society only to return to Zimbabwe and set up on his own. In thirty years they failed to get a single convert. Also unsurprisingly when I get back to England and try to find the correspondence in London at Partnership House. I discover that it is in the restricted section and I can’t have access.

Then I go to meet Jaison at the house where he works and get him on tape talking about his visions. His employers seem pleased to know that I think his ideas are Ok.

Thursday 24^th

Only a couple of days before the family arrive so I try to finish off writing things up.

Friday 25^th

I get hold of Paul Nyathi and he assures me that everything is still OK at the Community Tourism venture at the Falls. And speak to Bella about my impressions from the visit.

August

The family arrived over the weekend and we prepared for our tour of the country.  But first I wanted them to share something of what I had been doing. So I took them back to Jerusarema for Sunday worship. We did our family show on Celtic prayer at the Wadzanai Training Institute for the nuns who I should have met at Estelle Reynolds’s. And we fitted in a trip to some cloth printers at Hatfield for Alison, who had just completed an Arts degree at Leeds. 

We also went to Weya.

On the journey to Weya, it's 70 kilometres beyond Mucheke in the middle of nowhere, we get lost and have to turn back. After retreating 20 kilometres we see someone we had passed but failed to pick up. It turns out that his home is close to Weya - we had been sent back to fetch him! So with six of us in the car we turn around for the last forty kilometres. Norbert Tambuya is the chief of the area and he gives a running commentary on everything and everyone we pass. He insists that we visit his home and meet his wife and then move on to Weya to see the cloths and the furniture making and talk about sustainable agriculture with Alouis Matongo and Agnes Shapeta. At the end of the day we return him to his wife with profuse thanks and gratitude for traditional hospitality.

Vince and Monica took us up to their boat on Kariba for a few days. Rob and Val Woods lent us their cottage in the Eastern highlands, while we were there a forest fire approached the house but didn’t leap the road. From there we went down to Bulawayo on our way to Victoria Falls.

Luckily I had given the phone number there to Margaret Ling who was visiting from the Britain Zimbabwe Society. She rang to say that the community tourism complex had been destroyed by elephant. So we went from one extreme to the other and stayed at the Falls with Mel and John Dewdney who run a luxury safari camp in the bush. They have hunting rights locally and rich Americans would come and spend a week and US$30000 shooting game. They always thought that they ate the game that they shot but because it had to hang for a few days there was a good supply of game meat in the freezer and we were treated to rich game stews each night.

Then we headed north to Daryl and Nigel in Raffingora, this time staying in Daryl’s house. That gave us a chance to get up to Tengenenge for the sculptures. Then a final couple of nights at Dave Johnson’s before I came back to the UK loaded down with heavy sculptures in the hand luggage which luckily wasn’t weighed, and Sue stayed on for two more weeks with her sister on the Dyke.