Desperately Seeking Simon
This story comes from a close friend. It grabbed my attention immediately, not just because he is a friend, but because the depth of his caring has helped reinforce my belief that there is hope for us all yet.
Some years ago, he employed a gardener called Simon. He was a rare breed - one of those people that you like as soon as you meet them. Over the years I got to know him quite well on visits to my friend’s home, and on the odd occasion when he came to help us out with a special task. He was the proverbial gem - polite and hardworking, with an air of wisdom about him. It was surely one of God’s unfathomable mysteries that had made him accept the menial post of gardener.
After about five years, Simon was summoned by his father. His father was a Veteran from the Liberation War, and had been allocated a piece of land as a gratuity. His father was getting older now, and could not continue developing his small farm. Accordingly, he called his son to take over from him. Just to take the shine off the deal, the farm was in one of those real undeveloped middle-of-nowhere places that had a dodgy rainfall record. It was about 400km away by road and about 250km North of Bulawayo as the crow flies. Simon’s elder brother had actually refused his father, but Simon - being Simon - reluctantly but dutifully agreed to his father’s request. To our shame, I have to admit that we all tried to sway Simon’s decision, but he would have none of it. My friends finally and sadly accepted the fact that he was leaving. We all pitched in and gathered together for him all sorts of useful tools and materials that would help him set up a home and a new life, and said a tearful goodbye to Simon, his wife and two young children. We heard nothing from Simon for some time, but about 6 months later my friends finally received a letter from him. It was an upbeat letter - he and his family had been blessed with a good rainy season, and were literally reaping the rewards of their hard work. Some months later, came another letter. Simon had taken the plunge, and taken up a position as a Christian Minister in his rural home area. His family were leaving the farm in the hands of a co-operative, and following him. All seemed set for him.
No-one heard from Simon for about two years. But, this is Zimbabwe - there are few fairy-tale stories to be heard - unless you listen to Gideon Gono and his financial plans for the economy! Drought happened to drop by, closely followed by political devastation of the economy. Late last year, another letter arrived from Simon - bad news this time. He was in serious financial difficulties, and could someone help him to get a job? My friends wasted no time in welcoming him back, and he arrived in early December, leaving his family at their rural home. He settled in and things were going smoothly until Simon received a message from the co-operative who were running the farm. They had a bank account, but their signatories had left and could not be traced. Could Simon, who was still a signatory, come and help them sort their account out? It really was urgent! True to form, Simon agreed to go back to the farm and help out. He would also visit his family on the way back. Reluctantly my friends gave him an advance and he left on a truck that was heading past the farm.
That was the last they heard of Simon until about 10 days ago - nearly 2 months later! They had been extremely worried - Simon was not the kind to take the money and run. Was he sick? He often had recurring bouts of malaria in the rainy season. Had he run out of money? Had he been robbed or injured? All the awful pictures sprang to mind! The longer they waited, the more they worried. Then came the phonecall! It was from someone who they had never heard of, calling from a place they had never heard of, near Simon’s rural home. The caller said that he had received a letter from Simon, who had asked the caller to contact his employer. Simon had run out of money, the caller said. He had found his family on the verge of starvation, and had spent all of his money buying food. He was now stranded with no money, no transport, and was running out of food. How could they help Simon, my friends asked. The simple answer was - money! If they would just transfer money to the caller’s bank account, he could then draw it and give it to Simon, and all would be okay. How much money was their next question. Oh - about four or five million should be okay, came the reply. Four or five million! They gasped - inflation is hitting them hard, and that was still a large amount of money for them. What would he need that much for, they queried. Well, he explained, first there is the bus fare back, which is about one and a half million. That sounded right - a trip of about 600km with the black market price of fuel running at over Z$200,000 a litre! And the rest? Well - you know how it is in the rural areas, went on the caller. Ordinary people are not allowed to buy maize from the Grain Marketing Board depot - only people with political clout are allowed to purchase grain - at the subsidised government-controlled price. They then resell it to the “ordinary” people at a fat profit! The current price for a twenty litre bucket of unmilled grain was Z$800,000! (It sells on the black market in Bulawayo for about Z$300,000!) Their blood ran cold!
I blew my top at this news! How can you not get angry at such a blatant, murderous abuse of power! Villagers in an underdeveloped and impoverished rural area have virtually no hope of finding this sort of money! Without outside help, they WILL starve to death, while those with political clout will live to deny their part in what can only be called genocide!
My friends were now in the most awful quandary! How could they help Simon? Should they borrow money (they have a big family). If they did that, could they really consider sending money off to a total stranger in the middle of nowhere in the vain hope that some of it might get to Simon? We talked it over with them. It was probabably true that Simon and his family were stranded and short of food. But then, was this person - the caller - with both a phone and a bank account, a real friend? Or was he another of those with “political clout” who had figured out a way to take Simon’s starving family for their final ride?
Our thoughts and prayers are with Simon and his family, wherever they are now. We are desperately trying to track down a relative, to try and find another way to get in touch with Simon, so that we can help them. Please pray with us that we get there in time!
March 28th, 2006 21:36
Why is everything so depressing? WhaT do people live and hope for?