Road Memories of an Old Traveller: Jack Purvis

From Great North Road

By: Gordon Dixon

There were more or less twenty three miles and exactly five drifts between Ndola and Luanshya or at least, so it was in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and twenty-nine. The road or to be more accurate a long and winding series of pot holes joined together by short treacherous lengths of mud or laterite had previously been the only link between the Ndola rail-head and the mining camps.

The drifts were small rivers perhaps some would call them brooks but certainly they did measure up to Lord Tennyson’s conception of one. If it had been necessary to wax lyrical about those five drifts only the author of "Eskimo Nell" could have done them justice. Such parts of bridges that went over the drifts were made of surrounding trees. Some of the drifts did not even boast of a bridge these were fords, some time a dry and sandy depression at others a raging muddy torrent. Every piece of machinery and equipment had to be carried over this road before the single rail track to Luanshya was laid.

Strange and wonderful were the vehicles used and just as strange and wonderful were the people who drove them. Henry Ford earned the undying respect of those who sweated and cursed every inch of the way between Ndola and Luanshya, even the ox wagon served a term, somehow or other the job was done, the machinery arrived for the mines and the cases of whisky reached the miners.

Since then the road has been remade a number of times, with each successive road it became a little straighter and more and more of the natural hazards were removed until today we have about the most lethal stretch of macadam in Africa. Looking back I can no longer be sure that the old road, despite the pot holes, drifts, fallen trees and occasional wild animals was not a much safer proposition than we have now.

In nineteen twenty-nine one could say that it would take between two and three hours to reach ones destination. Today of course it is only a matter of minutes but the present destination is far from certain, apart from those concerned with morbid pathology it has lost much of its interest.

Though not often, wild animals were encountered on the old road, antelopes of various species were not uncommon and from time to time we saw the large predators, naturally there were some delightful stories about leopards and lions, some were no doubt true, others to be taken "Cum Grano Salus". The one I like best concerns a Luanshya resident who decided to spend an evening enjoying the wild exciting night life of Ndola, needless to say this was a pub crawl. To begin with one could crawl from one pub to another as there weren’t many of them and they could easily be distinguished by their characteristic hum of activity, the sound of breaking glass and the sound of many voices raised in discordant disharmony indicated that the bar was doing well. If one stayed long enough it was eventually necessary to crawl out under the stars and search for the car. New comers to the copperbelt will note that of all its institutions the pubs have changed least of all however in those days men were men and liquor was cheaper and I believe a lot better.

Having consumed his fair share, our worthy citizen of Luanshya set out for home in the early hours of the morning, some where along the road whilst travelling at a reckless forty miles per hour our happy citizen collided with a leopard, presumably being human our man stopped. Sure enough on shining the indispensable torch back along the road there was a leopard lying half in and half out of the bush. He reversed far enough to have the spotted one in his headlights, there it lay absolutely still, cautiously he got out of the car and gently kicked the motionless leopard, certainly it was dead.

Already he was considering where he could display the pelt so that it would greatly impress his friends, he was turning over in his mind the wonderful tale he would relate, how at great personal risk he had vanquished the fearsome leopard. Screwing up enough courage he bent down and rolled it over, then after a lot of effort he got it into the car, half on the back seat and half on the floor, highly elated he continued on his journey home. He had not gone very far when he chanced to look back, presumably to admire his magnificent pelt. This time however, the pelt was sitting up and there was every indication that there was a live, if slightly dazed leopard inside it.

Obviously the journey could not continue under those conditions, one of them would have to get out, at that point in time the leopard gave no indication it wished to alight. Our citizen remembered that he had actually kicked the beast that was occupying the back seat of his car, more over he had knock it down. Most likely leopards are not of a forgiving nature, all things very quickly considered he decided to stop, get out and leave his magnificent pelt to continue the journey alone if that is what it wished to do, as for himself he would climb a tree and hope that at least some leopards suffered from vertigo. In the cold light of dawn he descended from his perch and examined his car from a discrete distance. It seemed as if the leopard had recalled a previous appointment at least, his was much larger game than that which got away from his friends.

From time to time people died on the road, not as many as today but no less tragically and more keenly felt by the smaller population. Perhaps the most tragic accident of those days occurred during the second world war, a lady taxi driver, she was actually the proprietress, was driving six young air men of the R.A.F. from Ndola to Luanshya. It was fairly late at night and they were in a hurry. In those days there were three level crossings and now and then a train would carry goods to Luanshya and copper to other ports, as now, the trucks carrying the copper or goods were generally painted a light grey, there was no need to say that with locomotive and guards van out of sight the trucks blended with the road, three heavy goods wagons with a full load of copper were derailed and none of the occupants of the car lived to tell why they were in such a hurry.

If roads could blush for shame then certainly that road would blush, worse still if it could talk, the divorce courts would be over burdened. There could be a very good case for the introduction of television in Zambia, some citizens can now see how bad other peoples morals are and in consequence have less time to practice what they see, on second thoughts I am not sure that television sets are as popular as they could be. The first mile or so out of Luanshya appears to have a great attraction for some people.

The present Queen Mother of England and I timidly suggest Scotland has travailed over this road, many years before her, Prince George made the same journey from Ndola to Luanshya long before the tarmac was put down. Apart from royalty a lot of other people have made the journey, more than enough travailed in one direction only, others had to walk to Luanshya and some years later drove away in an expensive motor car.

Not only has the road changed, the people who use it have changed, no longer does the dignified head of a family walk proudly along the road closely followed by his wife sometimes wives and children, the men carrying a stick or such weapon as means and circumstance would allow, whilst the wives and children carry each other and all their worldly goods. On the infrequent approach of a motor vehicle they would step off the road and watch the noisy contraption pass, father would salute the occupants of the vehicle who would invariably return the salute, there was never a question of subservience, it was an exchange of salutes among equals. Perhaps courtesy and mutual respect were more readily understood than appears the case today. Now the vehicles move too fast for their occupants to catch more than a blurred glimpse of anything or anyone on the roadside, as for pedestrians, if they are wise they will avoid the road unless they are possessed of an irresistible urge to depart this world. Indeed the road has witnessed many changes, some travailed over it to prosperity and happiness others have made the journey full of bitterness and regrets and more have fled over those twenty three miles with a host of creditors in pursuit.