The other week, several friends of mine, mostly from my college and working days, could not believe that I was really spending most of my retirement at Chalowe, my ancestral village in Wanging’ombe District, Njombe Region.
Their surprise followed last Saturday’s Palaver piece, in which I mentioned as much. It also arose from the fact that, throughout my life, I have always been known as a mtoto wa mjini – an urbanite.
Let me assure everyone, including the faithful readers of this column, that yes, I do spend most of my time in Njombe Region and I love it.
Present-day Chalowe is far removed from the sleepy and underdeveloped agricultural village of yesteryear. It has changed dramatically.
Apart from the developments 1 described last week, including the government-run English-medium primary school, the outskirts of the village are now dotted with impressive buildings housing the Wanging’ombe District Commissioner’s Office, the District Council offices, the District Police Commander’s Office and the District Magistrate’s Court.
There is also a new Ikulu or State House, Road leading to a modern residential complex for senior government officials.
It should be recalled that the district was established only 14 years ago, in 2012. Nearby is an ultra-modern district hospital, as well as the fast-growing town of Igwachanya, which accommodates many employees of government institutions, banks and the growing number of public and private service providers and commercial establishments.
What I love most about the area, however, is the peace and tranquillity that prevail throughout the district.
Imagine this: Even at the height of the national unrest around 29 October 2025, residents of the district organised a grand farewell party for the Officer Commanding District (OCD), who had been transferred.
They ate, drank and danced and presented him with gifts in appreciation of his efforts to keep the district safe and make friendly community policing a reality. It was truly a stark contrast to what was happening in many other parts of the country.
I know that I am also ageing gracefully, I hope – and it is perhaps no wonder that I have come to appreciate this tranquil environment.
I have gradually accepted the new reality that, out of every 10 people I meet each day, eight greet me with ‘Shikamoo!’ – the respectful Kiswahili greeting offered to elders. Initially, this unsettled me.
And do you know what? The residents of this district are extremely hard-working.
A first-time visitor might believe that a strict daytime curfew has been imposed whenever the rains arrive in this part of the Southern Highlands. Suddenly, all the houses are locked during the day. The children are at school, while their parents are hard at work on their farms.
Come the harvest season, the entire area takes on a festive mood. Weddings are plentiful. At Chalowe, for example, we now have at least two weddings every week. There is eating, drinking and dancing everywhere.
It is no wonder that almost every village in the area has at least four enormous warehouses to store the abundant annual maize and bean harvests.
The other day, I was abruptly woken by unusual festive noises at midnight at my establishment – I run a small lodge and pub in Chalowe.
I soon discovered that a group of about 20 drivers, whose 15 or so semi-trailer lorries were parked along the highway outside, were enjoying drinks in my pub.
They were on a mission to transport hundreds of tonnes of maize from my village to Malawi, where thousands of people have been displaced by the conflict in neighbouring Mozambique.
In appreciation of their support for our local agricultural economy, I offered them 40 litres of our local bamboo wine, ulanzi.
Most of them were members of the Sukuma community. They happily drank, danced and sang the night away. I was equally delighted because, besides the contribution their business was making to our thriving agricultural economy, the 40 litres had cost me only TSh 5,000.
So, are you looking for a tranquil life? Welcome to Chalowe village!
