After completing my secondary school education in 1973, I went to live with my uncle in Chalowe, a small agricultural village in what is now Wanging’ombe District, Njombe Region.
Chalowe borders the nearby village of Igwachanya, which was also small at the time. Life there revolved around the Catholic mission station, with its imposing church building, primary school, health centre and carpentry workshop.
It goes without saying, therefore, that Igwachanya was comparatively more developed than Chalowe, whose main features included an old, grass-thatched Lutheran church and what was then known as a bush school, catering only for Standard I and II pupils.
For the young boys and girls of Chalowe, however, Saturday was a very special day. It was the day when Father Ponda-or Padre Ponda, as we called him-from the Igwachanya Catholic parish would drive his Fiat pick-up truck to Chalowe, loaded with mitumba clothes from Italy and distribute them free of charge to the village children.
Whenever the truck arrived, scores of children would rush out of their homes and surround it. Padre Ponda would gladly hand out children’s dresses, trousers, shorts and shirts.
In time, the Italian priest, with his distinctive moustache and beard, became the Santa Claus of Chalowe. Subsequently and not surprisingly, many parents and their children joined the Catholic Church.
Being a ‘grown-up’, I would stand at a distance and watch this weekly ritual. In due course, Padre Ponda noticed my presence.
One Saturday afternoon, he approached me and struck up a conversation, wanting to know more about me. That was when he learnt that I was a secondary school leaver awaiting my call to undertake compulsory National Service training with JKT.
He persuaded me, if I was willing, to become a temporary member of staff at his primary school in Igwachanya.
I agreed and was soon teaching Geography and English to Standard VI and VII pupils. My pay was a free lunch.
I must admit that I enjoyed my brief stint as a volunteer teacher. I identified several potentially brilliant pupils in the two classes and encouraged them to work hard in their studies in pursuit of a brighter future.
Fast-forward 44 years to 2017. I was passing through Morogoro on my way from Arusha to Njombe when, for reasons beyond my control, I had to spend the night there.
Late that afternoon, a colleague and I went for a meal and drinks at Mountain View in Msamvu near our hotel.
After the meal and drinks, I asked for the bill. To my surprise, the waiter informed me that it had already been settled by two gentlemen seated in one corner of the bar.
Guess what? The two men had been among that promising group of pupils I taught in Igwachanya. They were now lecturers at Sokoine University of Agriculture (SUA). Naturally, we spent the better part of the evening drinking and celebrating our reunion. What a small world!
As I write this column, I am seated on the verandah of my residence in Chalowe. I can clearly see the corner of the now-tarmacked road where Padre Ponda used to park his truck.
Chalowe has since changed dramatically. It now has a modern church, primary and secondary schools, three modern lodges, a medical clinic and even a government-run English-medium primary school. The village also has access to running water and electricity.
Indeed, we have come a long way!
