Uncle John Fills In Some Details
Because I was so young when we first landed in Dar-es-Salaam, I wondered if some of the memories from my childhood had become hazy with time, and maybe life with my father hadn't been quite as bad as I remembered. It was a relief to have Uncle John to talk to; with his very clear recollections about what had gone on when we were in East Africa, he could clarify details about our lives abroad.
I told Uncle John I always wondered if the way Mum had been mistreated by my father had contributed to her ill-temper now, and her inability to hold reasonable conversations; he said he thought it was perfectly possible. Mum had been physically abused by my father, put down on so many occasions, and not allowed to voice her opinions, so perhaps now that she was no longer intimidated by a violent husband, she felt she was going to say exactly what she liked - even if that something was completely wrong, no-one would challenge her. Sometimes, when Mum is in one of her moods, she will say dreadful things, hurtful things, that I remember my father used to say to her; it is a very strange and sad state, hearing these words coming out of my Mum's mouth.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of playing in the dry, dusty garden, and wearing a big white floppy hat, to protect me from the sun. I felt very hot, and wanted to go indoors, so I climbed up the stairs by the side of the house. When I reached the kitchen, I was surprised to see my father in a heavy clinch with our neighbour, a woman called Marigold; they were so engrossed, they didn't notice me. I would have been about three.
Uncle John filled in so many details for me. He told me, we had not been in Dar very long, before my father took off with another man's wife, Muriel, for a "naughty weekend" in Zanzibar. Quite what the woman's husband thought of it, Uncle John didn't know, except that the gossip was, he wouldn't protest or do anything about it. Many more liaisons with other women followed; for Mum, who was still not 30, it must have been so humiliating. She was young and pretty and, confirmed by Uncle John, loved socialising and dancing; yet here was her husband, ready to enjoy extra-marital affairs with no thought of being discrete about it.
There was no-one to turn to, and no escape. Mum was in a foreign land, with a young child; she was there with her husband, and as such, was the "Engineer's wife." It couldn't have been easy.
I told Uncle John I always wondered if the way Mum had been mistreated by my father had contributed to her ill-temper now, and her inability to hold reasonable conversations; he said he thought it was perfectly possible. Mum had been physically abused by my father, put down on so many occasions, and not allowed to voice her opinions, so perhaps now that she was no longer intimidated by a violent husband, she felt she was going to say exactly what she liked - even if that something was completely wrong, no-one would challenge her. Sometimes, when Mum is in one of her moods, she will say dreadful things, hurtful things, that I remember my father used to say to her; it is a very strange and sad state, hearing these words coming out of my Mum's mouth.
There was no-one to turn to, and no escape. Mum was in a foreign land, with a young child; she was there with her husband, and as such, was the "Engineer's wife." It couldn't have been easy.
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