By Mwizenge S. Tembo, Ph. D.
Emeritus Professor of Sociology
I woke up at 3 hours facing a star-studded sky from under an open tent sleeping in my clothes surrounded by maize fields at a remote rural village farm. Dozens of other funeral goers were still sleeping. This was during a 3-day funeral wake and burial for my 84-year-old brother-in-law who had passed away a few days earlier after a long illness. This was near Muyayi in remote Chief Mwase Mpangwe in the Lundazi district in the Eastern Province of Zambia in Southern Africa.
My challenge that caused me anxiety is that I was supposed to be back in the capital city of Lusaka before sunset that day; a distance of 433 miles or 696kms or 10 hours of bus ride. If I missed my only bus ride, I risked losing my Service Apartment reservation and forfeiting my prepaid deposit. My 30-year-old nephew volunteered to drive me in his small car for 15 miles or 24Kms to the Lundazi-Chipata main road for me to catch the Lusaka bus at 4 hours.
The 51 miles or 82kms of this part of the paved road was horrible. There were rough giant potholes all over the road. I had travelled on it by bus since 2012. I ask each time I ride the bus to get a seat near the front of the bus from the capital city of Lusaka. Would I be able to get a seat near the front of the bus this time going back to the city?
When I heard the loud sound from the distance in the pitch darkness and saw the bus headlights emerging, I raised my bright small one double AA battery Redline torch to the rapid flickering emergency mode, high above my head to draw the attention of the driver. I made sure the bright flickering flashlight was pointing to the ground because I did not want to blind the bus driver. The bus stopped as I rushed to the door with my backpack and carry-on bag.
“How far, Sir!” the young conductor shouted as he swung the door open.
“Lusaka!!!”
“Hurry Get in!! Go to the very back where the only empty seats are!!!” The Conductor tossed my bag in the bus undercarriage and slammed it shut. The bus moved on.
“Sir! Can I get a seat near the front?” I asked the conductor again. “I get sick if I sit in the back!!!”
“Unfortunately, sir,” he replied. “There is nothing up front. You have to go to the back!!!”\
I knew then I was in deep trouble or even danger. I awkwardly sat down on seat number 27 as the bus swung and bounced my stomach around for one minute. I quickly pulled from my 65 years of rural travel experience from 1960 when I was 6 years old and rode on the Central African Bus Services (CARS) when Zambia was Northern Rhodesia during British Colonialism. I travelled on some of the roughest early dirt or gravel roads. I am now 70 years old.
First, I had to stand with my feet spread three feet or one meter apart in the isle. I leaned the small of my back and tailbone against one of the seats. The bus was wildly swinging side to side of the road and bounced up and down and suddenly braking avoiding deep lethal potholes. I remembered a page from the professional downhill snow skiers, including the famous Lindsey Vaun who often go at speeds of 60 miles or 96 Kms per hour skiing on their two legs. When downhill skiers fly at that speed, they use the tendons around their knees as hydraulic springs with shock absorbers. I lowered my upper body by about half a foot or a third of a meter and slightly bent my knees. My knees and tendons were now shock absorbers for my bouncing body.
I actively used my hands to hold on to the head seat rests in front and behind me. As I bobbed my head up and down, swung back and forth and sideways, I felt like the famous boxer Smokin Joe Frazer trying to avoid the barrage of swift dazzling boxing jabs from the Greatest boxer, Mohammed Ali.
The sick looking passenger in the next seat had his head hanging out of the window as he was vomiting. The six passengers being tossed around at the very back of the bus were having it the roughest. The sudden numerous movements in virtually all directions would require expert explanations from the eminent Astrophysicist Neil de Grasse Tyson. My memories of kinetic, potential energy, and Newtonian Physics from my Grade 12 or Form V Physics class from 54 years ago in 1971 Chizongwe Secondary School, would not do enough justice to understand all the numerous physical traumatic movements and challenges I was experiencing all at once.
After two hours or 51 miles or 82 Kms after Mgubudu Stores, the bus suddenly was quiet and smooth riding. This silence was probably what Astronauts feel once the rocket breaks through the gravity barrier and becomes weightless.
I sat down with a huge sigh of relief. The rest of the bus ride for the next 382miles or 614kms or 8 hours was very smooth all the way to the capital city of Lusaka. The Zambian government needs to repave those 51 miles or 82kms part of the Chipata-Lundazi road which has been horrible since 2012 or during the last 13 years. Warning: Readers are strongly advised not to try to risk travelling like this if you are over 70 years old as it could be dangerous and perhaps even deadly
