In 1975 Tony and I decide to take Edgar and Felix on a fishing trip to Lake Kariba On arrival at Charara Fishing Camp, where we intend to stay for a week, a plan is hatched so as to halve our accommodation fees. Edgar and Felix decide that they will book in as our servants. Servants pay only a nominal fee. The camp manager is a Black man named McLeod. Since Edgar and Felix both speak perfect Shona, the main Black dialect, the plan goes off without hitch and only Tony and I pay fees.
In the camp our companions take to doing their evening exercises in close proximity to neighboring campers. Their exercise routine is incredibly impressive, a forerunner to modern aerobics, except that they include basketball touches of each other high in the air, their bodies soaring up and up till fingers meet. Phew! One could lose weight just watching them. The problem with all this is that both are clad only in exercise pants that are so skimpy as to qualify them as being just about naked. Even I, their friend and colleague, am uncomfortable with this display. In court an argument could be made out that here we have a case of "indecent exposure". It is one thing to show off the male physique. It is quite another thing to do so in a way that puts the whole of Africa's testosterone toolbox on exhibition. It is difficult to see them as anything other than two black "six-packs", doing a provocative dance on a dusty stage, washed over by the rays of the setting sun.
It is not surprising when two White men from the neighboring camp approach us and very respectfully request that this display stop or be taken somewhere else. After all "there are women around". Their request is met with a deluge of new found black rhetoric gleaned from speeches by new heroes such as Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver and other hard line American Black activists. Edgar and Felix give them a long lecture on "the need for the White man to appreciate, recognize and accept the beauty and superiority of the black body - especially since the White man has long since been adept at accessing the wondrous sweetness of the black female body under cover of darkness - " You don't know whether to laugh or cry. They don't mean any of it. It is pure theater on their part but with a serious politically nuanced message. The complainants retreat in numbed incredulity. Shamefully we all reflect smugly on this put down of our White brethren - but not for long.
One evening Edgar and Felix go for their run along a track that winds its way through the African bush to Kariba Town. They return earlier than usual, much earlier - with Felix in the lead. They collapse on their camp beds panting as if their chests will burst. Our neighbors arrive soon afterward and drive right into our camp. I realize something is up as they alight from their van smiling broadly. Confirmation that something is up comes swiftly as Felix jumps up and breathlessly tries to order them to leave. The two White men turn towards me, and with big grins on their faces and say, - "You need to hear this - man you should have seen your friends here … " pointing to Felix and Edgar. Against the protestations of our colleagues I invite the visitors to take seats in camp chairs and offer them beers. "We need to hear this" I say.
It emerges that as Felix and Edgar were running along the path our neighbors drove up to them and offered them a lift. Once again they were treated to a colourful lecture about the "softness" of White folk who need cars, the "hardness” of Black folk and other gratuitous rhetoric intended to niggle and irritate them as White folk. "So be it" our boastful friends were told - "look over there ..." as the van proceeded to accelerate away. Just some 70 -100 yards away was a pride of lion ambling roughly in their direction. Soon Tony and I are in stitches as we are told about the terror stricken escape back to camp that our friends set about accomplishing, with each overtaking the other in rapid succession; Olympic times being shattered as fast as you like. As the lions seemed interested our neighbors thankfully kept their van in between the pride and the fleeing pair.
The trouble is not over. McLeod arrives soon afterwards. He demands payment in full of camp fees for Felix and Edgar. They try to protest stating that they are servants.
"Rubbish - " says McLeod - "I have never seen such lazy servants in my life - every evening I see you people come off your boat - the servants run to camp sit down and start drinking - while these MaBaas<!- unload the boat, carry the fish, clean the fish and make fire for the night. They do the cooking
and the washing up while the servants have more beer. In the morning it is the same - the servants sleep while the MaBaas get up, make fire and cook breakfast. Then they wash up and carry the things to the boat ... even in the morning the servants are drinking some beer - no - no - you are not servants and you must pay"
When we try to say that we are very good bosses McLeod says emphatically - "No - no, never - not in Rhodesia - "
Our White neighbors are doubled over in laughter. The day is saved when Edgar counsels McLeod that he should charge visitors for the privilege of viewing the penis of one of the workers in camp. Some time before the man had been naked in the waters of Lake Kariba, drawing his nets, when a tiger fish struck. His most precious organ was reduced in an instant by jaws filled with razor sharp teeth. Fortunately the bite was lengthwise and the man was able to still procreate thereafter. His penis, however, was something well worth viewing and many a patron paid for the privilege, starting with our two White gentlemen neighbors in camp.
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