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Right, my name is Majorie Norman, I'm Eighty-Six, and I went out to Africa at the age of Twenty-Two.
How did you get into that line of work?
There was an advertisement for the Overseas Service, so I applied
There was a lot of red on the maps in those days, in 1949.
How about Dar Es Salaam? So I had to go and have a look where Dar es Salaam was.
I'll do a two year tour here, then I'll go to another red bit. I'll get all around the world.
But of course, I fell for Africa... Then I learned Swahili, so I thought well it's all a bit of a waste...
So I stayed. Sixteen years... I loved it.
Apart from getting malaria, bilharzia, and various other odd little complaints you get in the Tropics.
Before I left we built a thousand-bed hospital in Dar Es Salaam.
Now Dar Es Salaam is not a big place, but it was a centre, for getting them in.
And we got United Nations... I used to liaise with UNICEF.
We had village midwives who delivered babies... I'm sorry to give you the gory details...
But they used to cut the umbilical cords with some rusty old bit of stone...
And they used to get terrible infections...
Well you had to learn Swahili if you wanted to got back to Africa.
So you had to root around... to find lessons.
All you could find were people like White Fathers, who wore white cowls.
And they were German, because it used to be German East Africa, before the 14-18 War.
Tanganyika was a Trust Territory of the United Nations, it wasn't a colony.
It was decided before we went up that eventually they will be handed over.
It was a paternal cover, over all of these tribes.
You couldn't just say 'Right, you're independent now.'
Because you will get all of the ones with the power, and the muscle boys, taking over.
And any grants that you gave them would be collared by the big boys and put in their accounts, as it has since...
The army, after independence, before we had done a proper handover...
But we got black ministers in by then.
And they refused to give the soldiers a pay rise. They needed a pay rise.
They still had white officers, but the ministers had decided whether they would give a pay rise or not...
So the soldiers mutinied.
The barracks was just up the road from where I lived.
The first I knew, was that the first thing in the morning I woke up, and I could hear guns going off. Rifle shots.
Then, down the road, army lorries, packed with European army officers, English army officers, who'd been training these troops.
The Africans with them in the back with rifles saying 'We're sending them home! We're sending them home!' in Swahili.
But I thought, well there must be something going on, and there's guns going off, there's going to be trouble.
And that was going to mean trouble with the hospital, and they're going to need help.
So I got in my car and started to go to the hospital.
And I was stopped by a drunken soldier.
Who rested a rifle in there... It was loaded. I knew because I could shoot.
'Where was I going?' And I said, 'Well I'm going to work. I always go to work at this time.
And he was quite nonplussed, when I said this, because they weren't used to women speaking Swahili.
He said 'Well go round the other way.' That's all he said.
Anyway, I went round the other way, it got very nasty... in the town.
My boss said 'I think you should go home Marjorie. We've reported it, it's all done.' So, off I went home.
I was sitting at home, just looking out of the window at the road where the people were going up and down...
And my next door neighbour came over. Also a Majorie. And she said, 'You've got to come, they won't speak any English!'
Some soldiers had arrived. One to start with. One had arrived, and wouldn't speak English.
So I went over to her house, and he was drunk.
He had grenades, and ammunition, and guns.
And I started talking to him. And then four more came in after that.
He was the pathfinder. And they were all stood in this small sitting room.
And I said 'Well, what do want?' He said, 'Where are all of the other single women?' So, I said, 'I don't know, they're not all here.
I said 'Why do you want to know?' He said 'You go and stand in the road outside.' And I said 'Certainly not!'
They didn't know what to do about that, either, so there was a hush.
Then I saw this other girl's house boy, at the back. And I said 'What do you want?' to this soldier. 'Drink!'
So I said to this girl's house boy, 'Can you bring five glasses of water through?'
So he did. They were a bit nonplussed. I think they expected us to be frightened.
If you're not frightened, then they don't know quite what to do. I was terrified, actually!
I recognised some of the cicatrices. Different tribes had different cicatrices. And I recognised his.
So I said 'What is the news of Nuala these days?' Because that was the area he came from.
'Do you know Nuala?' I said, 'Yes, I know it very well. I know the Nuala DC down there.' 'Oh, you know the DC!'
We got quite matey, quite chatty. In the end, well I thought they've been here long enough.
So I said 'Well I think I'll be going now', having got it sorted. It was all in Swahili, none of these girls - they didn't learn it!
The stupid women! I always say you should learn the language of the country that you're in, if you're living there.