Dear Mervyn, If I don't write you now, I never will! First of all, my deepest condolences on the passing of your darling Elsie! She was a treasure beyond words.
You cannot imagine the number of times I've read and re-read "Bwana Karani", and every time I went out with my (Scots) sister-in-law to tend to her allotment in Cambridge (UK, not Massachusetts - I live in N. America:), I remembered yours, and said I must write Mervyn, I must, I must..... but never did! My folks are 4th generation Africa hands - my grandfather (EA Railways) went to East Africa in 1896, my mother (in her '90's, in Panjim now) was born there. So was I, siblings, wife and kids. I'm not sure you knew my parents - my dad ran Nyeri General Hospital with Dr. Ross, then to Nairobi with Dr. Phillips at the King George VI Hospital (now Kenyatta Hospital). My mother served in the British Army, and founded the Nyeri Commercial College (all white secretaries!), in 1956. Our house was in the gorgeous highlands at the foothills of Mt. Kenya, nights resounded to the blood-curdling cries of the Mau Mau in the caves below! Why I meant to write all this time was two-fold. My folks were friends with a T.A. Dos Santos, who served in Lodwar - over the years we received the annual Christmas card, since died out. My dad passed on 25 years ago - but my Mom (still going powerfully at 94 - ex-Brit Army, haha), always asks if I have any news of Mr. Santos. I know you served in the far north, did you know of him? I know he spent time with the Turkana. I left Kenya in 1970 for further studies abroad, and returned twice, the first time with a law degree, in the midst of the chaos of the 1982 attempted coup. Those were interesting times! I used to receive a lot of British newspapers in the mail in the '80's (including the Catholic "The Universe"), and on one occasion (at the Tom Mboya Street Post Office) was accosted by an Asian gentleman, who asked what I was doing with all the 'foreign newspapers' after reading. I actually distributed them to elder-care homes, etc., but was delighted to pass them on to this gentleman - who apparently did similar work, and went under the name of "Brother Francis!" Long story short, we became great friends, and he turned out to be a Wilfred Maciel - your brother! He was an advertising (and enterprising!) man, and of course, a journalist! He came over many times, with various 'foreign brochures' and advised us to move back abroad - though he said he never would. I saw less of him as his health deteriorated, and in this infirm state, he was often robbed and mugged on the streets of Nairobi. Eventually he told me was moving for his own safety to the outskirts of Nairobi in Kasarani - to the Nyumba ya Wazee, run by the Little Sisters of the Poor. I was shocked to hear he was struck down in a road accident in 1994 on the Thika-Muranga road, a few metres away from his home. >From the many who attended his funeral, I understood I was not the only one to benefit from the wonderful friendship of this wise and beautiful man. Just thought I'd let you know! Francis TO: 647-232-6014 NY: 718-713-6007 ............................................................................................ From: Mervyn Maciel <[email protected]> To: "Estb. 1994! Goa's Premiere Mailing List" <[email protected]> Subject: [Goanet] Konkani Traditional Mandos Thanks for those memories of yore, Edward. I thoroughly enjoyed them even now during my grieving process. I've never had time for the "Indianised" or "Westernised" versions. Nothing like our traditional mandos. Mervyn Maciel
