For me it was the end of a tale 15 years in the making, throughout my formative years. Living in such a narrow-minded, puritanical and colonial country at such a time of political change had made me ill equipped for a life in Europe. I didn’t know that, then, though. In a week’s time I would cross the equator and, in another week or so beyond that, I would be arriving in England. I could hardly wait. I intended getting up at 4am to watch the ship dock in Southampton, even though I realized it would be a cold January day. I didn’t care that I didn’t possess a coat, or anything much to keep me warm. I told myself that I could buy a coat cheaply in the January sales.
I was grateful that a friend of mine from Rhodesia, who, like her mother, was now living in England, was coming in her car to meet me and to drive me from Southampton to Portsmouth where my grandmother lived, about 20 miles away. I couldn’t get over the fact that this friend was the very same girl whom I had met the first day aboard the ship both our families had taken from London, England, to Cape Town in 1957, all on our way to Southern Rhodesia. We had been only nine years old then, and hadn’t known each other till that moment, but our families had stayed in touch throughout our numerous changes of addresses and differing circumstances. Now, here we were, two young ladies in our twenties, and she was coming to meet me as I arrived in England on 24th January 1972. In 1957, as children, we would never have guessed as much.
A new life awaited me! I was excited, but above all, I was relieved to be out of Rhodesia.
It is now over 50 years since I left.
I have never been back since.
It was, indeed, the right thing to do.
