‘The warmest welcome I ever received.’

When my great grandmother Marie Jackson arrived in Bandawe on board the little steamship Ilala after four months journey from Scotland in 1897 she wrote
‘ The women here surrounded me, hundreds of them, all looking so pleased and good-natured and striving to shake hands with me. It was the strangest scene I ever took part in and the warmest welcome I ever received anywhere in all my life.’

Today we had the same experience.

It started at Bandawe Girls’ Secondary School. McDonald had been busy and made contact with the school yesterday to ask if we could visit. The Deputy Principal had kindly offered to meet us at 9.30am. We arrived a little early. There were some girls lounging around by the gate so I asked if Grant could take a photo of the sign and me to send my mum. As I positioned myself they all started piling in to join the photo. Girls appeared from far and wide full of grins and noise and soon you could see neither me nor the sign for laughing adolescents. They then treated me to the school chant and song sung instantly in multi part harmony. Such joy! (All attached for you to enjoy).

We wandered through the gate with our new friends and came across another group of girls in a circle singing amazing music and moving as only African people can, as if their whole bodies are the instrument. This wasn’t for our benefit, it’s just what they do Saturday mornings. No teacher involved.

The Deputy Principal, Hakim, was a young man, warm and welcoming. He introduced us to another teacher, Patricia Gondwe and we were escorted to his office where we could ask questions. My main interest was discovering what had changed when mum had worked there. She had given me two names of people she remembered from 20 years ago. Wonderfully, one was a Rev Gondwe who was Patricia’s father. So there we were, two daughters meeting by chance.

This is a remarkable school. It’s a boarding school with 500 girls, all boarders! They have nowhere near the capacity to manage such numbers and many are living two to a bed. They have newly built classrooms and dormitory rooms thanks to several Scottish churches, but are in desperate need of basic resources. For example they have two functioning computers in the IT classroom. The kitchen consists of huge iron pots over fires. There are up to 60 girls in a class with text books shared 1 between 4. Despite this, 82 of last year’s 120 senior class graduates got into university. They are studying Macbeth and the girls tell me they love it! I left wishing there was some way to help them, so will be giving that thought.

Next stop was the old Bandawe Mission. Again, McDonald had been busy (we owe him so much thanks), and the Pastor was expecting us. The mission sits on a headland that we can see from our hotel. To reach there required some impressive 4WD efforts from McDonald through deep sand. We passed through crops of cassava and rice fields, then a village before arriving at the 140 years old church. Still standing and still in use.

But before we could see the church over came three men, full of warm greetings and African handshakes- 1 handshake, 1 thumb shake, 1 hand shake while your left hand crosses your body. This was the pastor, Rev Chirwa, his assistant Symon and another man whose role I never worked out -Carrow. First, they insisted, we must follow Malawi custom and come to their home and eat. So we followed them into the nearby manse, a simple four room home with polished cement floors, open rafters and a welcoming living room with chairs draped in beautiful embroidered white linen pieces. The Rev was a delightful, jolly man, warm and interested. Symon is a primary teacher when not doing church duties and was genuinely fascinated to meet us, learn more about Australia and my family story.

After a welcoming chat we were escorted to a table and the Rev’s wife, Christina appeared. She was tiny - I imagine she had some San ancestry. We were seated, hands washed and served tea and sliced bread with margarine. Such generosity from people who have next to nothing!

We were then allowed to start exploring. The first stop was the old mission cemetery. It had been recently (as in that morning) slashed. It holds the graves of dozens of missionaries and their families who died between the 1880’s and early 1900’s. So many young men in their early 20’s who died shortly after arriving or mums and their babies. Very confronting.

As we wandered towards the church we stopped by some women and children peeling cassava with alarmingly sharp knives. Not many Australian 5 year olds you’d see wielding something like that so dexterously!

Next the old mission church. It is enormous. The original thatched roof is now corrugated iron and the acoustics inside are amazing. I’m so sorry not to have been there for a service to hear the 800 strong congregation in full voice. Some of the furniture including the pulpit date to the mission days.

We thought it was time to go, but no, we were told we hadn’t yet eaten! We were to stay for lunch and it had all been prepared and we were honored guests! My goodness! Sure enough, the lovely Christina had prepared rice (local) and chicken(very local) and a tomato savory sauce for us. We all sat again and the Rev said a grace that had me in tears. The generosity and the warmth and kindness of these people has me quite undone. Interestingly Christina didn’t eat with us but I suspect there weren’t enough plates.

Post lunch another long sit and chat in the lounge, then photos and extended fond farewells. My heart is at capacity.

I sent a message to Rev Chirwa on our return thanking him and Christina for their kind hospitality. This was his reply.

‘We are very grateful, delighted by your visit,we will cherish it all our days.We are proud of your Great parents who have done recommendable work and job to bring the gospel,end wars amongst tribes that peace reign.God continue to work through you always.May God see you throughout your stay in our area and safeguard you all as you fly back home.’Read more