OPINION: Auntie Nancy proved genuine love still exists.....

I remember in the 1970s it was common to say “there is no more love,” and that “money has replaced” affection. But those were early days of serious, global inflation.

We tend to think the current, present, i.e. early 21 century,  is terrible, yet on post reflection, matters change and vary and ...

Forty years later, love is no longer about money; but finding and searching. Permanently goggling...online, surfing, on the internet.

In 2019 there are so many dating apps, and people of all ages are phenomenally, suffering, in lonely, eerie silence.

Even if you have cash, you might be in a cul de sac. It is not easy to find true love in 2019.

I first met Auntie Nancy- in a Tabata church, Dar es Salaam. My grandfather a well known preacher, had just delivered his powerful sermon, filled with humour and insight. Like everyone else who came across Reverend Anaeli Macha, we were made to trust life and be positive in all areas.

 No wonder Ministers, foreigners, elderly and young flocked to hear the magnetic Mchungaji’s sermons. Whether it was at Azania (these days Kivukoni) Front church, KCMC hospital, Kiboriloni (where he is buried) or via the Radio. He eulogised about friendship and goodwill. He made clashing couples reunite (and resolve); he wrote and in one of his etiquette Swahili books asks what makes a good marriage? How do we forgive and endure and compromise?

 He quips: “When a human being breaks personal relationship with God, other relations also go astray.”

And so in 1983, I met Auntie Nancy at this church service. She was the only white, Mzungu person, but wasn’t at all flustered.  Nancy was married to my father’s cousin, who we should say Uncle or Baba Mdogo in Swahili. Dr Augustine Macha had finished studies in the USA decades ago and returned with this amazing lady. Marriages and interactions with people of other races, tribes and nationalities are common in my family. It partly reflects on Rev Macha who invited everyone into his house and preached human peace and affection.

Auntie Nancy had that typical quick wit. A glint in the eye that makes Americans such wonderful company. Now if you are a cynic and are thinking of governments and politics (and wars) this piece is not about that room, that elephant, no ma’am, thank you, sir.

“You, in church?”

She teased after Uncle Augustine had introduced me as “that nephew” writer. Those days I was writing a weekly Sunday News column called: “Cultural Images.”

And so over time we met in family occasions. A huge example was my mother’s funeral, at Mbezi in 1997. Again auntie Nancy the only Mzungu person. Dressed in Khangas and mourning respectfully, mingling, humbly alongside the various females of the family and well wishers.  

“Your mother was a very remarkable woman,” she said after we had done our rites. She even counted the 34 cars that attended this sad event. So many people, she mused, admiringly.

And reader, there is a reason I have decided to dwell into a personal matter, something that shouldn’t be shared.

Auntie Nancy hailed from a well off, super culture. We know the USA is the richest nation on earth. I have been to The States and well, they have poor people too;  but the shops are massive, cars excellent; things function satisfactorily.

 And don’t we love dollars? Aunt Nancy abandoned all that and came to reside in the village I hailed from in Mori, Old Moshi.

 Now.

 Kilimanjaro is supposed to be a prosperous region, right? Chaggas are, indeed, hardworking lot. But a journey to Mori is a “serious project.”  As hilly as it can get. The roads “prefer” jeeps, four wheel drives and land-rovers.

Nonetheless, Auntie Nancy, settled here and when Baba Mdogo, Augustine passed away in 2004, no, no, no! Nancy did not rush back to Los Angeles, Ohio, New York, cities and land of milk, dollars and honey. She established herself, modestly, catering for orphans in the local Tela Church around the area, baking them cakes and Maandazi, played her piano and just mingled. She had made a decision. Having loved and romanced, with her children (my cousins) she would live and die here, in Tanzania, East Africa.

And death did knock her doors, May 2019.  Three months ago.

A solemn occasion. WE lost a dear mother, sister, aunt, grandmother, niece, beloved soul.  Nancy was not a missionary like those nineteen century explorers prodding for minerals, seeds and riches. No she was driven by the heart. Yes, love does exist and like the late Dr Martin Luther King said: “Don’t let anyone fool you”...

Yes, chastity, pure serene, true fondness and commitment are not for sale.

May her beautiful spirit rest in peace. Amen

Freddy Macha is a writer and musician based in London. Blog, www.freddymacha-blogspot.com