Well - well!

10 St Luke's by Greg (1998)

Fifty three years ago when our family first went to live at 10 St Luke’s Road, Harare, there was a well at the back of the garden behind a line of privet trees.

As we had two sons aged five and two years old, the first thing we did in the garden was to fill the well to ensure their safety. Everything went into that well.

 Rocks, old cement, pieces of wood, old bricks were all thrown down the hole until it was level with the surrounds. Soil was pressed over the well and grass planted and then it was forgotten.

The children played over it, rode bicycles, the gardener pushed the wheel barrow over it and the soil remained sealed over the well.

A borehole was put down in another section of the garden and offered abundant supply of water, always, even in drought years.

Many years later after my four sons had grown up and made their lives elsewhere and I was on my own I decided to sell 10 St Luke’s Road, although I remained living in the cottage at the back of the property.

I was away in Nyanga with the family when I received a call from Sophie.

 “Madam!” she said, voice heavy with alarm, “There’s a big, big hole in the garden and Fafadzwa has fallen in!”

“Madam, we got him out but it is very terrible.”

"There's a big, big hole in the garden...."

She did not phone again to tell me how the child was so I spent a few days in extreme worry until I returned home to find out the whole story.

Three children were looking at the rabbits in their pen behind the line of privet trees. Two of them stepped back safely but little Fafadzwa disappeared  - with earth, grass and roots - into the depths of the old well, now empty.

Oo.....er! by Shaun

There were screams and shouts and everyone came running to see what had happened. There was no rope on the property so the hose was quickly brought and tied around a tree and two lengths let down into the well. Fafadzwa’s father called Last, let down the hose while Fafadzwa’s mother shouted encouragement to Fafadzwa at the bottom of the well, who was screaming and crying.

Last was going to tie Fafadzwa to the hose with a towel wrapped around him, but the little boy was so 

frightened that his father held him close with one arm and held onto the hose pipe with the other. 

Pulling....

Sophie called to Cephas from next door who climbed over a wall and rushed to help and soon Dingaan and Cephas pulled the hose upwards.

Little Fafadzwa was washed down with Dettol and warm water and given a Panadol. He had a headache and his ribs were sore. After two days his mother took him to the clinic for a check-up. They were told by the clinic that if the child was fine after two days then they had nothing to worry about.

When I saw him on my return he stood on his stocky little two-year-old legs at gazed at me with huge eyes until his mother picked him up, sat him on her hip and gave him his little bowl of rice which he liked to carry around with him in case he felt peckish.

The well has been re-filled with more rocks and whatever else could be found. I believe that because it is not possible to compact a well, unless an impenetrable substance like clay is used, so gradually the contents deep down below are washed away. Perhaps in another fifty years that well will once again open up.

Harare’s underground water table has dropped by around 15 feet. So many boreholes have been drilled: there is so much demand as the municipal supply of water is intermittent. Some however, have had no water for years and residents have to buy water at enormous cost.

There was no water at the bottom of the well at St Luke’s. Had there been, little Fafadzwa might have drowned.