[The following is in regards to a visit to England by Englishman Sir Stewart Gore-Browne, who had taken with him two of his African helpers from his estate in Central Africa.]
The biggest success of the trip had been the tin soldiers in Selfridge’s toy department. ‘Wanga, tata,’ Kakumbi had whispered in an awed voice as he picked one after another up from a display and held them gingerly in his palm as if afraid that they would turn their miniature arms on him and run. ‘Marvelous my father, how cunning men are.’ After Gore-Browne had rescued a clockwork monkey with a drum from the attentions of Bulaya, and helped him choose some glass bangles to take back to his village as presents, he returned to the display and found Kakumbi still staring at the tin soldiers. ‘Chief Chitimukulu would have given slaves and ivory and cloth for these. Will you bring some one day to the Bemba country? I would like my mother to see them, tears would run from her eyes.’
’Which ones are your favourites?’ asked Gore-Browne, beckoning an astonished shopgirl to come over and serve them. Once he had got his package of soldiers, Kakumbi insisted on clutching it close to him as though it was the most precious thing on earth, and all day kept repeating, ‘Wanga tata, men are very cunning.’ Gore-Browne found his simplicity touching.
Source:
Lamb, Christina. “Part One: 1914-1927, Chapter 4.” The Africa House: The True Story of An English Gentleman and His African Dream. Harper Collins Publishers, 2004. PAGE. Print.
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