'Over the following couple of years we became more involved with golf in Manzini'

'Over the following couple of years we became more involved with golf in Manzini'

Frank remembers playing golf in Swaziland.

Frank Gaynor

Trinity College Dublin

1978

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Frank Gaynor

Marriage and Family

Life Story

Swaziland, Africa

1970's

My first month in Swaziland was spent in The Tavern Hotel in the capital Mbabane, in the company of 14 other expatriates, all on ODA contracts. We were all waiting for the Housing Department to come up with an offer of accommodation. One morning close to Easter the hotel staff left all our belongings on the corridor outside our rooms as they prepared for the influx of Easter holiday guests, mostly from South Africa. By then Monica was on her way with our four children and I had nowhere for us to stay. John, who was a colleague at SCOT, rescued the situation for me by inviting us to stay with him while he waited for a new staff house at SCOT that was nearing completion. John's apartment was spacious and less than 10 minutes walking distance from the centre of Mbabane. It was from this apartment that our four children first went to school together. They attended St Mark's primary school, where Jimmy Hayes was then head teacher. Jimmy, who came from Northern Ireland, was an affable and capable principal. The fact that we were also Irish I think helped in finding places for our children at short notice. Our involvement in the school soon brought us into contact with a large number of parents around Mbabane.Early on one of my colleagues at SCOT invited some staff members to join himself and his wife on a climb of Sibebe Rock, which is locally referred to as 'Bald Rock'. I brought Lynda, then 9 years old, along with me. Sibebe Rock is a large exposed granite rock formation 8km northeast of Mbabane. Much of the rock is sheer and dangerous if you fall. For those who enjoy looking down steep rock - faces the climb is enjoyable and not very difficult. Halfway up the rock a lady in front of me said that she was getting afraid and needed some help. At this point we were all moving along on hands and feet; there was nothing to hold on to; it was just bald rock. I first looked up at what was ahead, and then made the mistake of looking down. It was then that I became aware of the fact that I was like a small insect climbing up an egg, and a gush of fear raced through my body. I looked across at Lynda and she seemed to be making steady progress. I don't remember very much about the next 45 minutes, apart from the fact that I was very tense. We all arrived safely at the top, continued walking on to a flat area and, like the wise men in the bible, we returned home by a different route. That was my only visit to Sibebe Rock. For the following five years in Swaziland most of my weekends were devoted to golf.We had a most enjoyable year playing golf in Mbabane. It was the friendliness of the playing members that we appreciated more than the quality of the course. On Saturday mornings we joined about 60, mostly white golfers, on the 9 - hole course which was a narrow strip of land adjacent to a dirt road. The layout of the course was like a smaller version of the Old Course at St Andrews in Scotland, with golfers playing holes 6 to 9 meeting those who were playing holes 1 to 5. This resulted in plenty of banter and laughs. While competition was keen the emphasis was on enjoyment. After I was transferred to William Pitcher College and we moved into a house in Manzini we started playing golf regularly on the Royal Swazi golf course, which was locally known as The Spa. This excellent 18 - hole course was then part of the Holiday Inn's hotels and casino complex in the Ezulwini Valley, roughly halfway between Mbabane and Manzini. Every weekend there was an influx of visitors from South Africa, mostly from Johannesburg, to play golf at The Spa, gamble at the casino, and socialise in the local nightclubs. The golfers came with the latest golf equipment, a serious approach to the game, and a limited sense of humour. I went with the flow and in 1980, having got my handicap down to 7, I started taking my golf very seriously. This resulted in a miserable year on the golf courses as I repeatedly failed to achieve to my own inflated expectations. At the end of that year I accepted that I was not going to be a top class golfer, and resolved to go out and enjoy my game as I had done during our year in Mbabane. I have done just that for over 30 years.Over the following couple of years we became more involved with golf in Manzini, where the majority of the players were local black golfers who just loved playing golf. They were skilful, competitive and excellent company on the course. The course itself was fairly rough with a scarcity of grass on the fairways. For a couple of years I was secretary of Manzini golf club, and in 1981 I was secretary of Swaziland Golf Union. That was the year that King Sobhuza 11 celebrated his Diamond Jubilee - his 60th year as King of Swaziland. As Secretary of the SGU I played a leading role in organising a golf competition at The Spa as part of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations. I was also a member of the winning team on that occasion. Each year Manzini golf committee raised some funds for a small orphanage outside the town. The orphanage was owned and run by an elderly lady of mixed race who for many years had around ten children in her care. On a couple of occasions I travelled with the golf captain to the orphanage to hand over our modest donation. It was very encouraging to see the loving happy relationships that were evident during our visits. Once a year we travelled to Tshaneni, in northern Swaziland, to play in the Quarrel Cup on the nearby Mananga golf course. Only married couples were allowed to play in this competition. We emerged as winners on one occasion. Strolling around this course in the early morning, before the golf got under way, was a very relaxing and refreshing experience. The air was cool and clean, and the silence of the morning was broken only by the calling of a few birds. For anyone who enjoys 'getting away from it all' this is the place to go.There was a small but very sociable Irish community in Manzini. One St Patrick's night Con, a staunch Tipperary man, made his house and garage available for a party. After a few beers, at about 2am I decided to entertain the guests with a story that Sean O'Siochain used to tell about a man who left Rossaveal, backside Connemara, and headed for London. By the time I reached the punch line at Paddington station I was the only one left in the garage.There was a great community of Salesian priests in Manzini during our time there. To say they were a community is a bit misleading; they went about doing their own thing completely independent of each other. One man was involved in helping refugees, another man concentrated on improving the quality of learning in a number of primary schools. Larry was an excellent Principal of their highly regarded secondary school, but will be best remembered for his work with Manzini's street children. We were slightly embarrassed by the gratitude shown by some of Larry's boys for a small contribution we made to their 'safe house'. On Saturday evenings Bart and Hugh sometimes joined us on the golf course, for a couple of beers in the clubhouse, and then rushed off to celebrate evening mass. Paddy Boyle from Donegal lit up many a Saturday morning for us in Manzini with his broad smile and hearty laugh. I had first met Paddy a couple of years earlier at Warrenstown College when I was working for Gorta. A few years later Paddy died suddenly while on a visit to Losotho. All of these men, each in their own relaxed, friendly, honest way, played outstanding roles in the community. They added quality to our lives, and to the lives of many others in Swaziland.From our base in Manzini we were well positioned to give our visitors from Ireland a good taste of Africa. We were two and a half hours driving from Kruger National Park, four hours from Johannesburg and six hours from Durban. When Monica's niece, Dolores, came to visit us during the year we were in Mbabane, Monica met her in Johannesburg and went on to Pretoria where P.W. Botha was been sworn in as the new Prime Minister. It was October and Pretoria was looking its purple best with the jacaranda trees in full bloom. Later Monica and our children travelled to Kruger National Park with Dolores. Reports from this outing suggest that the children focused more on recording car number plates than on watching out for the wonderful variety of animals and birds that this Park has to offer. I travelled with Dolores to Durban where one of our days was spent at the races.In 1981 Monica's sister Verona, and her husband Michael, spent a month with us. The small Irish community in Manzini rose to the occasion with a series of house parties that helped make this a very memorable holiday. Larry and Bart joined us for some of these sessions. Fr. Mike, a Tipperary man who doubled up as a priest and a vet, also joined in the fun. He hosted a couple of very enjoyable evenings at Mpisi Farm, 20km from Manzini, where he was Director of a veterinary training centre. Our house was on the Manzini town boundary; services such as street lighting, tarmac road, water and electricity, all ended at our house. About 200m from the house was a local village. During his stay with us Michael made frequent visits to the village, became friendly with a number of the villagers, and was fascinated by their way of life.By the time my sister Breeda and her husband Danny arrived we were well organized for another great holiday. Some of the highlights for Breeda and Danny, and for us, were golf and tennis in Ezulwini Valley, sunset in Kruger National Park, gambling in Sun City, and joining 2,000 revelers for an Irish ballad session in the Athlone Hotel, north of Durban. We bought a Ford Transit van that had been roughly converted into a camper; it had an engine that consumed almost as much oil as petrol. Our favourite outing in this vehicle was to Sodwana Bay on the Natal coast, where there was a large campsite. There we were joined by South Africans, mostly from Johannesburg and Pretoria. They came with elaborate tents, complete with carpets, television, fridge, cooker and a full range of kitchen equipment. They also had motorboats and an impressive array of gear for fishing and other water sports. Whenever a shark was sighted in the bay swimmers were advised to stay close to the beach. Once when we arrived late the gate was closed and we spent the night on a cleared piece of ground outside the campsite. I stayed in the vehicle with Monica and the children settled down in a small tent, but not for long. After an hour or so the children came calling for help; they were being pestered by mosquitoes. There was little we could do; the mosquitoes were all over the place. None of us got much sleep that night. One night we camped on the coast north of Durban. The following morning we were on the move early and walked to the beach with the pleasant feeling of cool sand under our bare feet. A couple of hours later when we started to walk back to the vehicle, in blazing sunshine, we found ourselves on roasting hot sand. We had no shoes with us, only a couple of towels. Using the towels as stepping stones we slowly made our way back to the vehicle.In 1983 a new teachers college opened in Nhlangano, in the south of Swaziland. I was asked to go to Nhlangano and assist in establishing and equipping the maths department in the new college. For six months I spent three nights each week in Nhlangano and four in Manzini. In Nhlangano I occupied a one - room bed - sit. World Bank funding had helped build some of the most inappropriate staff houses you could imagine. The college was built on a large farm, where there was plenty of room for low density staff housing. About 30 houses were tucked in together with no garden front or back, no outside storage space, and with ridiculously small rooms. There was no safe place for a bicycle at night, no patch of land for growing vegetables, and nowhere to keep domestic animals.When I was leaving, after just six months at the college, I was humbled by the words of gratitude I received from the college Principal and some staff members. One staff member, who was British, told me that he was very impressed by how much I had achieved in such a short time. But the most touching moments for me were when some of the primary schools I had visited, to observe students on teaching practice, organized farewell tea parties for me. Some of these schools were in very remote poor areas, and I had been there only three or four times. Whenever I visited a school I tried to meet informally with some of the teachers for a chat and a laugh. I think they appreciated this.

Irish Research Council for Arts, Humanities & Social Sciences (IRCHSS)

Dr Kathleen McTiernan (Trinity College Dublin)

Dr Deirdre O'Donnell (Trinity College Dublin)