MEETING OBERT
Seeing the world through the eyes of a migrant worker from Zimbabwe underscored the importance of personal freedom
Inever met a person who was not free. That is, until I met Obert, originally of Zimbabwe.
We met Obert in 2008 when my husband, Roger, and I lived in a camp in the Kalahari Desert of Botswana, where Roger trained nationals on new drilling rigs. Obert was one of four workers whose job it was to cut brush and firewood and keep the sand swept so we could see tracks from snakes.
Over the course of five months, he became much more than that to us. Obert was a quiet, gentle man who was a hard worker, a conservationist, teacher, protector and dear friend.
He was hired to be the gardener at the drilling company’s game ranch—a job he had trained for and was passionate about. But instead he was stationed at a company work camp. The son of a park
ranger in one of Zimbabwe’s national reserves, Obert could name and describe the characteristics of each bird, animal, reptile and insect that made the Kalahari their home. He kept assuring me snakes were as scared of me as I was of them, and they would only strike when cornered. I tried to believe him, but one day a cobra slithered two feet away from me and sent me screaming like a little girl. Some lessons are just too hard to learn.
Very quickly, the ugly realities of racism in Africa became evident, and each incident wore down my spirit. Verbal and physical abuse in the camp by people who seemed to hang onto the apartheid beliefs of old came as a huge shock to me, as did the meagre ration boxes the black workers were expected to survive on.
Thankfully, Roger made the decision to move us to a smaller camp and we were allowed to bring one worker with us. Obert cried with a mixture of relief and happiness when we asked him to come, while the remaining workers wept to see the three of us leave.
We shared our food with him and in the evening we ate popcorn, sat around the campfire and watched Planet Earth DVDS on our laptop. It was incredible witnessing Obert see things for the first time that we take for granted. Each night his world opened up as he saw the ocean and its sea life, snow-topped mountains and animals that he had only heard about. Through Obert’s eyes our world opened up, as well.
When our son Brad and his wife Anette came to Botswana for a holiday, we arranged for Obert to come to the airport and meet them, while we waited for a flight to Zambia. I knew Obert would be an important person for them to meet, and though the visit was short they could feel the depth of his spirit: Obert described the harsh realities of life in Zimbabwe at the time, and why he came to Bo- tswana to provide for his family. He talked about the lack of food, medicine and education in his homeland. Under Robert Mugabe’s rule, Obert explained how some people simply disappeared.
Obert’s words that, ”A person can handle any suffering as long as they are free” became etched in our minds. He said that his dream was to start a gardening service in Botswana, so that one day he could reunite his family. We emptied our pockets and gave him money to buy tools in the hope his goal would become a reality.
Two months later, we left Botswana for another project and did not see Obert again, nor were we able to track him down in subsequent years. We can only hope that he and his family are safe, that he is living his dream and, most importantly, that he is free.
“A person can handle any suffering as long as they are free.”