Blessed with the elixir of eternal youth
James Ratibar, who turns 94 this week, is a take-charge man without an idle bone in his body
AT THE very bottom of a sharp hill is a brightly lit doorway welcoming the visitor. It is the house that James Ratibar built. The words of a John Lennon classic come to mind as he tells the story of his extraordinary working life. “A working class hero is something to be. If you want to be a hero, well just follow me.”
Born on August 23, 1923, and having worked continuously until 1992, he is the salt of the earth, stuff of working-class heroes. In whatever domain Ratibar has been in, whether work or family, one easily sees that this man is a leader and a visionary. He is a take-charge man without an idle bone in his body. The family quietly confide that he has not really retired. He is always finding things to do.
Ratibar’s childhood home was a farm in Pinetown. “My happiest memories as a child were playing soccer, fishing in the sluits with my friends, and looking after donkeys and cows in the fields,” he says.
His father, Pooran Genda, arrived in colonial Natal from Bengal, in the western part of India, with a group of boys. Ratibar thinks he may have come without his parents’ knowledge or blessing. His mother was born in Manors in Pinetown. Her mother had come from the Indian holy city of Mathura.
The patriarch was indentured to a farmer called Harvey. Ratibar had eight sisters and three brothers. All that remains of the family is him and his 87-year-old sister, Kistnee, who lives in Greytown.
The young Ratibar attended Pinetown Indian Government School behind the police station, he points out for the assembled audience of family and friends seated in the large lounge. He reached Standard Three. He proudly recalls that in Standards Two and Three he came first in class.
Ratibar prides himself in his prowess on the soccer field and the athletics track. The main prizes were cups and saucers, although he did win a trophy as an adult. That picture showing a lithe, muscular Ratibar finds pride of place on the wall of one of the Clare Estate house’s many rooms.
After school he found a job in a shop owned by a Muslim trader who sold vegetables. He also worked for Trotter’s Jelly in Pinetown, earning 10 shillings a week, which was sufficient to buy the week’s groceries.
Around 1941, Ratibar got a job in the city at Arundel Tearoom, near the old Snake Park, as a sand waiter. That involved taking orders James Ratibar is happiest when surrounded by his brood of children and grandchildren. trip to India that he had been saving up for.
The shop owner was dependant on him and could not see his way clear to release him for a vacation.
The trip for Ratibar and his wife was booked through the travel agent, AI Kajee. They flew from Durban to Bombay via Mauritius, the Seychelles and Sri Lanka.
The Ratibars criss-crossed the subcontinent with a rail pass from Bombay to Delhi, Madras, Mysore, Goa, Calcutta and other cities.
In addition, there was a bus journey to Jammu and Kashmir. Recalling the largely rural setting, he animatedly describes that, “the buses would scrape through the bushes”.
The nonagenarian has a phenomenal memory, rattling off his stops in chronological order. The homeward journey was on the legendary mail ship, the SS Karanja, on its last trip.
It was every bit as eventful as the one before, with sojourns in Karachi, Mombasa and Lourenço Marques. The Ratibars loved the markets of Karachi, shopping for gold jewellery, his wife’s favourite gifts.
In later years, they toured Europe. Ratibar boasts about staying opposite St James’s Palace in London before crossing the channel to visit Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Austria and stops in between.
He shoots a quick glance around the room in the direction of the assembled grandchildren as he recalls Amsterdam’s red-light district. There’s a naughty twinkle in his eye as he slyly censors that line of dialogue.
It’s amazing that as a workingclass shop assistant and waiter he was able to save enough to lavish jewellery on his wife, build a house, make long overseas trips and educate his children. The grand old man puts it down to thrift, wit and a few other money secrets. He tells the grandchildren: “If you earn R200, put R40 in the bank first.”
His last job in the hospitality industry was as the second in charge at the iconic Queen’s Tavern in Greyville. That restaurant was styled as the British Middle East India Club with a specialisation in curries. Ratibar still recalls minute details of its menu and prices.
Throughout his life, Ratibar religiously avoided the waiters’ curse of drink and gambling. Needless to say, there will not be champagne corks popping when he turns 94 this week, but there will be plenty of love and laughter with his large brood. James Ratibar has more energy and clarity of mind than people a quarter his age.
It is no good wishing him good health and long life. He has been blessed with the elixir of eternal youth.