A Meditation on ABUNDANCE &  a visit to my Homeland. Zanzibar. 2019 (Part 1 of 2)

The House of Wonders or Beit al Ajaib

By Bhadra Vadgama

My last visit to Zanzibar was in July 1999. So it was over 20 years since I visited my place of birth. In the meantime, ‘in the year 2000, Zanzibar Stone Town was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List due to its globally important heritage and build environment.’ So I was expecting a better state of the town since my last visit.

It so happened that I was going there with my historian friend Rozina Visram. I always called her Rozy. She and I shared a desk at the Government Girls’ Secondary School in Zanzibar from 1953-1956. We both moved to Britain in 70s where she became a teacher and later author of some major works on the 400 years of the history of Asians in Britain. We both had taught at our old school in Zanzibar and also in Uganda and Kenya. In Britain, I had changed my career and my major occupational years were spent as the Librarian in charge of the London Borough of Wandsworth’s Multicultural Library.

My visit to Zanzibar coincided with a ten days meditation I was doing with some family members. The theme of the Meditation was ABUNDANCE. There was a recorded message every day to make me aware of abundance in all sorts of things around me as well as my inner self. So I was feeling quite uplifted and, as if to prove it to me that there was truth in these messages, I had new experiences of abundance every day.

First, we went to Daressalaam. There the beauty of tropical trees, flowers, the waters of the Indian Ocean, the beautiful sunrise and sunsets - all - were proof of the abundance in nature. The welcome from my brother, sister, and other extended family members was the abundance of love that I experienced from human beings. I also managed to go and listen to a visiting lecturer from India who talked about how misunderstanding occurs and how to avoid it. It was very enlightening. He even sent me the link of his talk once he got back to India.

My niece Leena took great care of me, showing me the newly developed parts of Daressalaam. With her and her husband Franco, and children Sonia & Alexandro, I enjoyed a drink in an open-air restaurant at Slipway and window shopping the wide range of interesting things on sale. We had pizzas while watching the sunset at the Yacht Club. When we were young, these were the domains of the local Europeans.

Again, because Leena has a wide range of female friends, she took me to one of her ultra-rich friends’ house for an all-female party. The apartment was on the top floor of a high-rise building. The view of Oyster Bay was phenomenal. Freshly made food was being served by a maid. Alcoholic drinks were on offer as well. The house was adorned with rare antiques, and although the hostess was Muslim, many were of Hindu and Buddhist background, mostly from India. Wherever I looked, there was an object of interest. The hostess was an artist, so she displayed her artwork for the guests to enjoy. In the end, she gave a talk to the guests about her success in life! I must say it was a unique experience.

View of the Beit al Ajaib from the Jafferji Hotel (170 Gizenga Street)

Then we went to Zanzibar for five nights and six days. We stayed at the Jafferji Hotel & Spa. This used to be the house in which I grew up. The landlords of the house had converted it into a hotel. It was a wonderful experience to actually spend 2 days in it. Sitting in the big hall - which used to be our dining room cum major activities room for a family of 11 siblings, and in which we had held memorable events like Bhagvat Saptah, classical music concerts by eminent singers from India, banquets for dignitaries like the Indian Navy officers, Indira Gandhi, Julius Nyerere and the Indian High Commissioner for India Apa Panth - the feeling of peace and tranquillity as if I had never left ‘home’ engulfed me. Old memories of childhood days came back with inner gratitude and bliss. However, it was unusual to have a free-standing bathtub in this room. I was told they would fill it up with perfumed water if I wished to have a soak!

Our suite was named ‘Jafferji’ after the owner; another, which was our girls’ bedroom was called ‘Mercury’ after Freddie Mercury; we were lucky to see it as it was vacant then. On the wall were photos of Freddie. Part of the building was turned into a honeymoon suite and named 'Kamasutra'.

Although called a Jafferji Hotel & Spa, the hotel had no spa. I was told that one of the shops, which was once a printing press, was going to be converted into a spa and therapy suite.

The other shop, which was rented by a cobbler - a Surati mochi (mochi - cobbler or shoemaker), was now converted into the reception area of the hotel.

The owners have built an extra floor above what used to be our kitchen. Together with our old terrace, the whole floor has been converted into a kitchen and dining room area, retaining the kind of wooden carved parapet, the same as we had in other parts of the house. From here we got a beautiful view of the harbour and the surrounding buildings, including the Roman Catholic Church, Beit-el-Ajaib, a couple of mosques, and the Hindu Temple, reflecting the multi-religious community in which I grew up. It was nostalgic to recognise some familiar buildings, like Jani House, the Bohra School, and the terraces of our old neighbours.

Oh, I forgot to mention that some other guests were quite interested to hear that I grew up in that house. When we got into conversation with them, one young Dutch couple showed us their suite, which used to be my parent’s bedroom with an adjacent room that contained a bathroom. What an experience!

Must visit the site to see inside the rooms by clicking on SUITES. Our Jafferji suite and Kamasutra suites are superior suites. My parents’ room is Princess Salme Suite; our girls’ bedroom is Mercury Suite. You will be amazed to see the transformation of our old house.

 http://jafferjihouse.net

The hotel also ran cooking classes for tourists, and once again, I couldn’t stop being a teacher and ended up instructing a young British man on how to roll a chapati!

Stone Town Street Scene

Walking around the town brought different kinds of memories. 

We visited our old school on the seafront. It was in a pathetic state and was for sale. We went to Seyyida Matuka School, the new school for girls where both Rozy and I had taught. We visited the Funguni Spit, behind Sultana Cinema, the area where Rozy lived. The creek has been reclaimed now. From there, we walked to the shop where my father had his automobile business., which had now turned into a tourist agency. Abundance hadn’t deserted me yet, and we were treated with fresh coconut water by the Kutchhi-speaking owner. We passed by the house where I was born. I remembered various people, friends and families as we walked by their homes and shops. Buildings in Stone Town seemed to be in much better condition than what I had seen 20 years ago. We visited the Catholic Church but couldn’t go inside as it was locked.

It was strangely pleasant to see the shops once owned by Indians now with local African owners. However, I missed the variety of goods that used to be sold in the Indian shops when I was a child, as most shops now sell the same kind of artifacts and handicrafts that attract tourists. Only three shops I came across were run by Indians. One was owned by a Bohora lady, selling books and postcards and one sold shoes - both in Shangani. One in Sokomohogo had sweets, cigarettes, and biscuits on sale. I was told there were more shops owned by Indians as you walk towards the Market area. Regretfully, we didn’t get the opportunity to visit that part of the town. (to be continued)

Princess Salme of Zanzibar

Early one day in 1866 a young woman dressed in the black bui-bui robes of a Muslim stepped onto the Zanzibar town beach near Shangani Point. (Shangani means 'the place of beads'). She had the posture of a royal person, purposeful and erect for she was a Princess of Zanzibar. However she was also the daughter of a slave. Her name was Princess Salme bint Said and her father was the greatest Sultan of Zanzibar and Oman, Sultan Said al Busaid and her mother, Jilfidan, a Circassian concubine of the harem. Her half-brother was the current Zanzibar Sultan, Majid bin Said and the next sultan, Sultan Barghash bin Said another brother. 

Following Princess Salme were two servant women. Ostensibly she was there to take part in a religious ceremony, a formal washing in the sea. In fact she was there to elope, to save her life, for she was an unmarried woman and pregnant. Furthermore, she had formed a relationship with an infidel, a German Christian. The step she was taking might save her life but would change it for ever. So dangerous was her plan that she had not even told her trusted servants what she was about to do.

A rowing boat from a British warship approached the shore. Two men leapt out into the shallow tropical water. Salme’s servants screamed in terror at the strange white men and tried to pull their mistress away but she escaped their clutches, ran to the boat and was carried aboard. She did not wail and scream as they did.

Princess Salme carried with her a small bag containing all her jewels and gold. She must have realised that it was unlikely that she would ever return and in that bag she secreted a small container of sand – the pure white tropical sand of Zanzibar. It would be found in her possessions when she died 58 years later. 

Alastair Hazell described the story in his book, 'The Last Slave Market' as follows,

"The first day of the Muslim year was known in Zanzibar as Nauruzi or Siku ya Mwaka, and on that night it was customary for the women to bathe in the sea and pray for good health in the coming year. In 1866, Nauruzi fell on 24 August, and that was the night planned for Seyyida Salme to leave Zanzibar....After dark, she and two of her slaves went down to the beach, and no one paid much attention as they walked into the shallow water. During the festival there was much fooling around, laughter and high spirits, so when one of the slave girls was heard running from the beach shrieking loudly, no one took any notice. But the next day the Highflyer (British Navy) left her anchorage, sailing during the night without the usual notification, and Seyyida Salme had not returned to her house."