“The voice from the grave” Updated 26.01.2025 ( as a Blog)

 

Simon was born on  5th August 1880 in Bastora Goa to Alex and Laura Kika. He had a one-year younger brother Trevor .

Simon spoke fluent English, Hindi, and Konkani.

 

At that time, Goa was a sleepy Portuguese colony on the Indian sub-continent while the rest of the sub-continent was firmly in British hands. Relations between the two were good though.

Portuguese cuisine had been integrated into Goan cuisine.

The Christian faith had further cemented the two cultures. One thing apart from religion that stood out a mile, for example the time keeping. Like Brazil, another Portuguese colony, if someone says that he comes at ten, you can expect him around midday. Time stands still.

Having a siesta, lying on a hammock, on a pristine white beach, with the fresh sea air blowing, the smell of the salt from the warm waters. It was tranquil. Hearing the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore.

It is lunch time. You have just had a dip in the warm sea and  hear  light music being played in the nearby beach shack  “Galmo” , in Konkani, prawn in English, fifty meters away. Earlier you had ordered freshly grilled fish from there. The smell of the food  wafts to you, as your stomach rumbles and grumbles. You amble  to this  shack. There are coconut trees above the beach.

This was where Simon Kika  came into the world. It was his  paradise.

Both the parents  were endowed with music talent, which they had passed down to their sons. Simon  was slim, with curly black locks and was   a bundle of energy.

Trevor  was the exact opposite, quiet  and reserved except when he was playing music, he let his hair down, which was also curly. He was well built and athletic.

Alex originally a trained doctor, worked with the Portuguese Consulate in Goa. He was fluent in English, Portuguese, and Hindi. He studied medicine in Lisbon and London and had often visited both places. On his return trips he usually brought a number of ornate articles including furniture, which he  used to furnish his Portuguese style house in Bastora. This he had built on a large plot of land that he had inherited from his father a few years earlier.

This was  Simon’s dream house  which was  near the beach.

The house  had lofty ceilings. In the front leading up to an open covered veranda were three long stone steps.

At the back of the veranda was a small dance floor which accommodated at least twenty dancing pairs. Next door were the toilet facilities. Music, dancing, and food are an integral part of the Goan culture.
At the back was a door leading to a corridor where a large  kitchen was housed. 

It had a stone floor which kept it  cool. Food was cooked on three small  wood fires.

There were five large bedrooms  each with its own  on-suite bathroom. The floors were ornate with small mosaic tiles. Each room had a large four-poster double bed with curtains for privacy. Ornate old furniture pieces from London and Lisbon, added  to its charm.

As there was no running water there was  a hundred foot deep well. Equipped with a pulley, rope, and wooded bucket  and with a  protective covering  to prevent accidents and keep the water below clean.

At the back was the large dining room with a king-sized dining table for eight people. On one wall was a large, framed picture of The Last Supper, reenforcing  the Catholic-Goan tradition. In the corridor was a small table with a white embroidered tablecloth. On it were two small statues of Jesus and Mary. Incense burnt day and night.

At the  Holy Cross mixed school, he befriended Brian Fernandez. Brian shared the same passion for music as Trevor and Simon. It was not unusual for the three of them to practice  playing music in the  nearby food beach shack “Galmo.” They often played impromptu there in the evenings and provided light entertainment for the guests dining there. Laura seeing their talent then gave the boys the go ahead to practice  playing in their music room at home. This was the birth of ‘The Penguins.’  

Simon was nicknamed Romeau in Portuguese, Romeo in English. Despite his  young age, he had broken many  hearts. His appearance, and humour, extrovert character endeared him to the fairer sex.

The music room was in an out-house, away from the main house, that Alex had converted for Laura’s musical tuitions . These she gave at home when the two boys were young and not yet at school .

In one corner there was an old-fashioned piano, which he  had specially shipped from Lisbon .

Trevor played the Tabla and Mhadalem. A Tabla is a pair of Indian hand drums. The Mhadalem is a Goan percussion instrument of  a baked clay cylinder covered with monitor lizard skin at both ends.

On the Tambura, an Indian guitar and Sita was Romeau. Brian played the Shehnai ( a wooden Claranet). They were later joined by the sisters Yaso  and  Sumi, and Avito. All of them were in  the same school and played in the music concerts there. The singing sisters played the piano, and Indian flute.

Avito played the instrument the Goans are famous for, affectionally known as  the fiddle, the violin.

The Penguins, dressed in keeping with their band’s name.

Black shoes bow ties, long waistcoats, white shirts, and a top hat. They  waddled  for village feasts, beach parties, in their  outfit ready for bed, after three hours on the stage.

The slow pace of life in Goa was for Romeau for a fleeting time  bearable. He wanted more, and when an opportunity arose to work in Bombay, he had no hesitation and took it up. This was much to the annoyance of his off-on girlfriend   Myrtle Figueredo, and the other Penguins.

This  opportunity had better job prospects.

Despite this, his relationship with Myrtle initially blossomed as she was able to see Mumbai. There was regular shipping between Goa and Mumbai with a journey time of three hours.

This compared to sleepy Goa, was lively with the  diversity, the pomp, and trumpet blaring by the British. She was  shocked by the disparity of wealth compared to Goa. These extreme differences were hard to take, and soon the excitement was lost. It was him then visiting Goa most of the time.

 

The Break-up

The noise, poverty and the sheer number of people living there also got to him. He told himself he would only be there for a fleeting time, and then return to Goa, to his friends and of course to “The Penguins.’

You can guess what happened then,  they split.

He  packed his bags and with a heavy heart returned to Mumbai.

The pain was unbearable, he was alone. Goa, his family,  his house, the Penguins, were long way away.

His only companion was a bottle of either coconut or cashew feni. These were two favourite Goan tipples. At least one of these accompanied him every night. He wanted out, had also considered committing suicide, but at only twenty-nine, quickly dismissed the idea.

Four months had passed since the break-up. For the first time in his life, Romeau armed with his purse,  left the flat at ten at night. He was not going shopping, as all the shops were shut. He was  window shopping. What was available, attractive, and desirable. All manly instincts, find a woman and the medicine to ease his pain.

His destination was only a few minutes’ walk away. He had often walked by during the daytime, trying to imagine the people who worked there, why, did they have a choice? The red-light area , The Cages. 

 As it name suggested each  woman had her own cage. You walked by the cages and made your selection. There was a small scantly furnished room with a bed at the back, with a curtain between the cage and the room for privacy.

The  Cages were introduced by the British to  satisfy the needs of their soldiers on duty, away from their loved ones, and the need to fulfil their manly instincts, albeit  with the local talent. Often the women were here from the cradle and knew no other life , were  referred to as ‘The Untouchables’ ironically as they provided a service which involved physical contact. They were  the lowest rank in the caste system.

 

He found an attractive young lady. Satisfied, he  returned to his room.

His thought process resulting from a splitting headache, was clouded. The feni from the previous night had not yet had time to work its way out of his system. He was alone again. The pleasure from his earlier encounter was temporary. Reality hit him. A new beginning was needed. 

A months later,  he was homesick for Goa, he came down for his daily breakfast very downhearted .  Ordered his usual fare for breakfast, including the Chronicle  when ....

a large advertisement caught his eye.

The Shan Brothers were urgently looking for Bi-Lingual English-Hindi speakers with organisational and people skills, to work in The East-African Protectorate .

They  were two  businessmen who were asked by the British to supply labour to  build a railway.

Pay was fifty rupees/month, accommodation and food were free. He applied, was seen,  offered and accepted the job offer, under the motto “ no risk no fun.” The job was for initially six months,  with  travel back to India every three months for one week’s holiday.

His was to supervise up to thirty people working on the construction. In  addition, to function as their manager, and build up team spirit, and morale.

This group would be one of many,  building a railway from Mombasa on the coast to Kisumu on Lake Victoria.

He wrote in his diary, 

"It was a ‘Crazy Job opportunity but a fresh challenge. I must bring my life back on the rails.’' 

He remembered the stories that his dad had told him about Africa on his trips to and from Goa to Lisbon and London. The long voyage lasting a few weeks as they had to go round the horn of Africa, as the Suez Canal was at the beginning not yet in operation. The stories that shocked him was the Slave Trade conducted by the Arabs  at Mombasa. Other more interesting stories were about the wild animals that roamed freely and stories about voodoo. This had appealed to his adventurous side  and  was the last card he had to play!

They had one week to prepare as the ship was sailing from Mumbai on Friday 13th January, however he was not superstitious.

He had his team of twenty-five workers on board. They were the Water Buffalo team.

 Their team, as you can imagine was masculine, so there were no feminine comforts, or in fact any comforts at all.

Can you imagine it ?

Four to five men cramped in these luxury tents, as they were supervisors. 

The others were like twenty sardines in a slightly larger canvas can, with no can-opener!

 Coolies was a derogatory term used by the British to describe the Indian workforce, a hangover to the days the Indians were building the railway on the sub-continent. This is what the British thought of them here as well.

Romeau was not spared the manual work of digging, carrying, and doing whatever was needed. It was hard in the heat of the African sun. The sun began its work at six a.m. and ended at about six p.m.

Standing on a mound about twenty feet away was a colour sergeant. This was a  term for a non-commissioned officer in the army. The British were always superior. He was white, Anglo-Saxon, in a khaki uniform, with a bush hat on his head and a truncheon by his side. To help him he had an unloaded rifle and a whistle on a cord around his neck. This was for emergency. Four short blasts and help arrived in the form of three armed soldiers. They often had many unplanned visitors with four legs and a tail, who were checking on the work progress and also something for their evening meal. The term sitting "Sitting Ducks" fitted them to a "T".

They had no electricity in their mobile tents, and paraffin lamps provided them with light at night.

An entry for  March in  Romeau ’s Logbook.

The Friendly Neighbourhood Watch

Our neighbours  are not so fortunate as us living in tents. Their homes are in caves, or just out in the open. Most of them have four legs, they live in large groups and are extremely fast. They are herbivorous and  in their back and white striped pyjamas day or night, ready for bed. These are zebra.

Oh! The birds there. Tall, not fully dressed. No, that is not what you think. You would not go down on one knee and propose to them.

They look ugly and ungainly. These, I have never seen before. They had long legs and necks, are extremely fast. What was so interesting about them,  there is  no runway long enough for them to take off. They are grounded and are noted for burying their heads in the sand. In addition, they lay white eggs the size of a small football. Their kick is powerful. I have learnt a new Swahili word ‘mbuni,’   ostrich in English.

 Africa has its own water buffalo, these are herbivorous, but unlike our Indian variety are not tame, and cannot be petted. Many of my fellow workers do not realise it and pay with their lives. These creatures are fat, with  four short legs, large teeth, and spend most of their time keeping clean in water. Their bedfellows are also not very sociable, and both these tribes fight for “King of the water title.” They are at home both in water and land .  They are hippos and crocodiles .

 I still have a lot more to tell  you who also lives in this  harmonious community.

 Not all of them have two or four feet. In fact, they are legless. These we were  familiar in India, but in Africa there are greater variety of them. Most of them are deadly. In India we have three different variations of the cobra, here there are four. These had earlier made the journey across the ocean looking for work and are now fully integrated into the society here.

Nature here is in its element.

We have to build a bridge in Tsavo to span the river. This is to be  no normal bridge, as it is in the middle of nowhere, only frequented by wild animals.

End of log-book entry.

 

Yoshika ’s story. (New added 24.01.2025)

Romeo loved his music, his “Penguin Friends”   would be  no longer there with him.

He had to pursue his love for music in Bombay. Music, he thought to himself ,

 “This would  open the doors for developing new friendships and also learn a new culture, and   maybe … other interesting things in skirts.”

 He had learnt a lot of the “Portuguese Culture” how strongly it was wrapped in Catholicism. India under the British Raj, was he suspected totally different. It was Christian, however Henry VIII with his sexual antiques had brought into religion another dimension namely divorce.

Asking around his friends how he could establish contact with like-minded musicians like him he was informed by Brian, his good friend.

 "Romeau,"  

He said,

 "I have some good news for  you. I have asked around and  there  are some Goans in Bombay, who play music, practice it three to four times a week. I mentioned to them that you are good in music, are part of our beloved "Penguins",  here, and were looking for opportunities to play. They were extremely impressed with your credentials  in music and said that you could contact them by placing  a notice  on the  ´Notice  Board,’ at the Goan Institute with your contact details .

 He added,

  “I have the contact information of one of the members that play, I will give it to you the next time we meet."

 That was the breakthrough Romeau wanted, and his "Musical Bombay Adventure" had added another "String to his bow" .  When he arrived in Bombay, after getting suitable accommodation, the Goan Institute in Bombay was his next port of call.

He gave his name, new address, and wrote a brief note as to what he had done in music and was looking for musicians to play with. A few days  later, he returned to his flat, and there was a note saying .

 “Dear Friend,  Welcome to Bombay. We practice playing music, hopefully to your taste on  Mondays and Wednesdays, at the Goan Institute, in the Hall, from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. ,  my name is George Fernandes, I  would love to have a “Penguin” playing with us. Your reputation for music,  has already reached the shores of Bombay,  why do not just “Waddle along”,   and join us. We have “Pea Cocks and Pea Hens in our group and will be propping up  the bar before we start.”

We will   recognise you in your black and white outfit. “

 regards George.

 After work  on Wednesday, he quickly rushed hope, grabbed a bite to eat, and took a rick-Shaw to the club armed with his sitar, but not in his “penguin outfit.”

That was the start of an incredibly positive musical adventure in Bombay. There he met Yoshika.

She was an attractive twenty-year-old Hindu/Goan , who was a singer. She was fluent in Hindi, Marathi, and English .

There were seven in all including him, two young attractive women singers,  five men.

Friendships quickly developed, and he was no longer marooned alone in Bombay. They also often  socialised, and this was just up his street. Their group was “The Bombay Sandpipers.”

Yoshika had just finished her higher education and lived with her parents who were fairly well off and lived above their family shop in Kolaba. His friendship with her grew  through music, and he told her a lot about his “Penguins,” and what they did.

He told her a  about Goa, and she was so fascinated, as she had never been there.

 She said,

  “Romeo, I would love to visit Goa.

 He smiled, and said ,

 “I can arrange it for you. Tell me when you want to go, I have good friends there who would I am sure love to meet you.”

 This was the start of the close friendship between the two, and  this was a new experience for Romeau,  as it  was like a brotherly love for a younger sister, not a lover. She  looked up to him as he was older and wiser.

 Then a few months later tragedy struck. She lost both her parents in a fire which destroyed her house and family shop. She was devastated. He unfortunately at this time had gone to Goa to see his family, and was shocked to hear about the fire, and   that her parents perished in the fire as well.

The poor girl had no one to turn to for help apart from her wealthy uncle who  she had me very often when he came over, She had never been to his house. On offer of accommodation there she gladly accepted the offer as  there seemed no alternative at the time, and no one  she could ask for advice.

This he all learnt later on his return to Bombay when she did not show up at their music practice. He did not know where she was living now, she however knew where he was living, and he hoped that she would contact him soon, as he was worried for her.

 A few days later she appeared at his doorstep, on his return from work.

 He look her in his arms and said,

 “I have been so worried about you. Have you been   fine? “.

 “No,”

She said,

 “ The last three weeks have been dreadful. The house and shop burning down, with Mum and Dad inside, and both perished. “

 She burst into  tears and held him tight.

 She continued,

 “I really could have done with you….’Big Brother,’  That I was so alone, frightened, and heartbroken. That was bad enough  organising the cremation, as the fire had burnt  both bodies.

 Uncle Agarwal, mum’s brother then offered to help, by saying that he had a place where I could stay, and he would help me financially. This was an offer I could not refuse, as I had no alternative. On the face of it sounded a generous offer,  however I have subsequently  found out that it was totally unsuitable for a girl like me.”

 She continued sobbing and said...

 “Please help me.

 The last three weeks have been hell, and Romeau  that is not all, just the beginning.

I went to the accommodation that my uncle had provided. It was on the surface a wonderful place. A large six-bedroom house, with an attached outhouse with five bedrooms,  spacious garden, well furnished. I first saw it and it looked fantastic. He said that initially I could do some administrative work , cooking and then depending on how I got on , we would both talk  and decide.

 There were ten women  sharing the main house, this meant that they shared the bedrooms, two women in each. It looked a good offer on the surface, and after a few days…. actually two , it seemed that a lot of “White” men , actually British Soldiers frequented the well-furnished outhouse. I asked one of the girls  why this was and was shocked at her answer.

It was an  ‘Upmarket brothel.”  “Red Carpeted Cages,” I was so shocked.

“The Cages,” as you know in Falkland Road, are terrible,  “Women  behind Cages”   waiting for customers. The clientele here are not the poor men who want sexual favours, but the rich , white British soldiers. As I was fluent in English, Hindi, and Marathi, I was initially to communicate between customers who wanted sex, with the women who provided this service...

I also had to teach English three times a week to the women who were servicing the men. This was not the “normal Cages,” as  the women selected had to have certain talents. Good physical assets,  stylish , at least average communication skills in English, and Hindi and Marathi. They should be not older than forty.

The normal cages were “Cages,”   in the true sense of the word. The poor women were treated like animals and hardly saw  the light of day.

I then was alerted when two weeks later after the burial service for my parents when my uncle asked me.

“Are you still a virgin or are you sexually active.”

 This was a “Red flag”,  and I refused to answer and in turn asked him.

 “Why does that matter, and this topic only concerns me,“ 

I replied.

 He was shocked with this reply and quickly changed the subject. This simple  question from him, send warning bells, and I was then sure that he wanted me as well to work for him as a prostitute as he had lost two of his “best girls.”

This was the signal to me that I must get out from this place as soon as it was possible.

There were other things which I heard that also shocked me, but I will tell you later. That is why  at the  first possible moment, I jumped ship, and am at your doorstep with my few belongings, and are at your mercy.”

 He said,

“Welcome home” , “It will be a tight squeeze  as the flat is small, but we will manage.” 

She gave him a small peek on his face,  and said,

“  I was right about you from the start, you have a big heart, even though you are amorous  hence your nickname Romeau,  I knew that I could depend on you in my hour of need.”

“We have to get you on your feet as soon as possible, the music group may be able to help.”

 he added.

 “At the next  Music  Jam session.”

 Yoshika came  with him;  the rest of the group were incredibly surprised at the sudden entrance of the young lady after a long absence period.

 Romeau said,

  “Friends  can we not talk about it today, it is for her a challenging time now,  and needs all our help. There we both can tell you what has happened to the poor girl. I would like to suggest dinner on Saturday at  the Shamiana restaurant, where she and I will tell you what has happened, … it I must say was a “Nightmare for her”,   and we must get her back on her feet. I am sure you will all help. You all know that this is our favourite restaurant. Can you all make it at 8 p.m., and if so, I will make a reservation ? ”

They all nodded their heads in approval.

 Romeo   had asked around about  “The Cages”,   at work. He was shocked   to hear what this colleagues and friends had to say. They told him of horrific stories,  that as the name suggested, the available women sat behind a caged door, like an animal. What shocked him was that this was a “life sentence” for many of the women. Villages were raided, and young attractive girls/women between the ages of sixteen and  twenty-five  were either abducted or lured to work in Bombay under false pretences with promises of good wages and accommodation. In the villages they were struggling to make ends meet. This for many was their “death knell” , and they never often made it home , back to the village. Once there in “The Cages”,   they had no chance of escape. By the very nature of their new “Occupation”,   there they were caged until they lost the will to escape. There were no precautions taken to prevent pregnancies from the very service to men they were providing. This resulted in children being born there. The women born there were to make the new generation of “Sex Workers.”

He was so horrified, as he had used the service of “The Cages”  earlier.

 The meal on the Saturday with the group after Yoshika told them what had happened was sombre.

However, all of them wanted to help, and after some discussion, Yoshika, could stay with Romeau until suitable accommodation could be found, and she had a job to support herself. They all said that they would help financially in what they could.

 Yoshika, was talented  with her ability to sing, speak fluently English, Hindi and Marathi, after some asking round was fully occupied. She gave English, and music lessons to wealthy families’ children at their family home and received exceptionally good remuneration.

Ironically  within a few months she was overbooked and was  able to move into her own small apartment, with the money she inherited from the death of her parents.

 Four months later she invited the whole music group to a meal to celebrate her success.

 Romeau then continued staying connected with her when he was in Africa  by their frequent exchange of  letters. 

 

(End of New Addition)

 Dinner for Two!

They were in  savannah Africa. Epitomised by long grass, Acacia trees and watch sentinels, giraffes  always on duty. Nearby were herds of zebra and deer. Their water holes were nearby. However, one had to be watchful as danger lurked round the corner.

The incessant chatter of birds not singing in unison could be heard. It was virgin territory, unspoilt by man. Mombasa on the coast was the only populated area,  seventy miles away.

Nomadic tribes lived inland. They went from place to place to find fresh pastures for their goats, cows, and sheep.

In addition to his normal work, as a supervisor, Romeau had  to write letters home, for these semi-literate men. This often was one of his pleasanter tasks. The men also received letters from their family. These he also read aloud. He re-read them aloud when the men were homesick as well, at their request.

Then he filed the letters. Can you imagine the loneliness of these men away from their family. One aspect of this letter-writing was  informing the man’s family of sickness, for example, homecoming, or  sometimes the man’s death.

The men also had a love for music, which was of a different kind to that he knew.

Ahmed, in his group, had also brought his ‘sister’,  no,  his sitar. He and Ahmed both played  twice or thrice a week for about one or two hours for the men, after their evening meal, before a bonfire. A highlight for the men This was the  only other social gathering they had. Not only did it boost morale in the group but enhanced his status with his men. This form of entertainment was his idea. Soon others in the camp bought into this, and other musicians  joined it.

Can you imagine it "Hindi music", being played in the " Heart of Africa."  

I am sure that this was music to the ears of the many four-legged inhabitants and also those legless ones who crawled on their bellies and  joined in these musical evenings, later to see  what potential was on their menu. Initially out of range of the campfires. Entrance to these impromptu events for all was free.

These musical evenings has an incredibly positive impact on the men's morale , and soon friendships across diverse groups were established.

He documented deaths in his logbook. There were two deaths attributed to the plague. The two were young men. He organised the cremation and then wrote two sad letters to their families explaining what had happened. It was hard as often the man was the sole bread winner.

Credit to their company Shan Brothers, the main employers of the workers, the family in such a case received a small compensation of two hundred rupees. He had also to arrange the return of their belongings, which was not a pleasant thing.

Living with these men day and night, he quickly developed bonds with them. It was the first time in his young life where he was confronted with so many deaths of people he knew. This happened  not only in his,  but also in other groups.

Even though he was a Christian, he  understood a bit better of Hinduism. He often thought about his family in Goa and Myrtle, his last love, his home. News, letters from Goa were rare.

They were working seventy miles from Mombasa, in an area where wildlife roamed freely, Tsavo. A bridge to span a large valley was needed. That was difficult. Then something happened which was at the start unexplainable.

 Men started disappearing as if by magic. Why did he  say magic? In equatorial Africa. Many of the Africans believe in voodoo, and Black-magic, however there were no witchdoctors in sight. In fact, seeing an African was a rarity. Reports from the other  groups indicated that a number of the workers had also failed to return. There was nowhere for these  men to go. Mombasa was too far away. It was also during the rainy season. They had in the past, many deaths due to illness, natural causes, accidents. The severe drought a few months earlier, had meant that many of the herders lost their cattle. The cattle were prey for many of the wild animals  and now this source of food was scarcer.

As in Hindu practice in India, the dead were burnt, to free the person’s spirit. It was the rainy season. The burning of the dead was done in an open space outside   the camp perimeter quite  a long way away, because of the fire threat, this was done on wooden pyres. Often the rain put the fires out before the bodies were burnt. The mourners  did not hang about, and returned to the campsite, for fear of the wild animals.

Back to the story of the missing men. Where could they have gone. There were no visible clues left by the perpetrators. It  was not the Africans, as their nearest settlement was miles away. Then they made an interesting discovery. The heavy rain had put out the fires on the funeral pyres. However, the bodies were no longer there. Can you believe what this discovery meant? No fingerprints, and the body was missing!

First a few men disappeared, then their bodies on a funeral pyre disappeared as well. The penny dropped. Wild animals were targeting them, lions.

There was panic as the word spread like wildfire. There was no perimeter fence round their encampment.

The   Commander Lieutenant Watson, at once stopped the work. He ordered a perimeter fence to be built with the branches of chopped down Acacia trees, as these are very thorny.

After the tenth death, they were sure it was lions. Romeau and the other leaders could not take any more. After a quick discussion, they decided that they must speak to the commander  and demand immediate action. Romeau was lucky  as up till now his group had escaped this fate. But for how long?

He had already lost two men from illness. Were any of them destined for the lion’s dinner plate? There were always three armed British officers when they were working. However, it got worse. The fences and the fires did not stop the intrusions into their campsite at night. Lions as a rule do not kill humans for food as Zebra and deer and cattle are easier. Man is cleverer and not so tasty.

Three weeks had passed since the first man’s disappearance. The lions were still free. 

 The Letters

As he mentioned earlier, he had to play a large part in the lives of the men in his team. Not only were they rubbing shoulders every day but were also eating together. This increased contact, which for example in Mumbai, or Goa  was limited,  meant that they were closer to each other as humans. Living, eating, working together   for prolonged periods of time. While he did not become good friends with all of them, he understood them better, and vice versa.

 The letter writing and often re-reading  the letters  to his men had also given him an insight into their lives and their problems. These were often men on the lowest rung of the social ladder. Something he thinks he would never have experienced in Mumbai or Goa.

He was a peoples’ man, and he valued this trait. There were three diverse cultures, Hindu, Christian and Muslim. This was a very enlightening perspectives to get.

He was the cement in the team. The only Christian. They were living together in each other’s pockets for twenty-four hours. What really impressed him was that these men, had put aside their differences and started up friendships that would never have been possible. When something terrible happened to one in the team, the others rallied round.

This incident stuck  in his mind. In his diary-log he had written.

“On Thursday 15th February, one of my men went missing. I have  no idea why. He must have got up at night for a call of nature. There was no trace of him in the morning.”

They searched everywhere. There was only one logical conclusion Romeau came to at ten a.m. The man was a victim of the lions. He must have been surprised not in the tent but outside in performing a call of nature, as his place in the tent was undisturbed. This episode sent a chilling warning to him. He knew this man well.

He went to the British quarters, and asked, what safety measures   did the British have in mind to stop this terrible thing occurring.

 He was then told that by now at least  forty men had fallen victim to the lions. 

The British officer said, 

“Tomorrow we are getting reinforcements, and then we will hunt down these beasts, with five armed men. We found an African tracker, who will lead them to where these beasts lived. “

This was welcome news; it could not have come sooner.

He now had the terrible job of writing a letter to the dead man’s  family in India, to inform them of what happened.

 He had a few weeks ago written to another man’s family informing them of his death, a suspected heart attack. This was painful, however he was able to come to terms with the death, as it was natural, and they were able to perform the funeral ceremony in the ‘True Hindu ‘tradition , with a body. Here there was no body. They found blood stains, about forty yards from the tent, and the man’s cap nearby. The lions were the only explanation for his sudden disappearance.

 Not only did this whole tragic episode shake him, but as there was also no body, he  still had to write to the dead man’s family informing them what had happened. These skills were alien to him. There was nowhere he could hide, no one to help to console him. He was only still young.

His earlier close friends ,  the bottles of feni , the Cages which had come to his rescue some time ago in  in Mumbai, were not there.

His only salvation was his bible and his Christian faith. It was his strong belief in God, that this poor man’s soul was in a better place. He prayed  for strength to write the letter to the man’s family. His name was Wasan Chopra. His wife’s name was Anisha.

This is a copy of the letter he wrote in English, and in Hindi. The Hindi Version of the letter was sent to Mumbai to Anisha, Wasan’s wife.

 

18^th  February 1902

Dear Anisha,                                              

                               Re Your husband Wasan

 

My name is Simon Kika.

I am the team leader of the Water Buffalo team in the East African Protectorate, building the railway there. Wasan was a member of my team. In the brief time I have been leading this group of  men, I was lucky to get to know your husband well. He spoke highly of you Anisha. About how you two met.

I am sorry to break the shocking news to you, but sadly your husband passed away a few days ago. The reason for  his death is being investigated and is painful.

That is why this letter is personally brought to you by Udi Patel from the personnel department   of Shan Brothers in Mumbai. Udi will console you and inform you of the financial settlement for the loss of your dear husband. She will also inform you of the tragic circumstances of how this happened.

I will visit you personally the next time when I am in Mumbai. All the members of our team send our sincere condolences. For this we have made a  collection, in our small way to say sorry. We were fortunate and proud to know Wassan. I have put his belongings together and they will soon follow.

Yours Sincerely,

Simon Kika.

Tsavo, Mombasa.

 

 

The Hunt

Several weeks passed after the death of Wassan. There were at least ten more deaths  attributed to the two-man eaters. The total estimated deaths were  thirty.

The British were under pressure to catch these  animals, as the men  refused to work until they were protected. The British were hamstrung. They had the guns, but no idea how to find the lions. They were so used to fighting men in wars and battles, but animals were a different calibre, no guns, but a natural hunting instinct .

 

In the next  Masai Boma the commander found an animal tracker. The Masai are  warriors and hunters and have had to deal with wild animals, to protect their livestock.

Within a week of being on the job,  Juma, had led the four green horn British soldiers to the hideout of these two beasts.

The end for the two lions, was thankfully swift and humane. The cloud that had been over them was lifted.

Even though the lions had taken so many men, what was remarkable was that the Hindus, respected nature. It taught him a lot. 

 

They said, 

“The animals must also live “.

This lesson was particularly important to him, and he decided to go back to Goa his home, his paradise, and his Penguins.

He had just celebrated his thirty-first birthday. There was no celebration, no party, no cake, or candles to blow out, or cards received.

What really struck me was that in the short space of time  he had experienced three different environments.

Goa, sleepy, laid back, his home. Little poverty, his music with the Penguins, his Catholic faith  with mass every Sunday. The celebration of religious feasts. The Goan-Portuguese  cuisine  the food, his close family, and the admiration from the opposite sex.

He dreamt of  Goa  

”Sitting on the balcony after the evening meal then saying the rosary at six p.m. Finally, Brian and he  drink  coconut feni while playing chess. He could hear his heartbeat. ”

Mumbai, his nine  months there was quite an experience. The number of people, the noise there. This  was no comparison to that in Goa or Africa.

 There was a lot to do, many restaurants and of course The Cages. His last  delightful experiences  there were only a memory. He  had since then become ‘Celibate,’ not due to choice.

Goa was the total opposite, a long way from reality. A two- or three-weeks holiday to recharge  his batteries, with lovely women and  tasty food and then consider his options.

Living in close quarters with these men had shown him that a different life was possible, with poor people. He embraced Hinduism, which before he only knew how to spell the word. This had since changed. Hindus were also people, even though their aspirations a lot lower than his.

He had previously no idea of Islam. This was also for him a new experience as what he knew about Islam, could be written on the back of a postal stamp.

There was no animosity between the Muslims and  Hindus in his team. Every morning and evening, the Muslims took out their small carpets, went outside the tents, and placed the carpets in the direction they thought ‘Mecca’ was and prayed.

Can you imagine it, a devout Catholic, holding court with Muslims, and  Hindus, and living in harmony.

He will return to Africa. The few wild animals he had seen there had whetted his appetite . It was fantastic, the African living in harmony with nature. Hinduism had taught him a lot about animals, and their right to live, and they should respect animals as the African had done.

All this made him determined to go back home. Charge his batteries. Get his love life back on the road again. Find a Mrs. Right to bring back to Africa. Was that then only ‘Pie in the Sky?

Two weeks later after informing his manager Mr Sorpotel the manager at Shan Brothers, that he wanted to return, he took the next ship back to Bombay.