The Valley's of Life: The Journey

By Cecilia Mgimba

This is the story of young girl from Tanzania.
Her struggles through life.


She started out wanting to be a nun.
But her experience with nuns who runs the college put her off.


A poor young girl goes to college away from home, left to fend for herself.



Through hardiship and traumatic life,
how the young beautiful woman struggles against male domination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Nov 24, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456806934

Book preview

Copyright © 2010 by Cecilia Mgimba.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2010916145

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4568-0692-7

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4568-0691-0

ISBN: Ebook             978-1-4568-0693-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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0-800-644-6988

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Dedication

The family of Mgimba and my beautiful daughter

Llawella Jenkins

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

With a big thank you to my friends who helped me with this book.

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Chapter 1

I finished standard seven at the age of 15. My parents came from Njombe district, which is in the south of Tanzania. My father’s occupation was a driver. I was six months old when my parents left Uwemba Village which is on the outskirts of Njombe. My father has always been a long distance truck driver.

According to my father, there was not much for young people in Uwemba! My mother did not work other than being a housewife. They both decided to move away to a better place. Particularly my father as he always liked to have different experiences of life. They eventually settled in Iringa, the town which has a lot of historical views, sites and a completely different culture and language. There were a lot of different companies run by Asian societies. That was the bright side of the place that my father saw! He eventually had a job in a goods transportation company, dealing internally and externally in Eastern, Southern and Central African countries. Tanzania was the main depot through the Ocean Channels. He was promoted to be in charge of the Company which involved a lot of travelling and living far away for at least six months and sometimes even two years he would be away from his family. Some places he had to go to were very dangerous. At times, he used to get stuck in some war zones. We were so frightened at times when he was in Ruanda. The Hutu and Tutsi were killing each other simply because of a certain tribe being more superior to the other. I remember when that massacre happened. It was all to do with the late Rwandan President who was assassinated in a plane crash. He was just flying back to Ruanda after finishing the Presidential Congregation which was held in Arusha City in Tanzania. His plane was downed by Rwandan people. That is exactly how they started killing each other. My father was in Rwanda waiting for their shipping. We watched the news everyday to keep up to date with their civil war. It was not getting better. The only thing that the Rwandans did was not to attack anyone that was not Hutu or Tutsi. So we as a family had some relief. The Tanzanian Government was very concerned about its people being over in the war zone so they sent a number of buses to collect them and the Rwandan people who were escaping from the trouble. They all settled in Mpanda very deep inside of Tanzania.

In Iringa my father seemed to have a very happy life style. He made a lot of friends in the town. Unfortunately, some friends were not very good to him. They betrayed him on so many occasions in anything that was involved with money, but because of his kindness he would just let them get away with it. My brothers and I used to get so angry about it. We had a lot of foreign items that my father used to bring back home from external other countries. In the neighbourhood people hassled us; wanting to know where we bought the items from! Especially clothes and sometimes music systems and the Southern African records you could never find in Tanzania at that time. After the colonial period the former president Mwalimu Julias Cambarage Nyerere had introduced the country to the socialism and communism system and ran the economics of the country for at least 20 years. It was tough that time. People were not allowed to buy and sell goods. Travel to neighboring countries was also very difficult. It was heartbreaking for people who owned big businesses. They were never allowed to own houses or have wealthy properties, televisions, cars and all sorts. these were only for people who worked for the government The only people who travelled overseas, were from the families whose parents worked for the government, unless they were the cargo transportation workers. A lot of people from the Asian continent had to vacate the country. Although they were the ones that had brought up the country’s economy rapidly. Freedom for them was so squeezed, They were not able to keep their own money but had to hand it to the government by law or bury in the mountains to avoid the police. Everything in the country was doomed after they left. The country was not able to supply enough facilities for its people.

The part that I hated so much was eating the same food every day. The amount of food one family was allowed to get was not enough for everyone. One kilogram of Sembe one kilogram of sugar, one kilogram of rice, ½kg of salt, one litre of cooking oil, one bar of soap without fragrance. ½ meter of piece of material to mend a dress or trousers, no matter what size of the person or the number of people. We all dressed the same. At the time I did not k now how on earth I gained so much weight. I weighed 100kg when the food was scarce. I felt so uncomfortable to walk out and about and most of the time everyone had to work for something the family needed and the jobs were most textile factories. There were always queues on a daily basis to get basics. Water was such a job to fetch in town. At least people in the village had wells. Everyone at that time was so friendly to each other. They shared what little they had to feed their own families so that was a relief. My mum did not use goods that my father brought for her. Instead she sold them although it was dangerous to do so but who cared, when one needed something and there was no chance of getting it and, of cause People in the neighborhood were happy to buy from her. My parents decided to buy plots of land for cultivation. Life was hard for the people in Towns compered to the villagers. My parents thought running a farm would make living better so that we didn’t have to queue for food. Fantastic idea but,it was hard but that’s exactly how it helped us throughout the lean years.

Chapter 2

Iringa is such an interesting region—it has a lot of attractions around it. Surrounded by mountains, it has important, attractive historical sites. Ruaha National Park is situated on the outskirts, which connect the River Ruaha to the horizon of the region. I love walking into the centre of the town.

There are a lot of shops and a lot of things going on every day. The Maasai are the main attraction that tourists come to see, and they often buy their hand-made products. I enjoy having my hair done by them as they can style my hair in a way nobody else would be able to do and they do it very neatly! You can mainly find them at the slave trade memorial walls and huts. They sell very pretty ornaments and historical crafts. The tourists always crowded around them to buy what they sell. Nowadays we all look into their traditions—I think it is interesting and unique. we sometime try to mimic their tradition but it’s not done well.

River Ruaha has some horrible stories—a lot of accidents have happened there. It used to be very spooky and creepy in the ’70’s and after all the murders that have happened there, it is rumored to house ghosts. Long time ago the chiefs and the leaders of the clans used to be buried there. It has now all changed. Huge trees and roads have been built here. Everyone has forgotten that it used to be a cemetery. No wonder accidents have occurred so often!

The Hehe tribe are the original owners of Iringa. Nowadays it is all mixed up with other tribes from across the country. The Hehe have their own fascinating history. The Chief, Mkwawa, fought against Germans when they colonized the country, but he was the only Hehe who was that brave and strong. He was apparently very stubborn! He wore his shoes back to front so that when the Germans were looking for him they went in the wrong direction and that is how he disappeared without a trace!

Some part of its history is still there. As we were in primary school we used to go to the caves to see where the first human beings that ever existed in Iringa lived, and how they obtained their food and clothing. I find Iringa a very fascinating historical place. It was the best place in this town that my parents could have lived. I didn’t know how valuable it was until I realized its importance.

My brothers, their friends and I would go to the river quite a lot. Sometimes we spent a day there eating wild fruits, but there were crocodiles and snakes so it was very dangerous. These snakes were water snakes. When they are on land they live on the wet patch behind. I was so scared that I could not swim. All I remember doing was screaming when I saw those creatures. Also, when it rains the water level rises very high, but who cares as a kid? You do all sorts of dangerous things.

My youth was not very enjoyable. I had a lot to