From Moz to Malawi & Gunshots in Zomba

From what I had gathered online I would need to catch a chapa at around 5am to the border. I had a vague idea of where to catch it, but I didn’t really know where exactly. I had stayed the previous night in an overpriced hotel in Cuamba (for what it was really worth anyways) after catching a train from Nampula the day before. Despite the bugs on the floor and the paranoia of them crawling onto me as I slept (I made sure my mosquito net was completely tucked in) I slept extremely well. My alarm went off at 4:30am, and at 5am I was happily leaving the hotel.

Because I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going, I paid 50meticais ($1aud) to take a motorcycle taxi to the chapa place. It was also still dark, and I didn’t much like the idea of walking around a town I didn’t know with all my possessions, particularly with no streetlights. My motorcycle driver and I were struggling a bit because of my big backpack as we were a bit off balance. We stopped after a few minutes to adjust my bag, but as we were doing so my calf brushed against something very hot on the bike! It was only for a split second, but I had managed to scorch my skin. It was quite painful (obviously), but there wasn't much I could do for the moment. 

We arrived and found a bus quickly and I got in. An older man had beaten me to the front seat so I chose my seat in the back wisely - window seat and in the second row (they pile two rows of people in between the first row and the seats behind the driver so you’re cramped and touching legs with the person opposite you). I had a few bandaids in my purse so I put them on my calf to cover the burn, but I couldn't do much else except sit through the pain. The burn was only about 3cm long, but the top layer of skin was now gone, leaving the flesh behind … kinda gross and really painful.

We left Cuamba at about 7am and reached the town of Mandimba by about 11am. My last chapa in Mozambique! While not as bad as the last one I had had where we were constantly stopping and starting to let more people on, it still wasn’t great because the quality of the road was very poor. It was a dirt road the whole way (150km), and because of the rains, quite muddy in spots, with many, many bumps. I was constantly jumping up and down, not helped by our speedy driver. At one stage we started sliding through mud because the driver had been going to fast, but the other passengers were quick to yell at him and he seemed to slow down. 

At Mandimba there were motorcycle taxis ready to take us to the Malawi border. One guy was very cheeky and grabbed my backpack from the back of the chapa and put it on his bike before I could even agree. He took me to the Mozambique border which was several kilometres away where I got stamped out, then several more kilometres to the Malawi side. I’m pretty sure he overcharged me a lot for the trip, as I was expecting it to be a lot longer to get Chiponde, but I was finally at the Malawi side.

Previously Australians could get a free 90 day visa for Malawi, but now we have to pay at $75usd visa to get in. It’s a bit annoying because I can only stay 8 days as I have to get back to Johannesburg next week but I still have to pay the full price, but this is possibly my only chance to visit. I enquired about how to get to Zomba from Chiponde, but it was 12pm, too late for any buses to be going to Zomba from Chiponde. It seemed like my only options were to either get a taxi to Mangotchi where I would catch a bus, or stay the night and catch a bus in the morning.

I had plans to be at Domasi, where I volunteered in 2014, by tomorrow, and I wanted a day in Zomba first so I could get a SIM card and buy some things I know I won’t be able to get in Domasi, so I really wanted to get to Zomba today. I also had a lack of cash on me, so I needed to get to an ATM asap. I negotiated with a taxi driver, and for about $25aud he would take me to Mangotchi (a 50km distance) where he would take me to an ATM to get some Kwacha, and then to catch a bus south.

We filled up with petrol (ie. two guys brining over some oil in plastic bottles to fill up the car), and were on our way on the paved roads of Malawi. It was nice to finally be on some bitumen again. While the Malawi roads may have some potholes, they are not in as poor as condition as the ones in Madagascar, and unlike Mozambique, basically all the roads are paved and have two lanes. We passed by Lake Chilwa and Lake Malawi, and it finally dawned on me that two and a half years later I was finally back in Malawi.

From Mangotchi I caught a bus headed to Blantyre. I was one of the last few people on and had to squeeze in the front. It was a pretty quick trip though, and only took three hours to get to Zomba. I had forgotten how small of a country Malawi is. Any journey in Mozambique or Madagascar required a whole day because of the vast distance covered or because of the poor quality of the roads. Here in Malawi everything is so close together and the roads are all paved so its not really any issue.

We arrived in Zomba and all the memories from 2014 were coming back. Zomba was my respite from living in a village, where I would go each week to buy groceries and use the internet. It is basically the same, though there are few new things, notably a Steers restaurant which is a South African fast food chain and a new Airtel (a mobile phone provider) shop which looks quite fancy.

I booked in a dorm at Pakacheres Backpackers for the night and set about searching for a SIM card. It was nice walking around, and everyone who greeted me was genuinely nice, which is something I always loved about Malawi. I did find a SIM card, however I needed it to be cut down to a microsim for my iPhone. I ended up at a restauarant called Tasty Bite (I think I only ate there once in 2014) where I had a plate a spaghetti. They were supposed to have free WiFi but they didn’t. Instead the guy there went out of the way to find a pin to take my SIM card out of my phone, and to get scissors to cut my new SIM card to size! For about $10aud I have 2gb of internet use.

The following days plan was to head out to Domasi, I had been in contact with one of the teachers  at my school through Whatsapp and had arranged accommodation back at the guest house I lived in for 7 months. It should be interesting to return, and I am looking forward to seeing everyone. I was very close to not coming to Malawi because by the time I got to the north of Mozambique I was sick and tired of travelling and moving about. It will be nice to see some familiar faces and to see how much has changed (so far, not all that much, except that the Kwacha has reduced a lot in value and there is now a 2000kwacha note … of which is still only worth $3.50aud/35rand).

That evening I had a dorm room to myself and went to bed at around 10pm, happy to be able to sleep in the following day and not wake up ridiculously early for public transport! I was extremely tired and fell into a deep sleep straight away, which is why when I heard shouting outside I didn't immediately wake up. I had been at loud backpackers before, and outside noise had ceased to bother me. It was only a little bit later when I heard gun shots that I immediately woke up. 

I was very unsure of what had happened. Gun shots? In Malawi? The warm heart of Africa? The safest country I've been too? I was in a dorm room alone, tucked into my mosquito net and unsure of what to do. I remained in bed, unable to fall back to sleep, and was imagining what I would do if someone were to burst into the dorm. Eventually though I heard (non threatening) voices outside in the hallway, and after a little while, when I was sure it was the other guests (a group of school children from somewhere in Europe), I ventured out. Apparently thieves had tried to get into the backpackers. They had attacked and injured one guard, while the other guard had run for the police. The gun shots were from the police officers warning off the thieves (of which I was told there were about five in total).

It was the most scared I had been in a very long time, and the only time I've ever been truly concerned about my life. It just seems ironic that it happened in Zomba, Malawi of all places - a town  and country I have spent considerable time in and feel very comfortable in.