Our Lunch with KK

Last time I wrote about Kenneth Kaunda’s political career. This time I’d like to tell you about the man we met at his home in Lusaka.

KK turned ninety last year, and as he knew David Scott and the work NPAC does in Zambia, we were invited to lunch at his home. We arrived after we’d been reclaiming our luggage at the airport, so all we’d had to change into is the clothing we’d packed in our hand luggage. Fortunately I had all of my clothing in my rucksack, and so I was feeling pretty fresh, but Dad had made a schoolboy error and packed his anti-malarial medicine in his suitcase. Luckily he had a clean dress shirt, tartan tie and his Caledonian Society presidents’ medal. My Dad has great priorities.

When we arrived we could hear music coming from the reception room and entered to find a bit of a jam session in progress. KK frequently has lunches to which he will invite many interesting visitors, and we were in attendance with a German music group who came to Zambia to investigate the possibility of setting up a dedicated music college. It turns out the first president of democratic Zambia has hidden talents. He’d pulled out a guitar and the whole group was singing along to a well known hymn, shortly followed by the Zambian anthem. After the musical interlude was concluded conversation turned to our purposes for visiting Zambia. KK was delighted to learn that Dad was born there, and that they had a Caledonian connection, KK’s father having been an ordained Church of Scotland missionary, and when Dad presented KK with a glass vase he had made in the colours of the saltire it took pride of place on the table in front of him. We have since learned that KK keeps the vase in his bedroom, along with the policeman’s helmet that David Scott had given him on a previous visit.

While we ate KK told us about his wife, Betty, to whom he was married for sixty-six years and who died in 2012. She was a strong woman and a good friend and advisor to KK, who consulted her frequently on affairs of state. It’s clear he misses her desperately, and his personal assistant, Linda told us that he regularly visits her grave in the gardens of his house to sit and talk to her. Dad told KK about my Mum and how they’ve been married only thirty years, and he responded with the advice to “have patience”.

KK came to the front steps to wave us off and sang Good-bye-ee, then this ninety-year-old man who has to walk with a cane ran up to his balcony like a dynamo and waved his trademark handkerchief as we drove away.

You can tell why KK was chosen to bring his country to democracy. He is gracious and commands the attention of a room when he speaks, but he is also humble and has a sense of mischief that belies the gravity of his office. He made us welcome in his home and shared his wisdom with us, while giving his full attention to each person and making it clear that he learns from everyone he meets.

First published in Southwell Life, April 2015.