It was a big house with a large garden/compound. There was a stable block on one side and the rest of the garden surrounded the house with the drive going right round the house. I think there were some servants houses along one wall. There was a pergola on the kitchen side where Ato Gwadu, an elderly gentleman who was our dhobi boy (laundry) did the ironing He was greatly respected by everyone. Opposite the front door there was another pergola with pink geraniums growing in profusion. The was where Stephen and I used to shoot at each other with catapults made of inner tyres and using the hard seeds of eucalyptus as ammunition. It could be painful if our aim was good enough. Another side of the compound, we used to ride in and at some moment, I fell off my pony, the stirrups stuck over my shoes and I was dragged for some distance until stirrup and shoe parted company. A few years later Dad built us a mud hut in the garden where we could sleep the night and then cook our own breakfast, pinching masses of eggs from the cook. Hapte Michael, who used to get very angry with us at the number we pinched. During the night, the hyenas howled outside the wall and you could hear the footsteps either of the hyena pack or more likely the packs of dogs chasing them tearing along.
The most exciting part of our arrival at the house, was that Dad had bought two horses for us. Mine was called Freckles and Stephen’s was called Spotty. We learnt to ride pretty quickly. I think that was when Galate made an appearance in our lives as he was the syce. Freckles was a great bucker. You only had to put a hand on his backside and he would buck. I have a feeling there was another horse, maybe Honey or Dama, as we used to go every morning for a ride, across the Kebena river and then out along the plains which used to be below the British Legation and used to be a caravan route into Addis. We used to ride hell for leather with Galate accompanying us, scattering donkeys and people as we careered along. What beastly children we must have been, but it was very exciting. Freckles kept up his bucking and a couple of years later, when we used to ride to the School which was housed in the Anglo Ethiopian Club grounds along the road by the polo ground, I used to deliberately put my hand on his backside whenever we passed a policeman “Yetabat,” was the usual response.
And then of course the first visit to Mulu.
We had to wait until the end of the rains, I think before going, as the rivers were so full. I seem to remember we had a tall Sudanese horse which we rode across the Sibilo on. Except Stephen who was deemed too young/ small to ride across so he was carried by a stalwart man. . We seemed to ride for hours, mostly in rain and KT rode her grey mule, Georgina, in stoical silence. I think we arrived in the dark and went into the big front room, which became the drawing room, in later days. The roof was leaking so I think we pitched a tent inside the house and slept under its cover so were reasonably dry. I did not remember anything as I was only two when we left in 1935. The next morning was dry and sunny and various locals called to greet us. The chief thing I remember is the various articles which had been purloined from the house suddenly reappearing on the front lawn, including a very moth eaten leopard’s skin. I think the big round dining table was still there as it was too big for fitting into a tukul but it was without its legs, so Mum and Dad mounted it on a tree trunk. I don’t remember much else except that it was all very exciting and Mum and Dad so thrilled to be back. I think we were told that a contingent of Italian troop[s had been sent to Mulu but did not stay long as the Patriot Chief Ras Abebe Aregai had been active in the Bole valley and they were scared. A swiss manager, Dr Ossent had been left in charge of the farm but he was too scared to stay also. He lived in Addis and produce from the farm used to be taken to his house. We were friendly with them and I got to know their daughters Verena and Erica, pretty well
He paid rent to the Empress and as Dad was busy with government affairs, it was left like that for a few years. Then Dad was told by Ethiopian friends that Ossent was trying to get the Mulu contract in his name and the Empress being a money grubbing lady was prepared to let it go ahead for an increased rent., Finally a commission was set up and it decreed that the Mulu contract should revert to Dad, which was a great relief. I was at Wycombe by then and remember praying hard that it would all end alright. ( The Ossent family left Ethiopia for Kenya where they farmed. I met up once with Verena when I was at Egerton but over the years lost touch with her She finally ended up in America)
We never owned Mulu but rented it, first from the Empress and then from Prince Makonnen and his heirs until the Dergue took it over and we had to pay the rent to them. The rest is Modern history now.
Brother Dick had been fighting in Burma and one day Mum and Dad got a telegram to say he was on the dangerously ill list having been wounded when he was fighting with a Ghurkha regiment against the Japanese. You can imagine the anxiety and then the joy when he was next put on the seriously ill list and finally that he was being discharged from the army and would he on his way home to join his parents which he finally did and was invalided out for several months. I remember going riding with him on a horse he called Chad and as he got stronger, the faster we all rode.
In 1945 The war in Europe came to an end. I can remember going to an enormous bonfire party put on by the BMME (British Military Mission to Ethiopia) who occupied premises near the old Airport. Later the area became the Princess Tshai Hospital . There were fireworks and much rejoicing.(It was called VE day)
Two years later came the end of the victory against Japan. (VJ day it was called)
We decided that it was time to revisit England and the family left behind. We flew to Cairo, hoping to get some form of transport back to the UK. Quite the wrong moment to have chosen. Every form of transport was filled with soldiers returning from the Far East . Dad who was going to England on official business got a flight but the rest of us, after an interminable few weeks in Cairo had to give up and return to Ethiopia. Mum filled the time with visits to all the sights. The Pyramids, The City of the Dead (goodness knows what that was), The Museum, where I can remember seeing the bust of Tutankamum and many other ancient things and most interesting of all to me, was a restaurant called Groppis where you could get an amazing array of different types of ice cream. We had bumped into Wilfred Thesiger in Cairo and it was he that took us to Groppis. I think we were completely broke when we went back to Addis Ababa so we went to Harar where Mum taught at a girl’s school and KT ran the newly opened British Council. This went with a house. I have a few vivid memories of Harar. One was going to a New Year’s party with some Catholic Fathers where Mum was horrified to find us being fed on brandy. Christmas Day when two things of great moment happened – the sucking pig that we had got for Christmas ran away with Haile in hot pursuit, and Stephen and I burning the Christmas tree down, as we had lined the branches with cotton wool, to resemble snow and then tried to stick candles onto the branches with wax from the candles and the inevitable took place and the tree burst into flames. Luckily there was someone standing watching us and he grabbed the tree and flung it into the garden. I don’t remember what happened to the pig or what we had for the Christmas meal. There were very few other English people there, a teacher at the same school that Mum taught in. I think she might have been the headmistress and an English couple – he was the British consul there and I remember her as making delicious banana ice cream. My passion for ice cream remains to this day. One horrifying thing I remember was being sent to sewing lessons at a convent which I loathed as everyone else were Hararis and they thought me a bit of a spectacle as I could not sew. Our own lessons continued with Mum and KT and we were taken to explore the ancient walled city of Harar.I don’t remember how long we were in Harar but we returned to Addis Ababa and Dad was there end life continued as normal.
Various people heard that Mum was teaching us and asked if their children could join in as the numbers got too big to fit in the house, so Mum asked Henry Littler, who had recently started the British Council in Addis Ababa if she could use some of the rooms in the British Council building. He said she could but the proviso was that anyone who wanted to come, could. This is the time Freckles and I did our bucking episodes, on the way to school.. The numbers grew rapidly Mum co-opted various people to teach there and I made some long lasting friendships. Mylene Pechimalgi who eventually married a German and moved to Germany, is still in touch with me and we correspond every Christmas.
Eventually, the school grew so large that it had to move premises again to where the Sandford school flourishes today and where a lot of you went to school.