14 a. Cigarettes...Smoking a patriotic duty?

Nearly everyone I knew smoked and most were what we called 'chain smokers'. Which meant from the moment they awoke till they went to sleep they’d have a cigarette on the go. As soon as one was finished they’d light up another, usually from the tip of the one they were about to stub out.

It was a time when the majority of index fingers and middle fingers were stained an orange-yellow colour, so too the interiors of most cars especially above the driver's head. 

Southern Rhodesia was a tobacco producing country and with the genus Nicotiana accounting for over fifty per cent of its exports any suggestion that smoking caused health problems was resoundingly pooh-poohed. So certain were 'those in the know’ that smoking was a totally harmless recreational and social activity that they went so far as to name one brand of cigarettes – and I kid you not - “Life”.

Oh, yeah, and get this. If anyone caught a cold, had flu or bronchitis they were actively encouraged to smoke mentholated cigarettes such as “Avon” and “Consulate” as the minty, menthol fumes would clear the congested airways! Sounds crazy now, but we all bought into it…well, I know I did.

You could smoke anywhere in Rhodesia, in lifts (elevators), at garages (what we called petrol stations) while filling the car with petrol... during and  between courses   at restaurants... and even at the movies where little brass cup-shaped ashtrays screwed to the backs of seats in front were provided for the smoker. 

                                                      Estoril, Beira

On the subject of cinema, while on holiday in Beira we went to a movie house only to discover, horror heaped on horror, that smoking was banned. We couldn't believe it.  It was absolutely outrageous. How on earth were we expected to sit through a whole movie without lighting up..."Typical", we muttered condescendingly. "Trust those backward-thinking Portuguese to come up with something so bloody draconian".

It is true to say in the late 1950’s, early 60’s with tobacco being such a key part of Rhodesia's economy, it was regarded among certain citizens - those working in the tobacco industry -  that smoking was something of a patriotic duty and was to be actively encouraged…and from an early age too. I remember going on a school trip to a cigarette factory where we were taken through the whole manufacturing process of making a cigarette - from the bales of tobacco entering the factory, being graded, treated, shredded and finally rolled and packaged…what harm is there in that, I hear you ask. Nothing...nothing at all. But here’s the thing, the 'sting in the tail' so to speak. Before leaving the factory each and every one of us ‘school kids remember’ were given a carrier-bag filled with loose cigarettes (150 – 200) …and told it was a present for our parents. 

At the time I thought they were pretty gullible to imagine we would even consider handing over a cache of a hundred and fifty plus skayfes to our folks. But now, older and more cynical I can’t help thinking the ‘present for our parents’ was merely a smoke screen – pun intended. And they were actively targeting us kids, recruiting a whole new generation who'd be dependent on nicotine...Maybe I'm being unfair...maybe not. At the time it must be said I was more than happy to get my grubby hands on the bag of fags...and most likely sampled a couple in the bus on the way back to school . 

Tobacco auctions were held in Salisbury every year in a huge warehouse where literally thousands of bales of tobacco were set out in never-ending rows. 

The auctioneer, surrounded by the buyers, would work his way down row after row, stopping fleetingly at each bale to sell it. The speed at which the auctioneer conducted the sale, in a weird, sing-song, almost country and western voice, was both mind boggling and unintelligible…to the uninitiated it must have sounded like a square dance ‘caller’ on speed.

The great thing about the auction house was that it provided ‘all day breakfasts’ absolutely free. And what a sumptuous free-bee breakfast feast it was too. Eggs of every denomination; scrambled, fried, poached, boiled, omelets, steaks, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans, fried potato, fried bread, toast... a whole array of cereals, a selection of fruit juices, orange, guava, grapefruit to name but three, plus there was a constant supply of coffee and tea on tap.…it really was a breakfast menu worthy of its name. 

Consequentially this mouth-watering, lip-smacking gastronomic attraction attracted a whole bunch of people who weren't there to buy or sell tobacco – in fact as soon as the auction house doors opened they made a bee-line for the canteen and remained there for the duration. I do believe most if not all the Chequers took advantage of the free-bee breakfast...though how we came to hear about it escapes me.

Come to think of it our singer Verlaine Crisp’s father worked at the auction warehouse…and that’s how we came to learn about the free-bee breakfasts. 

A belated thank you to Verlaine's dad.