Precious Memories and Life Lessons

Precious Memories, which were also Life Lessons

Dad at his Office - Exporters Syndicate, Arusha [I am about 10yo at this time]

This post is mainly about my father, Zenon Michael Eustace, or, in Greek, Efstathiou. Allow me to start with a little of the background, as I think it adds more depth to his story.

He was born in Cyprus, in a village just above Paphos. His father was the only educated man in the village and his was the responsibility of the finances of the village, in Greek that meant he was described as the oikonomos. In accordance with tradition, he became known as Stathis Oiconomou (Stathis is the short for Efstathios). As was traditional, my father took the first name of his father as his surname – I did not follow in his footsteps and followed the traditions of my times and had his surname bestowed upon me.

As a schoolboy, he would walk from home to school (about on hour) barefoot, holding his shoes in his hands, so that they last longer. As a teenager, he realised he must concentrate on learning English so that he can enter the Civil Service (I can’t believe my father wanted to become a cockroach, but that is the case). From high school he applied to become a cop, but luckily ended up in Alexandria, where he worked as a bookkeeper. From there he worked his way down to Nairobi.

When he decided to marry my mother, he had to borrow a jacket. Within a few years he had his own small business and when he learnt of an African teacher not being allowed to work because he was demanding freedom for his people and country, my father paid him a teacher’s salary for many years. That man became the president of the country and the first farms he nationalised without paying a cent compensation were the three farms of my father. His excuse was that although they were friends, he was a politician.

Within a few years he was head of the Greek community in Arusha (Tanganyika), where he opened a seed business, buying from Greek farmers and selling the agricultural produce to the USA and England. He then bought a coffee and bean farm – plus a pawpaw farm. At that time sisal, a cactus like plant, was the most profitable kind of farming. By the time I was sixteen he owned three sisal farms, with a total acreage of about 15,000 HA. They included three railroad systems plus about 1,300 workers on each farm.

As mentioned, everything was nationalised and he departed from Africa with $15,000. He used that money to rent a huge mansion in the most exclusive suburb outside Athens, Greece, met some bankers and after a few meals at his home, he convinced them to fund him in the purchase of a ship. Within two years he had three ships and within ten years he owned ships from 220,000 MT and downwards to 10,000 in size. Value in the seventies was about a hundred million dollars. Unfortunately, as he aged he suffered from Alzheimer’s (not a well known condition at that time) and making some mistakes he lost everything (thanks to an American bank and their Greek manager who conspired to auction them and sell them to a friend and they then owned three of the ships on their own, with a very low debt).

Now, let’s go back to the days of the sisal estates – I was about eighteen years old and working in his office as a bookkeeper (I hated it). We also had a local man called Sylvester who had worked for my father for over twenty one years (at that time). My father totally trusted Sylvester.

Every week we would draw cash from the bank and the three managers would come to town to take their share for paying salaries, wages, fuel and so on. So, we are talking an amount which was at that time considerable.

I arrived at the office at ten in the morning, expecting my father to crap me out for coming so late, so when he called me into his office, I was a bit nervous. He asked me whether I had arrived earlier and gone out again. I told him I had just arrived from home.

He then explained he had left the office for an hour to have coffee and when he returned to his office, the money for the farms was gone. He told me that he had asked Sylvester to remain in front of his door until he returns, so he could not work out what could have happened.

He called Sylvester and asked him whether the memsab had come to the office while he was out and Sylvester said she had not come to the office. He asked him whether he had maybe left his door unguarded for a minute or two to go to the toilet, but he strenuously denied it. There was no other way for anyone to enter his office so my father thanked him and once we were alone he told me he does not know what to do, as he cannot accuse Sylvester, he trusts him.

Sylvester knocked on the door, entered and placed the money on his desk, now wrapped in a newspaper (keep in mind that the amount was roughly equivalent to thirty or more years of salaries, and as he was growing elderly, he must have been worried about how he would survive).

“Sylvester!?” my father exclaimed, but strangely, he did not sound angry.

“Bwana Zenon, can I explain please?”

“Yes.”

“I finished the accounts to Trial Balance and entered the office to place it on the desk for you. I then saw the money and it made me so happy! I said to myself, ‘look Sylvester how much bwana Zenon trusts you!’ I felt so good and was going to return to sit in front of your door so that nobody can steal your money. Then a terrible thing happened. Satan came to me and he said, ‘Sylvester, take the money.’ I said to him, ‘get behind me Satan!’ but he insisted, ‘take the money Sylvester, take it; take it, bwana Zenon will not even notice the money is gone, it is very little for him and he will not care.’ I got angry and refused, telling him that you had trusted me and I cannot steal from you.

He would not stop and kept demanding I take the money. Bwana Zenon, I could not help myself, who am I, poor Sylvester, to say no to Satan, so I took the money. I am sorry.”

I could not believe what I had heard, though I found it humorous. My father asked him to go out and close the door behind him. Once we were alone, my father asked me, “Alex, what would you do in my place?” I felt he was testing me, wanting to see if I am tough enough to do what must be done, so I told him I would fire Sylvester.

“Alex, you would be wrong to do so. Maybe someday you will have a business of your own, so let this be a lesson to you. If you do not look after your stock or your money and you make it easy for others to steal from you, then they are not to blame, you are, for you placed them under unfair pressure and temptation.”

He called for Sylvester and told him, “Sylvester, you have worked for me for over twenty one years and you have always been honest and loyal. What happened today, it never happened, forget about it.” Sylvester left the room, not looking happy. He looked like he wanted to weep.

As for me, how can I describe how I felt? It felt as if there was not enough space in my chest for my heart and that it was about to explode with love for my father. I never forgot the lesson he taught me.

((Next post will have another story of a lesson he taught me – plus a bit more background))