Kite Flying in Zanzibar

Dad, why on earth did you bring us to Canada? You guys had a lot more fun
growing up in Zanzibar.

What can I say?   There was so much truth in this honest comment.

During our young and foolish days in Zanzibar, I remember with much fondness and some trepidation but much anticipation that when kite season was on the horizon, we had to get prepared for this gala occasion. Buying ready-made kites was not an option and was simply out of the question. They were beyond the range of our lean pockets.

We therefore had to improvise and make them ourselves. All that it required was a creative disposition and much experimentation. The materials that were required to construct a kite that could fly were pretty basic. First of all you required strong broom sticks that were pliable...I mean the sticks that came from the coconut palm leaves and were generally put together to form a formidable broom.  You also needed some strong, but brightly coloured tissue paper which we bought from Mathuradas Sunderji’s Store on Portuguese Street.

Glue was important to put things together to withstand the unpredictable wind so we obtained our glue by squashing boiled rice...it made a great adhesive, and a lot of thread which we absconded from Mother’s sewing kit. That thread was valuable to mother for she could sew on the lost buttons on our shirts every other day which mysteriously disappeared while we, the brothers, wrestled on the bed (as a form of bonding I guess) whenever we had the opportunity. We generally emerged from these bouts with a few scratches which were treated with an application of that dreaded iodine.

But this was not all. Kite fighting became a contagious culture during Kite
Season. We learned that in order to win a kite fight one strategy was to
convert the thread that hooked up to the kite with something sharp so that when it came in contact with an opponent’s kite it would cut off the thread or string that secured the opponent’s kite. Consequently, we took it upon ourselves to break a bottle of soda, you know, the one which had a marble in it that sealed the gas from escaping from the bottle and had to be opened with a special contraption that dislodged the marble letting out some of the gas and then permitting the soda to pour out. The soda bottle shards were then ground down to a rough powder but maintaining its sharp edges, and then mixed with quick-drying strong effective glue called 'Mpaci' which was sold in the Bohora hardware stores. The Mpaci needed to be boiled down into a liquid and applied to the thread when it was cool enough not to burn off the thread.  The glass powder (our secret weapon) was then applied with great care to about ten feet of the thread which was tied to the kite and which would then slice off any kite string that came in contact with it during a kite fight.

When the kite was finally put together, a tail was attached to it in order to
embellish it and to give it some balance so that in a strong wind it would not come diving down.

Mnazi Moja was the place where all kite enthusiasts came to enjoy the battle of the kites that was about to ensue.  Of course no battle can be complete without having a whole group of enthusiast to give one an ovation, and a strong sense of confidence, whenever a kite was seen biting the dust.

There were times when an opponent would demand restitution for his lost kite, and this would lead to an exchange of all kinds of swearing in Swahili, English, Hindi and languages that were yet to be born. To the best of my memory, no fists ever went flying and the kite competition continued unabated.

As the sun began to set over the imposingly white dome of the Zanzibar museum on the other side of Mnazi Moji, there seemed to be fewer kites in the blue sky.
By six o’clock the siren sounded signifying sunset. We had to rush off home.
 It was the deadline set by most parents for their children to come home and be counted.

Another brilliant piece, brought back memories that were forgotten.
Mabel