The memories came flooding back in Chitipa and I left a happy man early the next morning, in the front seat of the very overcrowded ‘Mchinji Boy’s’ mini bus heading for Nthalire at the foot of the Nyika Plateau. In the back it was crammed full of secondary school pupils heading back to Wenya SS after the holidays. It was a beautiful journey through Chisenga, Wenya and Kaprinkhonde to Nthalire. The hills were as scenic as I remember as the rough dirt road winds up and up. In Wenya the bus emptied. The school hall where I once did some netball coaching in 2000 just as it was being built, now stands proudly to welcome people to the school. The current head tells me that the government is struggling to keep schools refurbished, resourced and well-staffed these days in this economic crisis. Times are as hard as ever for a Malawian teacher. I asked about an old friend Mr Chirwa once of Nthalire. I track him down to Bembe CDSS, a new school on the other side of Nyika. I hope I find him there tomorrow.

Nthalire looked just the same, apart from now boasting an enclosed football ground, a community hall and a new Catholic sponsored primary school. It also had a big World Food Programme tent full of 3500 x 50 kg bags of maize that are delivered monthly and distributed to nearby villages. There are other centres in Chitipa at Misuku and Kamwenge. This contradicted the information that Chitipa district was growing even enough to help feed Karonga these days. I eat well and settle into Harry’s Guest House managed by ‘Loveless’ a young lady in a Rasta bobble hat. At Nthalire CDSS I find two of my old ‘zone winner’ certificates still in good shape hanging on the Head’s office wall. No certificates have been awarded for school sports since my time he tells me.

I eat well at Nthalire’s best and most popular restaurant which I remember from last time. The lady owner is a tough customer. The local ‘mad man’ tries to get in for something and gets a bucket of dirty water thrown over him. A ‘Rambo’ film is playing with the volume turned up to full. Others watch ‘Nigerian’ films and series dubbed into Chitumbuka. Now all is silent with just noises from inside the roof and occasional voices. I had the feeling not a lot happens in Nthalire.

Nyika looms large over Nthalire as the sun rises on a new day. Only pickup trucks and strong vehicles travel this route because of the poor state of the road. I find out that most people from Nthalire heading for Rumphi these days travel via Chitipa and Karonga because of the new roads. I hang on tight as my arm muscles and bottom get a real battering as the vehicle lurches, serves and stops abruptly every few metres. The views are amazing out over the valley below and the hills above. I decided it was one of the most beautiful roads I had travelled. The hills are green and the sky is deep blue as we traverse the Nyika plateau very close to the Zambian border. On the way down towards Rumphi I stop and meet Mr. Chirwa at his remote school and he gives me a coke from his shop. As I remember Rumphi was surrounded by hills and full of big brightly coloured trees. It really looked different these days. The community ground was now a market and the once quiet main street was now full of new banks, restaurants and buildings. Some things are still the same. Government offices, schools, post offices and courts have seen little change in the past 15 years. I want to stay tonight and find the aptly named Mzungu Resthouse but no foreigners have stayed here at least not in the past two years of the resident’s book. In a bar with no name I meet the owner Kumbukani and his rooster.

He is in the army in Kamuzu Barracks. He knows John Kayange, our cross country superstar back in 2000 who is now a lieutenant in the army. I send a message. In is only just after lunch but the bar is already busy with drinkers and prostitutes. I have three ‘Carlsberg Greens’ and one called ‘Kuche Kuche’ which translates as 24 hours. It was probably the worse beer I have ever tasted but the barman was happy to drink it. The Rumphi mosquitoes have me prisoner inside my net unable to get to me but going crazy trying. I am reading ‘The Shadow of the Sun – My African Life’ by the Polish journalist and writer Ryszad Kapuscinski. Some of his stories are from Ghana, Uganda and Ethiopia and it made me think of ‘My African Life’ over my ten year adventure on this continent. I am awoken by voices, footsteps and sweeping, the same as many mornings over the ten year period. I enjoy a slow drive through Enukweni and Ekwendeni. I am getting excited about seeing Mzuzu. I drop near the market and it is only a short walk to the Education Offices.

It all looked very familiar with even Mr Ngwira still the messenger on the front desk. Upstairs I met PCB Mkandawire and get the recent history of this place and people. Mr. Tasokwa Msiska, my boss back in 2000 died just a month ago. He had entered politics in 2004 as an AFFORD MP for Rumphi North. His second term was with the People’s Party of Joyce Banda. In the next few days I was to hear many stories about this man and many of them not good. Fabiano Sibale, my VSO counterpart had died back in 2002. He had been accused of raping a school girl and had somehow fled to Australia. He had got sick, returned and soon died. Joseph Munthali, who had taken over my job in early 2001, continued for only one year before he also died. PCB himself had been acting DEM for some years but was now being posted to Karonga in a few weeks. Somebody who was still in their office after 15 years was the unlikely sports woman Georgina Msowoya, the Regional Sports Development Officer. She proudly showed me her recent table tennis medal. I got into my old office which sadly hadn’t been a divisional sports office since 2003.

I go for a walk and as if just another day back in 1999 Henzie Banda is standing outside Maxi Tyres. We make some plans and he says he needs a day to contact as many Apatseni boys as possible for a reunion. I head for the Tukumphire Guest House in Chibavi and to my surprise the reception is the old Casanova bar where Apatseni used to drink. It is a perfect place to stay. That great goal I scored in Chibavi is on my mind so I go and spend a quiet few moments on the field. The Mzuzu Stadium strangely draws me closer and I relive some footballing moments. Mr Musukwa, the very short, fat and troublesome stadium manager from my time has only just retired and we don’t meet.

I walk up to MaryMount Girls School and chat to Mrs. Nyrienda the ex Katoto Head. She tells me Mr. Chihana teaches here now. He is the ex Chitipa Head and father of Prince Chihana. We walked together as it gets dark through Chipatula and onto Chibavi and have 5 ‘Greens’ together. He has very fond memories of those days of sports. I remember he liked a beer and still does. It has been a great day.

I get up early and walk the back route to Mzuzu Govt SS that I walked so many times before. It really looked the same but my old house didn’t as the years and the government have not treated it well. bit further up the hill in Musongwe I meet my old friend Downs Nyasulu, sitting outside his bar called ‘West Italy 7 to 7 Bar’. It is just a name he says. It is the same bar that we set up in 2000 when I bought his first crate of ‘Chibuku’. His bar has expanded and now has a few old car seats to relax in, a TV and a very loud South African made jukebox. It just lacks a fridge. I decide that will be a good gift to leave. Downs is in the same house but now has three more girls to add to Bless, Obrien and Together. His wife Victoria was there and all were very happy to see me again. Downs has made his living over the past 15 years getting most of the community of Musongwe drunk. We go to town together to look for a decent second hand fridge. He promises me in a few days he will have one and we agree to meet. In Mzuzu that afternoon my head is turned by the shout of ‘Andy’. I recognised him immediately; it was ‘John’ my always smartly dressed and slightly effeminate old barber. I also tracked down Mr. Munyimbili ex of Chisenga CDSS and that strange day in Ikombe back in 2000 involving the bicycle and the ‘juju’. He now works at the Synod of Livingstonia Mission doing training.

Tonight Apatseni Socials will reunite with Andy after 15 years. Some won’t make it. Dobs, Wakisa, Fabiano, Dumisani and Phil Touch are ‘late’ as they say unfortunately victims of too much beer and women back then. HIV/AIDS has had a crippling effect on Malawi, with many of the productive workforce gone and many orphans left behind. At tonight’s reunion was Andy, Henzie, Henry, Burundi and Alam. We have all aged well in those 15 years. The drinks were on me. We talked, reminisced and drank some beer. Those guys look back as fondly as me on that era. We have a shared memory and you could tell. We even got Sheppard Tembo on the phone. Unfortunately my old friend Jomo Ngonga was in Zomba and we couldn’t contact him.

It is raining very hard in Mzuzu this morning as I make my way to the bus station. These days shared taxi’s drive down to Nkhata Bay and the lake. In Nhkata Bay I am greeted by many people in rubber gloves and masks. One guy greets me saying ‘good morning we are having a cholera outbreak at the moment and need to keep the town clean’. I check into the old ‘Yellow Submarine’ Resthouse, now refurbished and not yellow anymore. The Ilala Ferry is due tonight and it will leave going north through Usisya in the morning. There a quiet a lot more places to stay in the bay now, a few ‘eco’ ones and a few ‘ugly’ ones but the Njaya is still there at the end of Chikale Beach still managed by Dixon and Gilbert. I eat at the Khonde Restaurant, owned by Irene Kaunda with the dodgy eye. I am enjoying the fresh usipa, Kampango fish and red hot nsima. I sit a watch a good 3-3 draw at the community ground, well officiated by a guy who was trained by Mr. Ngosi my old friend and the man who kept me sane in terms of being a good referee at the times we needed him the most.

I am in bed trying to sleep as the Ilala arrives with its customary very loud horn. It will leave at 7.30 am. The Ilala is looking in great shape. It was built in Mangochi in 1949 with parts shipped from Glasgow and the Yarrow shipyard. It was a great three hours steaming up the lake to Usisya. Light rain was falling and the mist lay on top of the hills. The Ilala Ferry is one of the iconic images of my time in Malawi back then. I would use it to get to the more remote places on the lake shore that in those days weren’t connected by road with Mzuzu. Back in 1999 I had walked from Chikwina to Usisya as this was the only option apart from the ferry. Today a dirt road goes to Mzuzu but is bad in the wet season. Usisya still has a forgotten feel about it. In 1999 there was only one place to stay in the village, now there are two. I am in the same room as before I am sure. Next door along the beach is a very noisy Chibuku Bar and then a restaurant where I find some nsima and fish. I walk out of the village to Ntembo FP School, the scene of the FA sponsored course. The football field has been a bit eaten away by some erosion and now the goalposts are tilting at a strange angle. The netball posts are still far too tall with a hoop only big enough for a tennis ball to go through. I thought how so few things have changed in 15 years in some places and for some people in the world and how others have seen so much change. Malawi really has stood still in many respects. That night as I sat on the beach I was approached by all sections of society all desperate for money to eat, firstly a young boy, then an old man and finally a girl selling herself. It made me feel sad. It was a beautiful morning as women washed clothes and pots and fisherman washed themselves after a night out on the lake. The Ilala arrived and we were soon entering Nkhata Bay.

There is one more person I want to see, Mr Henry Singogo ex Chinhunka CDSS in the old MASSA days. PCB tells me he is in Mzuzu and agrees to drive me to Lukulazi CDSS where he is deputy head of this new school. I spend a few hours at the school and we agree to meet later in Chibavi. We had a lot to reminisce about and we did until late. I told him that I had sat in on a MASSA sports meeting today. He was there at the very start back in 1999 and agreed our legacy is strong today and we should be rightly proud of all our efforts. How could we ever forget the National Schools Cross Country Finals in Lilongwe back in 2000?

I had enjoyed my return to Mzuzu. I had met many of the people I had hoped to meet. Mzuzu has grown a lot in 15 years. Mzuzu Mall stands proudly near Katoto SS and even has a ‘Shopright’. I walked around and found a modern digital photo shop where I was able to quickly make some copies for Downs and even find a frame. I remembered back to 1999 and the only one shop where you could develop prints from film in those days. There are over 100 Indian families in Mzuzu trading in hardware and ‘Kaunjika’ (second hand clothes). The Chinese are also here no surprise but in smaller numbers. The Malawians just don’t have the money to set up businesses. The population has also grown considerably with many young people arriving to search of work. In Kapuscinski’s book he describes them as the ‘Bayene’, a group of young people living on the edge of society and life. In Mzuzu these people look very busy making ends meet. There are hundreds of bicycle taxi’s decorated in bright colours moving people around the town on comfortable looking padded seats. It must have spurned a whole industry including bicycle mechanics, seat makers, drivers, food vendors supplying the rice and milk snack to nourish the riders and more for sure. He describes them as desperate and ready to be exploited but here in ‘peaceful’ Mzuzu they are showing their creativity and hard work to survive. I thought how Malawi had managed to avoid civil war since independence with such dire economic conditions. One teacher told me Malawians were ‘God fearing cowards’. That answered my question.

I had been looking for a Malawi replica football shirt but with no success. My luck changed this morning as I waited for my Chitimba bound bus to leave Mzuzu, the guy driving around town trying to pick passengers was wearing one. A deal was struck and he took my Uganda shirt in exchange. We were soon overlooking the lakeshore with Livingstonia high above on the escarpment. The most battered small pickup was just about to leave and asking a high price for the very rough 15 kilometres up. The people in the back had no choice and the driver set off with scant regard for his vehicle.

It is a different world up here. The air is cool and the views across the lake to Tanzania amazing. The old secondary school became the University of Livingstonia back in 2003. No sign of Mr Manda and his red tracksuit. I met the guy who manages the kitchen here. He is a graduate from Zomba University and obviously a clever man. He says these days there are no real jobs for graduates as good government jobs are given to close family members of those in power and private investment is almost non-existent. The ‘Stone House’ built in 1903 by Robert Laws when he set up his CCAP mission here was my place for the night. I brought back a lot of memories of my 1999 visit here with Jenny Lashley. I awake to a clear sky but soon the mist has rolled in. I visit the Livingstonia CCAP primary school and meet the head teacher. They have a TDC (Teacher Development Centre) at the school for the zone and they have a quite well resourced library and some sports equipment. I ask if I can come back and show the sports teacher a few things later in the day. Then the rain hits hard so we talk for an hour or so. Education is suffering badly in Malawi at the moment. The effects of the ‘Cashgate’ scandal are hitting hard as the government doesn’t have enough money to deliver the service anywhere near an adequate standard. In the past four years 20,000 primary school teachers have been trained but can’t find jobs as the government doesn’t have the salaries even though schools are desperately short of staff. A teacher here earns about 50,000 kwacha a month but has to spend 7,000 a month travelling to a bank in Karonga or Rumphi to get the salary. These days there is little training after you qualify. This school is fortunate because of the connection with the CCAP church so gets support in different ways. Class sizes are between 70-100 children at this school. A class of 50 Standard 6 pupils come out to play as the sun comes out. I had already collected some old bicycle tyres and sticks so we did some fitness drills, ball skills and some fun games.

After an hour of fun the sky opened again and we ran for cover. Many of these children are orphans having lost parents to AIDS. One organisation here supports over 7000 orphans out of a total population of 90,000 people. I leave the school happy and in search of food. Janet the Stone House ‘cook’ is at a funeral today. Peggie the Stone House ‘cleaner’ is around but is not allowed to cook as per her job description. There is a solution though. If I can find the Reverend Kumwenda, the head of the mission here, I may ask him if Peggie can cook for me. I find him and soon Peggie is off to the market to but some usipa and eggs. I eat well and thank the women for their flexibility.

I get up with the sunrise and set off down the mountain to Chitimba. The sun lights up the lake as the clouds of lake flies rise from the water. The mountains in Tanzania are clearly visible. Today is a national holiday John Chilembe Day. He was the Malawian hero who started the revolt against the British in 1904. Out of respect I find a Bottle Store and settle in. It is a very hot and sweaty day in Karonga and the beer helps to cool me down.

My time in Malawi is drawing to an end. I take a final walk along the lake shore and through Old Karonga. People were looking at me this morning with empty blank faces it seemed as they struggled to farm their dry and sandy soil, wait to get water or sit on the beach after a nights fishing. I felt a bit awkward and that I shouldn’t really be there so I walked to the bus station and left Karonga. I had really enjoyed my return here and felt it had been a very positive experience but I did feel sad for how I had found Malawi in 2016. I grabbed some water and a few yellow buns and headed for the border. In a few days I would be back in Kampala.