The Eight Foot Ladder

When we first moved into our beautiful house the Lord so wonderfully provided for our work here in Malawi, it didn’t take very long for me to realize we needed an eight foot ladder, because  some of the ceilings at this end of the house are ten and twelve feet high. Even being able to simply change a light bulb was not otherwise going to be an option. There are many “hardware stores” in Zomba; I would just put it on my long list of items to acquire, and get one in town as soon as possible.

Not so fast! As I began my search for the ladder, along with many other items we needed, I learned there is something uniquely different about all the shops here, not only the hardware stores. Everyone has a niche in what they offer for sale, and they don’t always follow a specific pattern. There’s one shop that will sell mattresses, pillows, metal roofing sheets, and nails. Another will stock plastic buckets and fertilizer. Still a third will have  screws and other fasteners, along with house paint.

A few weeks back, Phyllis and I were making our very first run to Blantyre, some 65 kilometers away, and although we had a good spare tire, I knew we didn’t have a jack. There are no service stations along the way, and I knew I needed to get a jack before leaving Zomba. We drove into Zomba and saw what appeared to be a large well stocked auto parts store, but upon inquiring, the man behind the counter said he was sorry, but he didn’t have one. We left, and walked across the street to a little music shop we had never noticed before, where Phyllis was able to purchase a children’s Gospel CD she had been hoping to find.

As we were walking back to our car, the auto parts man called out to inform us that the store next to his has a jack for sale, so relieved, we went over to his shop, and after he showed us a brand new scissor jack, still in the box, told us the price in kwacha. After some quick calculating I realized he wanted to sell me a fifteen dollar jack for the equivalent of seventy six dollars! Although we’re surely not, we were being pegged as rich Americans, and he was trying to make a week’s income on one sale. As we said no thanks, and were high tailing it out the door, he told us he could come up with a little better deal. “Double no thanks,” I thought.

Alas! I knew the answer. Although I would probably be required to pay a little premium for his service, we walked into the bustling Zomba Market, and up to the little hardware booth owned and run by energetic young Yusuf. Whenever he sees us coming he lets out a big perfect toothed smile and says “Hello George,” which he always spells Jogie on his sales receipt. I said, “Yusuf, one day I will teach you how to properly spell my name,” then I told him what we were looking for. He was off like a bolt of lightning, and back with a shiny new jack within a couple minutes. We paid twenty seven dollars and he even carried it to the car for us. I asked him if he just wanted to look at my beautiful Mercedes. He laughed, and off we went.

A few weeks later, as we were rounding up everything Phyllis and I needed to bring to immigration in order to get our visa extensions, we spied a tiny shop bordering on the bus terminal, which offers passport photos within “two minutes.” We parked the car, and walked over, but as we passed through the front door, there stood a woman making French fries, and some sort of deep fried pastries. Once we inquired, we were ushered into a little back room, and one at a time, using a small digital camera, the proprietor proceeded to take both of our pictures. He had them cropped, printed and cut down to size on his truly world class paper cutter quicker than you could turn around.

Oh, back to the eight foot ladder! After several inquiries over a week’s time, I was finally convinced that indeed, Zomba, the fourth largest city in all of Malawi just did not have one for sale in any of its myriad shops.  Fortunately, Blantyre, which is impressively dubbed the “commercial capital of Malawi” because of its vast industrial and commercial base is within relative striking distance, I would get one there at my first opportunity. One friendly hardware store owner, Mosh, whom we had dealt on a number of issues, would gladly have one delivered to his shop with one of his regular orders from Blantyre, and I would just pay a small premium for the convenience. Being that our little Mazda wouldn’t be able to haul it that seemed a plus for both of us.

After another ten days and three or four reminders and patiently waiting for him to come through, I decided it was time to inquire of another shop owner or two. Furcan and Aziz, the mattress and roofing materials store owners, (the only connection I have come up with regarding the two product lines, is that you lie on one, and under the other), said they couldn’t get us one. Our landlord’s agent was heading down to Blantyre in his pickup truck, and would be most happy to purchase one while there, and carry it back for us. No problem. Well, almost no problem.  The Game Store, a division of WalMart; yes you read right, WalMart, didn’t have them either. Oh boy!

I was beginning to learn that some things simply aren’t available in Malawi, and people routinely find their way around this dilemma. But exactly how was I to do that? Then came our big breakthrough! The fabric shop owner, Imran, a man of Indian descent, born in Mozambique, and raised in Malawi, knows everything about everything regarding commerce here. His brother owns a shop in Blantyre, and he’ll find us a ladder, and then have it delivered to Imran’s, shop and he’ll even drive it up the hill to our house once it arrives in Zomba. For free! You can’t beat an offer like that.

A couple days later, as I entered Imran’s shop anticipating the good news, he looked me in the eye, and informed me that there isn’t a single eight foot ladder in all of Blantyre. I needed one, and knew in my heart of hearts, that somehow, and relatively soon, my ladder would be at the house doing that which I needed it to. But a paraphrase of a Yogi Berraism came to mind, “It ain’t an eight foot ladder until it’s an eight foot ladder”. Then he said the magic words: he could have his welder make me one using the same design pattern of his six footer, and he would still deliver it up the hill to us. It would have to be made of steel, which would be about ten times heavier than the aluminum one I had hoped for, but did it really matter at this point? When in Malawi, do…………….

Several days later, and through the gate came Imran with our freshly painted battle ship gray steel ladder. One slight modification needed for OSHA approval, not to mention our health and safety, and we’re in business. It takes both of us to maneuver it from room to room; but, some otherwise impossible jobs are getting done, and other items on our to do list will be getting knocked off one at a time. That’s progress!

The story wouldn’t be complete without mentioning that on our very next trip to Blantyre, there in one of the aisles at the Game Store stood an eight foot aluminum step ladder with the words stenciled on both sides, “Property of Game Store”. I can only assume they had it shipped in from South Africa.