A long time ago before the Second World War, Patrick’s grandfather Paul bred horses in Berlin, His stables were famous and they trained Gimpel who won the Germans a medal in the Olympics.  Paul married Baroness Munchausen and they lived a privileged life in Berlin where Paul owned a bank in partnership with a Jew called Lewinsky.  Their bank was called the Retzlaff Lewinsky Bank.
Their lives changed with the rise of fascism and soon Paul and his family were black listed by the Nazis for their sympathetic attitude towards Jews.  They packed everything up and sailed to Tanzania where they bought a coffee farm called “Voice of the Lion” The family knew nothing about agriculture and had no knowledge of farming coffee.  There are some enchanting family photographs of the family in mud huts with their priceless heirlooms around them and one can only imagine how difficult it must have been and how hard to adapt to lives that had changed so radically. My husband’s grandmother soon succumbed to veldt sores and died of septicemia.

Then the war came…

When the war broke out the Retzlaff’s were interned except for Godfrey Patrick’s father he was naturalized and fought for the Brits against his own cousins in Northern Italy. After the Second World War Godfrey returned to Tanzania.  He worked on the ground nut scheme which employed ex service men and women.  There he met Vera an English girl who has been a WREN in the navy and they married.  After their marriage they dairy farmed at the base of Mount Mehru and my husband and his brothers were all born in Tanzania.
When Tanzania gained independence Julius Nyere put policies into place that were detrimental to the country.  Vera was worried about the boys’ education and their own security as the land was nationalized so they made a decision to leave Tanzania and start a new life in Rhodesia which is now called Zimbabwe.
I had a very similar background and was born in Ghana; my father was an architect who worked for the colonial services after the end of the war.  My mother was a nursing sister.  We too left Ghana after independence as my father’s position was no longer secure and we settled in South Africa.

Patrick and I met..

Patrick and I met when he was at University and we married in 1978.  It was the height of the bush war as Rhodesia battled with terrorism mainly affecting the farms which were the economic wheel. All men were called up for service and many women ran the farms while their husbands spent long months in the bush.
Eventually South Africa gave in to external pressure and Rhodesia was forced to hand over to Robert Mugabe who became the new president of one of the most beautiful countries in the world. During the transition Robert Mugabe assured everyone that he offered the hand of reconciliation and every Rhodesian would now be a Zimbabwean and we would all work together for the benefit of our country.

Mugabe went crazy

Unfortunately in 2000 Robert Mugabe held a referendum and found that he was rapidly losing popularity to Morgan Tsvangerai.  As the economy fell with Government over spending an opposition party was formed in the labour unions.  We had already realized how lethal Robert Mugabe was with the killings of the Matabele in the early 80’s.  Crack forces trained in Korea were sent to Matabeleland where they murdered and raped.  It was not even reported in the newspapers for the fear of reprisal.
As Morgan’s popularity grew so did Mugabe’s anger.  He had to suppress a nation and as it was an agriculturally based economy he had to get rid of us.  So we were one of the victims of the 2001 trashing and looting of farms in the Chinhoyi district.
Our neighbours were nearly killed and what they had to endure during the hours that they were barricaded in their home can be read on my website.  They made a decision to leave for New Zealand and asked if we could take their horses.

We fled with the horses to Mozambique

We moved horses and staff over the country leasing farms where we could. As the land invasions intensified we would have to move on, sometimes packing up in less than four hours.  When I look back on it now it seems like a horrible dream. As more and more farmers left the country horses were left behind. As so many people were loathe to leave their beloved horses and did not want them to be put down we took them in.  We always thought that the madness would stop and that we would be able to use the horses for various things if we were able to farm again.
After our 6th eviction we ran out of grazing for the horses and we made a decision to move them to Mozambique.  We also got involved in an agricultural project in a town called Chimoio 80 km from the border. Here we found the horses refuge.  Unfortunately the business soon collapsed as Mozambique was not ready for commercial agriculture. People we had lent money to were unable to pay back and in some instances paprika was sold outside the country through bribes paid by desperate farmers. Our investors quickly withdrew from Mozambique leaving Patrick and I penniless with 104 horses to look after and a lot of debt mainly incurred by farmers who were unable to pay back their debts. A terrible situation to be in.

Settling in Vilanulos

So Patrick loaded 7 horses into an old truck and drove 455 km to the seaside resort of Vilankulos and started Mozambique Horse Safari with not a bean in his pocket while I looked after the rest of the herd in Chimoio.
The horses adapted to their new life very quickly and Patrick was positive we would soon be on our feet.  Unfortunately on the 17th of February barely two months after Pat’s arrival Vilankulos was hit by a cyclone and the damage to tourism was absolutely disastrous.  It has taken nearly two years to rebuild Vilankuos.
We now have 60 horses in Vilankulos. 10 on Benguerra island and 50 on the mainland.

The herd struggled on

Sadly depleted we only have 70 left from the original 104. Mainly disease as Mozambique has had no veterinary control for over 20 years.  Ringworm is endemic in the Mozambican population and rapidly spread through the horses.  We had animals slaughtered and butchered for meat.  We lost a few to road kill after fencing wire had been stolen from the paddocks.13 were given to the Beira Equestrian Centre.
We have survived and it’s a miracle but mainly through the determination of my amazing husband Patrick who has never wavered and has kept us all going though this rather extraordinary life.

The future and moving on with your help

The Mozambique Horse project has now been in operation for nearly three years.  We offer some of the best beach riding in the world. We have been touched by the letters we receive from satisfied riders who have spent time with us. We are proud of our horse’s achievements and hope that we continue to grow.
Our horses have kept us smiling. They have taught us important lessons and kept our family together through some unbearable times. Hopefully we will be able to continue to look after them and face the challenges ahead, all the time looking forward to a brighter future in Mozambique and maybe in the not too distant future we can all go home.