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We can all be grateful to the friends we've made in our lives. I often think back to those I have learned from and laughed with, and it makes me smile. 

One friend who stands out in my mind is Matrine Chuulu. She was a law student in Lusaka, sharing an apartment with a mutual friend. I lived 400 miles away in Northern Province but, when I would come south to Lusaka, Matrine and I would meet and talk about our lives. Although she was a law student, she wasn't from a rich family. Her mother sacrificed, wanted her daughter to be independent and professional. Zambia was a fledgling democracy, we were all optimistic about the future, and Matrine gave me insight into contemporary Africa. I'm not sure what I gave her, but we talked, shared our ideas of life and the future. 

When I left Zambia we wrote to each other but, as children came along, our letter-writing fell to the way side. Until about 25 years later and I decided to visit the country that had so changed me. I looked up Matrine's name on the internet, and she wasn't simply a lawyer. No, Matrine was now the head of Women in Law in Southern Africa. I felt a little intimidated but I called her office number. When she came on the line, she was laughing. "Yvonne, I still tell people about you." We caught up on the obvious changes in our lives. I told her I wanted to return and asked if I could stay with her. No problem, she said. I was doing a lot of freelance reporting at the time and planned to pursue stories on Zambian charities - locals helping locals and no Bob Geldof or Oxfam in sight. Also, my trip would cover the national elections, my favourite time in any country.

Twenty five years is a long time, Matrine and I were both older, but we could both still talk all night about politics and social issues. The day after the election, her girls were playing at the back of the house, Matrine was lying on a sofa reading a newspaper, I was in an armchair with another paper. And I looked up to see Matrine shaking. At first I thought she was laughing, but she didn't answer when I spoke. I stood and walked towards her and realised she was having an epileptic fit. I knew no emergency number to call, but she was on her side and breathing. So I stayed and watched her. When she fell into sleep. I went out to find her girls. "Ahh, it's too much chocolate," her oldest, Kyape said. However, I think it might have had another cause - overwork! Although Matrine worked at national and international levels, she stepped away to help any woman who came to her office - whether it was to do with work, marriage, property, no matter. She gave them advice or sent them to where they needed to go. While the chocolate I brought didn't help her, I believe it was overwork that brought on those fits.

It took days for the election ballots to be counted, especially the rural votes. One day I was at market where young people carved traditional African scenes for sale to tourists - it was a project to ease the youth unemployment. Matrine came to pick me up along with her aunt and uncle. 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"To see the next president of Zambia," the aunt told me. Hakainde Hichilema was a farmer and had a construction business, lots of practical experience of Zambian life. He didn't win the election that year, but guess who is president now?

The last time I saw Matrine she was attending a conference in London. We shopped the sales, tried on clothes and laughed at what we saw in the mirror - isn't this what girls do?

A few years ago, Kyape contacted me to say her mother had died unexpectedly. She left her daughters with a great education and a strong sense of life's possibilities, something we should all leave our children. For me, I have nothing but gratitude for all the conversations and laughter we shared. She was quite a woman.

https://genderlinks.org.za/programme-web-menu/a-press-releases/matrine-chuulu-2015-04-08/





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