This blog is the beginning of what may very well turn out to be a very, very long story. I want it to tell the story of what has happened truthfully and honestly, a story that will cover 20 years in the lives of the Opperman family, the ups and downs, the heart-break, and the fight that has at this moment, 16th of June 2009, lasted for over 8 years and still is not at an end.
I first met Pio Opperman in 1998, in Katima Mulilo in the Caprivi Strip, Namibia, when he brought his beloved dog Ghandi to the lady I was staying with to be sewn up after she had been attacked by two Bull Terriers. That was the 31st December, New Years Eve, 1998. I was living in Zambia at the time but was spending the New Year in town. I was 16 years old.
You could say that we fell in love straight away, who knows, but we did land up spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks, before going our separate ways and losing contact with each other. I moved back to South Africa, from there to Ireland and from Ireland to England and my life went on. Our story I think is an entirely different one, or one which I will write in another post.
During my time in Katima I only remember going to the lodge once. It was a stunning place even then, but at the age of 16 surrounding beauty is low on the list of things to notice. Life was about having fun, and have fun we did. I regret now that I didn't take this opportunity to meet Pio's Uncles that were still there at that time - I remember them vaguely but sadly did not do more than greet them.
In my time away from Africa, and Namibia in particular, things turned bad for the Opperman family, and this is what I am going to try and work through, from the beginning, 20 years ago, when Pio and I were still kids. The person with the best memory in this situation is Chris, Pio's mother, and so I shall be doing my very best to get the information out of her head and onto paper.
What I do know about the lodge now, is that it is a very beautiful place, that holds a wealth of very special memories for the family, memories that cannot be replaced, memories that they do not wish to lose. It also held a dream for Pio until recently, a golden dream of a life, a new beginning, and having his children grow up as he did.
That dream may never become a reality now, but somehow, even if it is just to honour the family and their memories, I really want to write this. It may be that no one ever reads it. It may be that no one even knows Hippo Lodge existed. It may be that no one will ever know the true story, and it will be forgotten by those that do know it in time. But there is a chance, even if a very slim one, that someone out there will read this and tell someone else. And so this story will spread and one day, it may be something more than just a memory for the family that fought for their way of life and their dream.
I first met Pio Opperman in 1998, in Katima Mulilo in the Caprivi Strip, Namibia, when he brought his beloved dog Ghandi to the lady I was staying with to be sewn up after she had been attacked by two Bull Terriers. That was the 31st December, New Years Eve, 1998. I was living in Zambia at the time but was spending the New Year in town. I was 16 years old.
You could say that we fell in love straight away, who knows, but we did land up spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks, before going our separate ways and losing contact with each other. I moved back to South Africa, from there to Ireland and from Ireland to England and my life went on. Our story I think is an entirely different one, or one which I will write in another post.
During my time in Katima I only remember going to the lodge once. It was a stunning place even then, but at the age of 16 surrounding beauty is low on the list of things to notice. Life was about having fun, and have fun we did. I regret now that I didn't take this opportunity to meet Pio's Uncles that were still there at that time - I remember them vaguely but sadly did not do more than greet them.
In my time away from Africa, and Namibia in particular, things turned bad for the Opperman family, and this is what I am going to try and work through, from the beginning, 20 years ago, when Pio and I were still kids. The person with the best memory in this situation is Chris, Pio's mother, and so I shall be doing my very best to get the information out of her head and onto paper.
What I do know about the lodge now, is that it is a very beautiful place, that holds a wealth of very special memories for the family, memories that cannot be replaced, memories that they do not wish to lose. It also held a dream for Pio until recently, a golden dream of a life, a new beginning, and having his children grow up as he did.
That dream may never become a reality now, but somehow, even if it is just to honour the family and their memories, I really want to write this. It may be that no one ever reads it. It may be that no one even knows Hippo Lodge existed. It may be that no one will ever know the true story, and it will be forgotten by those that do know it in time. But there is a chance, even if a very slim one, that someone out there will read this and tell someone else. And so this story will spread and one day, it may be something more than just a memory for the family that fought for their way of life and their dream.
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