This is Africa #1: Shit Happens

Welcome to This Is Africa.

This is where I’ll be sharing the weird, wonderful, and completely random stories from my life travelling across Africa – the moments that don’t fit into itineraries, guides, or “top 10” lists, but end up being the ones you remember forever.

And this story begins in the village of Mfuwe, near South Luangwa National Park in Zambia.

At the time, I was leading a group tour through Malawi, Zambia and Botswana. One afternoon, myself and one of the girls on the tour – Ida, a lovely Norwegian traveller – decided to do a village visit nearby.

Our guide, Elias, picked us up and took us into the village, where we wandered through a local hair salon, small shops and fruit stalls, stopped by the community water pump, watched brick makers at work, and met local people going about their everyday lives.

It was relaxed, friendly, and exactly the kind of afternoon I love…

We visited a few homes where the people were more than welcoming – and found my attempts to speak Nyanja/Chewa absolutely hilarious. We even got to try the local moonshine. That stuff is STRONG.

Towards the end of the tour, both Ida and I needed to pee, so Elias took us to a local bar, behind which was a communal village long drop.

There were two toilets. I went into one and Ida went into the other.

I was going about my business when I suddenly heard a thump, followed by a panicked cry.

“Oh my God! Oh no!”

“Are you OK, Ida?”

“I forgot my phone was in my back pocket and it fell down the toilet!”

“WHAT?! Hang on – I’m coming!”

I pulled up my pants and ran round to the other toilet as fast as I could. Ida was standing outside, pointing helplessly towards the cubicle.

“It’s down there.”

I looked at the toilet — which was essentially just a hole in the ground – then back at her, my mouth hanging open. I had no idea how she was going to react.

To my enormous relief… she started laughing.

And so did I.

I grabbed my phone, switched on the torch, held it very tightly, and shone the light down the hole. There it was – her phone – lying sideways, half submerged in a mountain of poo.

Too far to reach with an arm (not that I was about to try), but close enough that with the right tools, a rescue might be possible.

We looked at each other again and completely lost it.

Ida was laughing so hard she was crying. I was crying with laughter too – and also slightly retching – tears streaming down my face.

That’s when Elias came running over.

“Are you guys OK?!”

“My phone fell down the toilet,” Ida managed to say between laughs.

His face went through a series of expressions – shock… horror… then a sudden lightbulb moment.

“Hang on a minute!”

And off he ran, while we continued to collapse into hysterics.

A couple of minutes later he returned, accompanied by the guy from the bicycle repair shop, armed with a stick and a rake.

As we watched, they set about retrieving the phone. It reminded me of the game Operation – one wrong move and… well.

Moments later, the phone emerged, absolutely caked in a thick layer of poo down one entire side.

And before you ask – during the retrieval and rescue, my phone storage was full, and Ida’s phone was, well… the thing covered in shit – so tragically there’s no photographic evidence. But to give you an idea, I was really hoping there’d be no chocolate mousse for dessert that night.

Ida was still laughing, and crying. I was laughing, crying, and gagging.

“Want me to clean it for you?” the bicycle guy asked.

If that had been my phone, I’d probably have thrown it straight back down the hole. I’ll get a new phone, thanks.

But not Ida. This girl is made of stronger stuff than me.

“Yes please!”

We both immediately started rummaging through our bags for the essentials every traveller carries – wipes, toilet paper, antiseptic wipes, hand sanitiser.

I managed to free up some space on my phone just in time to catch the end of ‘Operation Clean-Up’.

Cleaned within an inch of its life and minus its protective case, and after a generous tip, we headed straight into the local bar, where I bought everyone a round of drinks.

We toasted to the phone, we danced, drank more beer, and continued laughing about what had just happened. I aim to offer genuine, local experiences — it doesn’t get more real than that!

Then it was back to the lodge for dinner, where we regaled the rest of the group with our adventure – and pretty much everyone we met for the rest of the trip with the tale of the phone down the long drop.

Ida, you are an absolute legend.