Radio: Iron That Catches Words

In Northern Rhodesia, on the broad lands between the Limpopo and Congo Rivers, more than half a million primitive Africans have found a new, fascinating way to kill time. Every night in their mud huts they listen to their kabulo ka kwa-bamakani (small piece of iron that catches words in air). Their radios are tuned to Lusaka's Central African Broadcasting Station, and their favorite show is a request program called Zimene Mwa Tifunsa (Those You Have Asked For). They also have their favorite record, Don't Sell Daddy Any More Whisky, a lachrymose ditty in hillbilly style:

Don't sell daddy any more whisky I know it will take him away. For we are all hungry and mommy is weeping Don't sell him no whisky today.

Despite this contribution of the state of Tennessee to the culture of Africa, even the restrained British colonials of the area, long given to understatement, describe CABS as a "remarkable wireless indeed." It is probably the only radio station in a completely white-run land that broadcasts almost exclusively to blacks. It began as a peanut-whistle transmitter during the war to get military news around the colony. After the war it was continued in the hope of providing a link between the government and its millions of Negro subjects.

Safe Blue. The big problem was receiving sets. Then a British civil servant persuaded a British radio manufacturer to produce a cheap, durable set suitable for the bush. The result was the Saucepan Special, a battery-operated, four-tube set with a 50¢ saucepan as its cabinet. The sets are painted blue, the only color that does not clash with any of the region's innumerable tribal superstitions. Most important of all, they are insect-proof. Last week, with 60,000 sets in operation and an average of nine listeners per set, the Saucepan Special linked almost every Rhodesian village with the outside world.

With the success of Operation Saucepan, the government gave CABS more kilowatts, with the understanding that every day from noon to 9 p.m. it would be the bearer of the word from the white bwanas to the natives. His Excellency the Governor tried some familiar commercial radio techniques to win cooperation from his subjects. "Be on the Side of Law and Order!" CABS cried. "Pay Your Taxes Now!" Such Madison Avenue methods left listeners bored and unimpressed. Little dramatic parables pointing to a simple moral proved more effective, but nobody can be sure of the effect of the daily lectures, e.g., Proof that Germs, Not Witchcraft, Cause Disease. One indignant listener demanded: "Why do you waste so much time preaching to our people about harmless dirt on feet, when you could be broadcasting us how to make money and other usefuls?" One African announcer refused to read a lecture on female hygiene. "You may think this does good, bwana," he told the white station director, "but we do not speak of these things in our society. The people would tear me to pieces if I speak of their women in this way." The lecture was dropped.