Day 5. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.

Day 5 began bright and early with a plan to be at the orphanage with our children at 8.30am for the anticipated start of drilling. Trevor (head of the drilling team) had contacted us late at night saying that he had an appointment at 7.30am with Zinwa (Zimbabwe National Water Authority) to secure the permit needed to start work that morning.

We arrived full of enthusiasm and excitement for the big day, but were quickly disappointed by the continued allusiveness of the Zinwa agent who was to provide the permit we needed to start.



Never wanting to waste a moment of each day we are here in Zimbabwe, we all took this opportunity to let our kids play with the children of the orphanage. For the first few days, they were very shy and reserved and were not the outgoing friendly kids that we know they can be.



But today all of that changed and Anderson and August had an absolute blast playing for hours with the other children. They started wearing their sandals while the orphans were barefoot but within a few minutes, not wanting to be different, they took off their shoes and ran around without shoes as well. This was exactly the experience that we were hoping that this trip would provide for Anderson and August, and they loved every minute of the day also.



Around 10am, we heard that the permit we so desperately needed, would not be possible until at least the early afternoon, so we went for a quick bite to eat at the local sports club bar for a fizzy drink and a plate of chips for the kids. This remnant of colonial times is a cornerstone of the community for locals, and it was a lucky moment for the kids to see monkeys for the first time. There is a playground just outside, and monkeys were climbing on the slides and see-saw, and along the fences watching us just as much as we were watching them. Whilst enjoying our impromptu wildlife show, we received the call that all was go, and we headed back to the orphanage.

Whilst I was driving I received the following message from Mrs V (the orphanage’s matron): 

“Can you please come there’s an argument”

As soon as we arrived, there had already been a crisis and the most stressful of days was just about to get going.

We had prepared the area for drilling the previous day, and we had been informed that this was the absolute best place to drill with water breaks at several points over the whole 50m. But already, this was looking unlikely to be an ideal place to drill. The support legs from the rigging truck had already started to be put down and sank into an old well, meaning that drilling was initially impossible. 



I do love a bit of crisis management and problem solving, but this was very much outside of my realm of experience. Luckily a more knowledgeable John was with me to make a plan with Trevor. We decided that we’d fill the old well with the rubble from the demolished concrete bench that had been in the corner of the garden, and then compact it with the support strut from the rig, and then fill the space made from that compaction, and then repeat until the ground seemed to be as solid as we could make it.

After around an hour of this, the very first 5m drilling rod was put into place, and started to eat its way into the earth. Slowly at first, but steady and seemingly without immediate issue.



Suddenly, a group of well dressed people came to the garden gate and demanded to see the owner of the property. Mr V went with them, and suddenly as a result, drilling was stopped even before it had really begun. We initially didn’t really understand why we had to stop, but I made the assumption that the noise, smoke and commotion had caused some problems with the neighbours and they were coming to make a complaint. I was wrong.

These were no neighbours, but undercover police. Despite only recently receiving our drilling permit, and with everything being above board and legal, we were told to halt all drilling until every possible license and permit could be produced. Even I was questioned. Who I was, what I was doing there, why was we were helping this particular orphanage. I have to admit, I was a little curt in my answers as I couldn’t easily hide my annoyance that more bureaucracy was getting in the way of our days mission. Trevor and his fellow management team came to speak to the police one by one, each one looking more nervous and worried than the next. It became clear that although we had a permit for what we were doing, the company was clearly falling foul of some recently introduced new legislation to ensure that taxes were paid, and staff were legally employed and insured to work.

I was really quite worried for around 30-40 mins that we were about to have the whole day of drilling halted, and perhaps have to look for another drilling company to take over which could delay everything for days, if not weeks.

Whilst I continue with my crude attempts at a charm offensive, another member of Trevor’s team approaches the police officers and calls one of them away from the rest of the group. It is clear that the two of them know eachother and they speak in hushed tones. The other officers turn their back to the whole conversation and wait patiently for it finish. I look to see if perhaps something was about to change hands, but I see nothing despite my best efforts. After this quiet chat, however, suddenly everything is fine and the impasse is over. I find out later that a token payment was made for the police to leave and not come back again.

“You can drill, thank you” is all they said as they got back into their cars and drove away, and work could begin once again.

We make our way back to the front yard, and the rig starts up. Suddenly, and almost before we are even ready, we “hit water” and a slurry of wetness gushes out of the ground like we have hit oil. There are smiles all round, and we think “That was easy”… 



This feeling is short-lived when we notice that none of the drillers are celebrating as we are. The water isn’t from the ground water, but from the old well. Despite our best efforts, the area isn’t secure enough, and the walls of the bore hole had already shown signs of collapse early on. This whole area that we had prepared, that we had divined and that we had already invested half a day into, had to be abandoned. We argued the case that this was the only viable place for finding water in the front yard, but they were adamant that it was not possible. We were devastated to say the least.

It was time to make another plan. One based on hope and gut feeling more than anything else. The other side of the yard, around 6-7m away was also clear (where the gated entrance was) and we were promised that if we drilled there, we were sure to find something. Not the serious amount of water from the first location, but enough to do what we needed. By now it was already after 2pm and the kids had been getting restless having been out all day and we decided to use the time it would take to take down some more wall and move the truck to the new location, to take the kids home and get them lunch.

At around 3.30pm, I returned on my own (although my friend John soon joined me), to find a huge plume of dust and smoke billowing from the new drilling site. Work was well underway and they had already gone down to 20m while I had been away.



Still no sign of water though. We had been promised that there would be water already at this depth in the original spot, so this was a little concerning. With every rod length that was used, there would be around 20mins of intense noise and dust. And with that noise and dust came more and more anxious looks. Even the smallest amount of damp earth that came out of the new hole was brought over to me to show that there was water there, but it was clear that this wasn’t the kind of water that we needed and it would barely fill a thimble, let alone the 5000 litre tank we have planned to fit.

By 30m I’m very worried as all I see is more and more dust from pulverised bedrock. Nothing can disguise the sheepishness of the drillers as they try to avoid eye contact with me knowing that things are not going well.

By 40m I’m in full on internal “I’ve wasted everyone’s money” mode. By this point at the original location we should be hitting the 5th and main break of water. Here in hole 2, all I see is dust. I think to myself about how I had made this decision to move the borehole and all the responsibility of its failure would be rightly mine. I was thinking how I would have explain on the blog, how I’d probably explain on a video and accept my failure to everyone and apologize for letting everyone down. I was stood alone in the thick of the dust and noise and I wondered what we could possibly do to rectify this situation. I am very aware of the sunken cost fallacy (“the phenomenon whereby a person is reluctant to abandon a strategy or course of action because they have invested heavily in it, even when it is clear that abandonment would be more beneficial.”) and I was telling myself not to throw good money after bad. I wouldn’t be able to explain not only making the first bad decision, but then following it up with another one by spending more money on something that was already proving fruitless.



By 45m, I’m properly stewing in my own thoughts. I make my way over to Trevor and remind him that he promised me water and that is why we moved the rig from the planned location to this new location. It is clear from how he looks at me, that he is just winging it. He has no idea if there would be water here or not, he is just hoping there is as much as I am. I tell him: “You know, this isn’t a borehole for my house, its not for your house; this is for these children. This is more important that any other drilling you will do this year. You understand that, right?” 

With this he promises to “give a few extra metres” to attempt to hit water, but there is no guarantee. This could still be a very expensive, and very dry hole.

One of the guys who I thought was working as part of the drilling team pulls me to one side and asks me what I had discussed with Trevor. I tell him that we will drill a little deeper. Before being able to tell him that these extra metres would be for free, he tells me “Pull out. Don’t spend any more money on this hole. There is no water here”.

As you can imagine, this does NOT fill me with confidence and despite the sun on my face, I can feel that I must look pale and worried.

It is at this time, at 48m, with only 2 metres still to go, the rig suddenly comes to a halt. They have run out of diesel.

The constant drilling through solid bedrock has taken its toll and the fuel that was put aside for this entire job has finished before the end. There is now a 40min break while fuel is sourced, and everyone is on edge. Everyone is waiting for the gush of water, and it seems like it is never going to come.

When the fuel arrives it’s now 5pm, the sun is getting low and we’ve been working on this borehole in one way or another the whole day and now we are just a few metres away from potential success, or more likely failure.

The engine starts and everyone is crowded round waiting to see what happens next, and suddenly and from nowhere, there is a massive gush of water. We had been sat right on the edge of it, and only a few cm from where we had paused through lack of fuel, we finally hit liquid gold.




I struggled to get my phone into camera mode and recorded perhaps the most joyous 20seconds of video I have ever recorded. 

Watch it here.

All along I had felt it was just me stood, stressing and hoping, but all 22 children were also there behind the safety of the windows and away from the dust, quite literally praying that we would hit water soon, and as soon as we did, the house could not contain them anymore and it was like your favourite team had just scored the winning goal in the cup final with everyone jumping around and cheering. I can’t help but feel emotional myself and suddenly the stress is lifted and I feel the emotion of the whole situation.

Luck played a huge part, and I totally understand that too, but in the end it was a success and it is your donations that made all this happen. It was an absolute privilege to be here to see it, but it wouldn’t have been possible without the help from all our friends and family who saw this as a worthy cause. It’s by no means over yet, but the biggest step has been taken and we can’t wait until the first cup of clean drinking water is drank and know that we have all played our small part in making that happen.

As the cheers settle down, and as the hugs slow somewhat, one of the older children comes to me and says: “You have done a wonderful thing. Water is life”

But I know that WE have done it as a team. You, if you have donated, Nicole as my rock and partner, John and Jackie who opened up their home to us so that we could have a base here to work from, and every one else that has helped along the way. This was a team effort in the biggest sense and we thank each and every one of you!

Tomorrow we return to finish the job, but until then 3 words stick in my mind on a loop and it makes me realize how much we take having access to it for granted at home, but here in Zimbabwe WATER IS LIFE.

If you would like to help support us and what we are doing here, the link is here: www.gofundme.com/zimbabwe-school

Thank you everyone!