Zambians celebrate eclipse

Zambians celebrated the eclipse with a public holiday

By BBC News Online's John Brunsdon in Lusaka

The last time Zambia witnessed a total eclipse of the sun the newly-arrived Ngoni people feared it marked the end of the world - a divine retribution for the previous day's historically excessive drinking binge which marked their crossing of the Zambezi river.

One hundred and sixty-six years on, the concerns of the people of Lusaka were more pragmatic, but just as pressing.

For a few minutes, we all stood equal, those with glasses, those without, watching three minutes 19 seconds of nature at its most beautiful.

"This is the event of a lifetime, no-one alive today in Zambia has seen an eclipse, but we are all going to miss it because there are no glasses."

The man in the queue outside Lusaka's main tourist office stopped me as I was ushered in, past the line of people patiently waiting - and waiting - to buy protective glasses at cost price.

Touts just yards away were selling them for up to six time their face value, way above what many ordinary Zambians could afford.

"Please, get us some glasses and we will love you for it," he implored.

But neither love nor money could get them inside - I could get information, but for glasses, join the queue.

Many of those who did get their glasses, plus many who did not, made their way to the University of Zambia, where an official viewing site had been set up.

Home made specs

There were also those enterprising enough to have constructed their own out of anything from a welder's helmet to a cardboard tube topped with what appeared to be silver paper from a crisp packet.

A lot of partying around Lusaka

Sylvia Chivweta, a communications student at the university, had enlisted the physics department to help her make her pair, and joined the growing crowd in front of the main entertainment stage.

"We were able to get some glasses, but a lot of people were asking 10,000 Kwacha ($2.5) for a pair.

"When some people can't always afford to eat, there is no way they can afford that."

But the party mood was starting to set in, with comradely sharing of glasses making up for the shortfall.

Then, the moment arrived.

Darkness

The brass band, still wearing their glasses, played on as darkness fell to the sound of drums, dancing and cheers.

A few people jokingly wished us goodnight, then everyone stood back to witness what was a truly amazing spectacle.

For a few minutes, we all stood equal, those with glasses, those without, watching three minutes 19 seconds of nature at its most beautiful.

A perfect diamond ring marked the end of the eclipse, daylight rushed back in, and the glasses that had been gold dust were consigned to back pockets.

People began to make their way to the beer tents, confident that whatever force had created this century's eclipse clearly did not frown on drinking in quite the same way as in 1835.

The world was not about to end, and neither, just yet, was the party.