Monday, 25 July 2016

Never judge a book by it's cover

I met this young chap at the banks of the mighty Zambezi River in Zambia carrying his daily bread. For the record, those monsters were still alive. They kept on kicking and twisting, wiggling and squirming, wobbling and coiling. Perhaps they were looking for Fatou Bensouda's number, or desperately trying to remember the Lord's Prayer. They looked enraged, bitter and wrathful. He would occasionally say something to them in his Njaya dialect, and the fish would appear to nod their heads in fear, and immediately act dead. 

Thursday, 21 July 2016

Royal Dreams

I arrived in Mongu tired like a pregnant squirrel. As the gods would have it, I was in this part of the world to check out that small matter educated minds call provision of appropriate services to marginalised communities. However, for those with a flattering of tongue or fertile imagination, without even twinkling an eyelid will say shitty words like: empowering Africans to live with dignity, or the classic - eradication of poverty in Africa.