"Working Like a Motswana"
The other day, as I raked my large yard of dirt, a woman walking by paused, shifted her weight to one hip, and smiled from ear to ear. I felt her presence on the other side of the gate, wiped the sweat from my brow, and looked up with a friendly greeting “Dumela Mma!” (At this point, I’m used to being a splendorous attraction). She shook her head and smiled even bigger. “Kitso!” She exclaimed, her voice gaining an octave with each word, “You are working like a Motswana!” I couldn’t help but chuckle and nod it off. I affirmed her statement by saying, “Eeh Mma!” She continued on her journey, her face still creased into a smile. Watering the garden (that has since died due to no water in the village) A couple days later, as I rode my newly-bought bicycle to the junior secondary school, children ran alongside me screaming with excitement. Talk began circulating around the village that I knew how to ride a bicycle and people came to my ...