I was driving along the freeway the other day (never quite sure which one, but one of those that take you out of the city) when I saw a homeless man, living under a bridge right next to the road. He had the obligatory shopping trolley, filled with tins and bottles and random bits of broken treasure, and you could see that he’d made a fire the night before, to keep out the cold.
An old man, in ragged clothes, with a distinctly crazy look in his eyes.
Just like any other homeless man, you might say.
Except that as I drove past he was sweeping his patch of dirt clean (an anomaly of words if ever there was one).
This would have been remarkable enough, but what made it even more poignant was the fact that there were no trees around. Which meant he would have had to climb to the other side of the highway — a good 10-minute trek — to pick the branches to clean under his bridge.
House proud, you might say.
How much more so than all the legions of white kids (myself included) who grew up with a Gertrude or a Joyce to pick up our dropped clothes, sweep our floors and wash our dishes?
A little lesson in gratitude while zooming out of the city, perhaps?
A prince with dignity and determination
Prince Ngarambe’s goals are to become Rwanda’s first transgender model and to uplift the country’s youth
The EFF’s principles are unshakeable
Unlike the ANC, the core values of the freedom fighters do not change with each leader it elects
