While other countries were experimenting with coups and chaos, Botswana was calmly saying, ‘We’ll just vote, thank you very much.’ The second thing that happened was the Orapa mine was discovered, and suddenly the country went from ‘we have cows’ to ‘we have bling.’ Picture villagers squinting at shiny rocks and saying, ‘Is this worth more than a goat?’ Thirdly, and perhaps not so significant, I was born. Yes, me! When I was born it was pretty quiet in GC. The area was still essentially a wilderness: The population was tiny; there were few permanent dwellings; and there actually were some available parking spaces at the place we now call ‘Main Mall.’ And there were no parking marshals- in fact none of the marshals in existence was born. So today is my birthday. Not that the world actually cares — the stock market didn’t pause, the birds didn’t sing louder and nobody declared a public holiday. But inside my little household tribe, there’s an unspoken expectation: they must do something worthwhile to prove they have at least a morsel of care.
A cake, a card, or even just pretending to remember without checking Facebook reminders would be nice. At 57, birthdays lose their sparkle. People get tired of celebrating you. Once upon a time, you got balloons, gifts and maybe a surprise party. Now? You’re lucky if someone scribbles ‘Happy Birthday’ on a card they bought at Game Store. And these days, people have become bold — no, audacious — enough to send e cards.
