The citrus chronicles of Phikwe

‘We’ll reopen the mine!’ they declared, with the confidence of magicians pulling rabbits out of hats. Only problem? The hat was empty. The rabbits had emigrated. And the promises turned out to be nothing more than political window dressing — the kind you hang up for show but never dust. I was in Phikwe this past week, and let me tell you — this town is nothing if not resilient. I arrived expecting to find a town in mourning — after all, the copper mine has closed, the economy is supposedly in gloom, and we have been told that the sky is practically falling.

Yet, strangely enough, nobody seemed to have received the memo. The streets were full of cheers. Shops were open. People were going about their business, laughing and living as usual — completely failing to behave like residents of an economy that has been declared doomed.