Enough with drunken driving

It is time to roast meat on the open fire. Time to give and to love. Time for music and dance. Gaborone, must give back to the villages what she has stolen. Village economies must blossom. No matter how broke you are, somehow you must end up home.

And that is exactly what I intend to do. I will be going home to the village of my boyhood. I will be taking an excursion back to simplicity. I intend to walk on the sands of the Mahalapye river and to throw the pebbles as far as my eyes can see. My children will connect with their clans-folk. I am taking my daughter’s trampoline with me. I am taking it for the village kids. They will jump on it until stars come out of hiding. I want to hear their chuckles as they jump merrily on it. I am shutting the door on Gaborone. Don’t plan trouble with the police. I will be on voicemail.