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She’s just as concerned about her appearance as any other woman as she hurries past, fiddling with and adjusting her head covering, a traditional cloth worn by Luo women. She engages as she walks with a man sitting at the hardware store. She cant put off any time, she’s in a hurry to get where ever she is going. The comments made between them they enjoy then soon they can hear one another no longer. No luxury transport for her, not even the benefit of one of many bicycles or motor bikes. The paltry cost of one of those is even too much for this lady. She’s gone into the distance, making long hurried strides which bely a purpose which remains to me unknown, a purpose there doubtless is, for no-one marches this intently with no purpose. Her clothing more Western than traditional suggests some business, maybe a school teacher, maybe small business lady. She is gone into the distance with no hesitation in her step.


This woman is different to many who lounge around a stall front waiting for someone to come to them, awaiting their purpose, happy to accept whatever comes their way; not she, she going to find and deal with it on her terms. Her type are those that’ll change Africa. Alas there are far too few of her type, and so change will be slow if change is to come. A further minor adjustment to her headwear and a glance down at her feet the tell tale signs of someone who is not about let the world pass her by.