The sweeper sweeps a lonely street in Dakar. It’s a hard, thankless job. It doesn’t pay him a lot. But he must earn a living. Nobody notices him. Except the man sitting at the street corner, who is probably worse off. He’s unemployed. The sweeper sweeps. The chicken gets out of the way. The job
My uncle, Eddy, lived in Leeds, UK for many years. He schooled and worked there before returning to Nigeria in the eighties. He didn’t burn his passport when he returned but, I suspect he vowed never to return to Leeds. He was sick of living in a foreign country where he didn’t belong. He got