Friday Postscript

In the middle of a clearing stood a building. A grass-roofed open hut was to the side. No other structure was visible except a water pump at the end of a path.  The building was a school and it was made of cinder blocks. There was no glass in the window frames, only iron bars. The floor was dusty dirt. And on the top of clay bricks were wooden planks for seats. There was nothing on the walls, no chalkboard,  no charts. The room was void of colour. In the heat of the day the grey metal roof made noises caused by the heat of the sun.

Seventeen people sat on the benches. A baby played in the dirt. Seventeen people expectant, eager to learn, anticipating.

They were teachers.

Nancy Weir
Kabwe Zambia


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