A story

We share our section with another family, who live in the larger house in front of ours. I haven’t quite worked out whose house it is exactly – there is a revolving series of people who come and go living there. Someone’s brother, someone’s grand-niece, someone’s sister’s husband’s child. It’s a beautiful part of Zambian culture that whoever needs somewhere to stay will find it. 

There are 3 bedrooms in this house, shared between 4 adults and 3 children.  Add Atkins and I in our little house out the back and that’s 9 of us on a standard New Zealand section. And that doesn’t feel crowded. It feels wonderful. We are a family. We respect each other’s privacy, but there is always someone to chat to, and we help each other out.

It’s pretty amazing. Do we need 4 bedrooms for 2 people in New Zealand? Are we losing something beautiful by shutting ourselves away like that? For me, the answer is a resounding yes.

Now here is the story – typical of here. One of the children who lives in the house described above is a 12-year-old girl. Her mother died in child-birth. Her father died several years later. Now she stays with whoever in the extended family can have her. She is impeccably polite, helpful and works very hard at school. She hopes to be a doctor. She inspires me to be a better person.