Oral History
May, 1977
There's always been one house like a white man's house in the village of Dilolo. Built of brick, with a roof that bounced signals from the sun. You could see it through the mopane trees as you did the flash of paraffin tins the women carried on their heads, bringing water from the river. The rest of the village was river mud, gray, shaped by the hollows of hands, with reed thatch and poles of mopane from which the leaves had been ripped like fish scales.It was the chief's house. Some chiefs have...
