So, after a nice long day of farming, you return home, past 7pm, with the boot full of food, knowing that you are ‘safe’ for the whole of the next week.
As you drive past the gate, your neighbor, the one whose child always comes by your place to play with your nieces and nephews during the holidays, waves you a “hello”.
You haul the stuff out of the car and lay it out in the backyard, apportioning what you will give to the neighbors. Sweet potatoes for these ones, sugarcane for the house with so many grandchildren, beans for that house, arrowroots for the old lady - she loves them so much.
And because you are exhausted, you decide that you will take them over the next morning, Sunday.
So the next morning, Sunday, you start taking the food over.
Madam Arrow-roots says she will put them on the ntamu for lunch, the sweet-potato batch receive theirs with much appreciation, and the so-many grand kids immediately pounce on the sugarcane and start chewing loudly even before you leave their house.
Then you walk over to the gate of the neighbor who had waved you “hello”.
There are no curtains in the windows. The house is empty.
Why do people like moving at night?
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