tears of the son
I am a true Basarwa, a true son of Kalahari desert, a true son of my mother Africa, look into my eyes, life is survival, the luxury of having water, maybe a plate of rice, I am not crying for that new IPod, in fact maybe I am not crying at all, the tears are rolling down my cheeks by their own will, or maybe the hot north wind just push some sand into my eyes, you will never know……
Context dictates goals. Goals dictate projects. Projects dictate actions. Actions dictate results.
In this context what results life reserved me?