Life Expectancy in Zambia

Amazing stats from an amazing woman. Thanks

Letters from Lusaka

Yesterday the road in front of our house was like the Santa Monica Freeway, which is especially odd when you consider that we live 3 km out on a very poor pot-hole rock-laden dusty red-dirt road.  It’s nearly impossible to find someone’s home back here because the dozens of crisscrossing roads are unnamed, and there are no numbers or addresses on homes.  (When people come to visit us I have to give them road markers, “turn right at the three-way split and follow the bougainvilleas on your left,” then “turn left at the corner house with three German Shepherds who will escape through the electric fence and try to block your path,” etc.)

I figured the traffic was due to the half-dozen cardboard “Funeral Home” signs directing people how to get from Leopards Hill road (the main drag) to the neighbor three plots down from us who had erected a…

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