...Chawama news...

A little boy walks into the local store, looks up and smiles at me.
He looks scruffy, cant be older than six or seven. He looks alive and alert.
He is attended to by the lady behind the counter. He asks for something, she takes a piece of cardboard off the display and removes a small tube.
'Seven thousand'. He hands her a note of ten thousand kwacha. While she gets the change I look at the display. I see small tubes of glue. I look down and see a small used dirty plastic bottle in his hand.
I walk out disturbed. Who am I to intervene and forbid her to sell the glue to the charming little sniffer?