Sunday 5 April 2015

Little Bin

Two weeks ago we heard that Nixon, one of the boys who used to live with us, had passed away.

Nixon was with us for a few years on and off. He would stay with us, seem to be settling down, then decide being good, healthy and clean was not worth the effort and would run away again. Each time he came back he was a little bit sicker and on a few occasions we didn't think he would pull through.

When he first came his English wasn't brilliant. One day I put my arm round him and called him a little bean. Indignantly he spun round saying "bin, bin, me am not a bin, you, you are a bin, a BIG bin." Which lead to Don and I collapsing in fits of giggle and Nixon looking bemused.

Driving round Lusaka in the last few weeks I keep expecting to see him in one of his hangouts or for him to turn up at church, which he sometimes would do. Although he hadn't stayed with us for a while we will miss him.

He was a rogue and loved winding me up... he was especially pleased when, having taken the pictures below, he managed to get lots of people to see them...  so, as I debated which picture of Nixon to put up and these seem like the best choice.

No comments:

Post a Comment