I know I am a mother because here I am in Abidjan, away on a work trip and I see so many things to point out the children:
- the fruit bats in the trees opposite my room (remember we found the fossil of the oldest bat known to humans)
- the Zambian and Ghanaian (?) football teams that are staying in the hotel as part of a peace-promoting football tournament; they get a police escort when their coaches pull away
- the swimming pool that I see from window where happy (and affluent) African children paddle about
- the dik dik and monkeys that live at the restaurant where I had lunch
- the train yard that my room overlooks, where a few locomotives (and one commuter train) quietly (!) slip in and out
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