It’s cold. It’s dark. You’ve slept outside the whole evening. Your body is scarred from thorn trees and scrambling through the bush. For years you’ve been battered about, and most days you are poked and prodded. Now it’s 6 o’clock in the morning and you have to get going. It’s no wonder the start to the day may be a struggle. Of all the staff at WE, I think he has it the hardest.
Cry the Beloved Tank…
Good old faithful TANK!
Poor old soul, he was recently forced into semi-retirement. His replacement has been a bit spoilt. A cheeky little thing, all shiny and cute, Jigga stepped in and filled his tracks. Now it’s a new page, and Jigga has to deliver, and so far has done a brilliant job of it. Tank still gets out and about though, with short excursions in and around Djuma. Rexon obliges, to keep him fit. And Tank helps to get him to work when needed.
Neither the Jigga nor the Tank are on the payroll and they don’t get days off. Day in and day out, it’s been their job to get out there and find us the magic. So if we find ourselves wanting to curse them because they took an extra few minutes in the morning, I think we need to remind ourselves that without them, none of it would be possible.
Written by Angie