If you’ve ever been anywhere public in Zambia then you know that we have a small problem with personal space. Chaps be pushing and touching skins like we’re all related or something. A bus conductor will be happily counting his wad of cash oblivious to the fact that his hand is touching your boob. This one time I felt a hand on my thigh, I looked up to find the owner of the hand with an innocent look on his face. Apparently he wasn’t seated comfortably and was using my thigh to support himself. A few choice words and a murderous look later, he moved his hand.
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