It all changed, of course. The president and his wife plundered their homeland, the farms were taken over by his cronies and the agricultural backbone of the country was snapped and paralysed.
And yet, she told herself as she watched the elephant move down to the river, there was this. No crooked politician or gang of criminals could rob her or anyone else of the simple joy of seeing a sight as grand as this.
Beyond the elephant, which had stopped to drink at the river’s edge, was an aluminium boat with a canopy and outboard and four people aboard. There was nothing unusual about that, except for the hour. Most game-viewing and fishing cruises went out at dawn or dusk to improve the passengers’ chances of catching something, with a hook or a camera. But there were no hard and fast rules.
