![]() ![]() She was on her MP and Brenda was too-their work schedule had synced their bodies, which were apparently indifferent to their mutual dislike. Thandi sighed, then winced as a cramp clenched her stomach. The rest patiently awaited their feeding. Two businessmen were laughing-they would want a whisky or a G&T soon. Some passengers had already dozed off from the heat and vibration of lift-off. She smoothed down her striped skirt, pulled back the edge of the pleated curtains and peeked out at today’s flock. Thandi unclicked her belt and got up from the folding cabin seat, which flipped up with an irritable thunk. ‘Welcome,’ the captain’s voice smacked and crumpled over the intercom. As the plane’s steep climb slowly tilted forward and evened out, she counted. Over the past year, Thandiwe had developed an internal clock for when the seat-belt sign would go off. ![]() She received a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers’ Award in 2011 and won the 2015 Caine Prize for African Writing. ![]() A small nation grows from a former colonial settlement on the banks of the Zambezi River, where the fates of an Italian hotelier and an African busboy become entangled, sparking a generations-long cycle of retributions. ![]() The following is from Namwali Serpell's debut novel The Old Drift. ![]()
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