In Zambia, there’s always that one person at a funeral who cries louder than the widow. They’ll be rolling on the ground shouting, "Mayo! Why have you left us?!" but then ten minutes later, you find them in the kitchen asking, "Has the Nshima finished? And did they put enough pieces of meat in the beans for the visitors?"
Crying is exhausting—laughter is better. 👉 Join the VIP Fun:
