Across the river Rukwa, the citizens of Rungwa stir from their makeshift shelters. Most of the Africans have slept in the open. They are, in the main,...servants and employees of the whites, wives and children of Askaris and the favourites of some of the white men. Most of the others have remained in the village across the river.This is not their fight, many of them think. To them, a white master is just like any other. They differ only in the language they speak. It was only 30 years ago, and. “Jack? Can you run to the pool and get me some towels? My clothes don’t exactly fit me anymore,” Mrs. Fattorusso pleaded. “What you don’t wanna try leaving school naked?” I joked. “I mean it’s just towels so I practically am,” She beamed. I reluctantly stood up and got dressed. The school was almost empty except for a few clubs that stuck around after school. I raced down to the pool. There was a swim team meeting going on. Luckily I was able to sneak in and snag a few towels without being. More

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