African Tales – A Dictator’s Haircut

I waved goodbye to my aunt and walked through airport security, it felt good to be alone. I strutted around with a head full of temporary confidence.

The unique flavour of airport life rushed around whilst I hovered near the departures screen. The place felt as if it were alive, movement everywhere you looked. An old lady who must’ve been at least 80 years old, pushed a trolley that had three large suitcases stack one on top of the other.  It was a miracle that she managed to push such a weight, and what was inside them?