My first acquaintance with this boy was when he was 2 days old, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for me to fetch him and his mother from hospital. During the pregnancy I knitted for him, like any gandmother would do...His mother, Joyce was and still is employed by us as a domestic worker.

Like any other cute baby, he slept most of the first few months and Joyce used to carry him on her back. She registered him as Ernest, but I gave him the nick-name of Fana (meaning "boy" as opposed to "girl"). Soon everybody would call him Fana, even his grandmother, Agnes, who came to visit him over weekends, but has retired to neighbouring Zimbabwe a few month's ago.

Fana grew up in my home and we treated him as our own. DH spoiled him to bits and Fana had more toys than my own children when they were his age. I remember having bought a manual toy truck and how we laughed when he was trying to press on it to make it go forward...he was only used to battery-operated toys!

Here in Botswana, I have only one friend, "Wendy" which I visit once a week and who eagerly puts a cup of tea in front of me a minute or two after I enter the shop. Fana used to cry when I go to Wendy's, but was so excited on my return and always asked "How is Wendy's?"

He was a little confused with his mother's name "Joyce", ...how can "Mamma" be "Joyce"? The only other person left was me, therefore I had to be "Joyce", and up to today my name remains "Joyce" and not "Suzette". He would always look at my new embroidery "creations", and would say "Very nice Joyce, very nice!" I miss that...

When he was a little "naughty", like when he discovered the security panic button, his mother and I would both "moan" at him and explain what the consequences would be if he ever pressed that button again. " It's hard to have 2 mothers", DH would say. Through the tears Fana would then say "I love you Joyce, I POMISE"

At other times, like a typical 3yr old, he would dance infront of the radio, not to mention the TV and if he saw me watching him, he would say "I'm busy, Joyce, I'm busy"...and stopped in his tracks, until I pretended not to look.

I always knew, the day would come when we had to say good-bye. That was just before Fana and his mother went on their 6 weeks Christmas holiday. I will not try to paint that picture for you!

His family decided it would be better for him to return to his roots, where he can at least learn his mother's tongue, Ndebele, instead of battling with English, Ndebele and Setswana(language of Botswana). Today he is a free child, playing with many other children, too busy to sleep during the day...and when he gets angry with them, he collects all his toys and puts them in a big box, untill he decides it's Ok to take them out again. That includes the bicycle we bought him on the photo's.

But it is a different life back in Zimbabwe; solar panels provide light, but food are cooked on a fire...wood has to be sourced. Water has to be fetched from the river and boiled in order to wash, unless you are brave enough to take a cold wash. If the family can manage to buy petrol, they can at times start a generator...then they charge the cell phone and if they are lucky, can watch the odd TV program. No fridges...For 2 days Fana's grandmother did not answer her cell, in the heat, she was busy removing weeds in the field...they planted about 2 months ago.

Tonight was the first time we reached Fana and his family...I spoke with him on the phone and told him I love him...the tears just keep rolling!