Rats lie dead on the road as the children play around the rubbish dumped unceremoniously at the corner and women cook on the side of the pavements. Empty buildings pockmark the city, many deserted by would-be investors after independence. Walking near the train station, the streets are deserted, buildings are crumbling and locals endure the presence of drug-dealers, prostitutes and pimps on a daily basis. Nearby, bridal parties pick their way over rubbish to take photographs in a park overgrown with grass and reeking of urine. Eating lunch in a terrace cafe, children selling plastic packets of cashew nuts pass by pleadingly.
Waiters have holes in their shirts and tears in their trousers.
Real poverty is also evident in the rural areas. There is at least a 67 per cent illiteracy rate and the country has the highest level of infant mortality in southern Africa. Dependency on international aid remains dangerously high, accounting for over 70 per cent of GDP and over 50 per cent of the government's budget. And yet, coming from South Africa, the country is wonderfully refreshing. Black and white mix with an ease which would be remarkable anywhere.