I live in Rwanda. Yesterday I spoke to a Rwandan, an indigenous inhabitant of the country’s capital city of Kigali, a couple of kilometers from my home. My uncle in 50 years.

He says:

When I was a kid, Kigali was smaller, three streets and all. In the place where we were sitting, there was a forest. Here, the antilopes were grazing in abundance. And the leopard ate my uncle.

I was genuinely pleased to live in Kigali now, not in the 1960s. I would not have been able to write on the internet then, because it has not yet been invented. And probably a leopard would eat me, because I run slowly.