Clifford is my driver. He is the best looking of all of the drivers. My first driver, Buba, was the second best looking driver, but he was no fun. You know how that goes.
Clifford fancies himself a Malawian gangsta rapper. He loves to have his picture taken in gangsta wrapper poses in beautiful places throughout Malawi. I have to admit that he pulls it off. Clifford is 28 yeqrs old, not married and has no children, unusual for Malawi. On the many job applications he has submitted, since the Medicins sans frontieres job is time limited, he says that he is a married man because the unmarried don't stand a chance of employment.
Clifford comes from a family of seven siblings. He's somewhere in the middle. He is also the only one of the remaining siblings, his older sister died of AIDS leaving behind an orphan, who has even remotely regular employment. I must say that he is a damn good driver in a country where there is only modest regulation and that which exists is only to collect revenue for the state. Driving is a formidable task here in Malawi and he is a natural.
At one point Clifford confessed to me that his dream is to open an orphanage, take in all of the children and take care of them. His nephew is head over heels in love with Clifford. There is no doubt that he is quite a charming person and a responsible one, as well. He says he doesn't feel comfortable marrying before he has saved enough money to support a wife. Secretly, I think he really enjoys his freedom and has no intention of ever marrying. All of the other drivers I've met are married, most of them begrudgingly (eg, Buba: I married too young. All my wife does is complain, but I call her everyday. I don't want this driving job to end.)
Clifford and I have the best time driving around the country together. I tell him tales of New York and he tries (in vain) to teach me more than the basics in Chichewa (my vocabulary is eclectic: rainbow, tomato, witchdoctor). We've driven off in many sunsets together.
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