Taking care of cattle requires common sense and a strong spine. The herdsmen use these animals for many purposes and a whip or a stick is always in hand. After all, the herd is often their livelihood and a measure of worldly wealth.
By contrast, some residents along the road appear to be idle. Indeed, when I stroll into town to buy a beverage, I often attract a local or two who is clearly in his cups and wants me to shout him a beer. One such fellow approached me yesterday and tried to express his desire in a garbled message. His shirt, if you can read the message, is humourous.
I explained to him that a group of foreign cyclists was camping nearby at a school ground. Sure enough, he showed up just as the awards for moustache March were being granted to me who had attempted to grow facial hair that met the award criteria. The prizes for these satirical awards were hooch, of the distinctly cheap variety. Guess who ended up with the grog? Yes, our responsible Zambian citizen.