The young African women were strong on the shores of Makoma Dam, and in fact they were far cheekier than the men. They always had a shrill whooping banter that showed their light-hearted independence. When they got to know me, although we never spoke – I never really spoke to anyone on the ‘far side’ of the dam – they would whoop and wave. Some would run onto dry land, and with one foot swivelling on the spot they would, with a repeated flick of the hips, use their swaying behinds to manoeuvre the other foot round in a circular movement. They would stop, look at me, continue the swivelling movement in feigned concentrative silence and then burst into an uproarious cackle, and clap and whoop before splashing back into the water. All of them would then be reduced to a gaggle of thigh-slapping mirth.
Allan Taylor, author Luanshya musings