Dust devils of sharp sand and discarded plastic whipped about under the Lusakan summer sky. Fine grained, tawny-coloured dust caked the walls of one-room churches built with unpainted cinderblocks. The dust powdered the adults’ ashen faces and snuck into the craggy crevices of the children’s cracked lips. Burnt dirt from blown in from brush fires sprinkled black dust clouds on the roads and fanned the impoverished smell of charred rubber and melting plastic bags into the sauna-like heavy air....