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MY STORY AS A STORY-SELLER I had just been ejected from my step-brother’s one-bed-roomed-house in a small suburban compound by his mother. He is away on duty. Step-mother never wanted me to live with my step-brother anymore; for her own trivial reasons. With nowhere to go, no money to help me get anywhere at all, I wandered around Mansa town with my Olympic bag containing a small blanket and a few clothes. No food for at least forty-eight hours. This was sometime in October 1986.Out of desperation for survival, I agreed to take a position of waiter at Mansa Inn, advertised through the department of Labour. Visiting Bangweulu Wetlands -Chiunda Ponde Little did I realize that I was kick-starting a long and enjoyable sales career. I had just struggled to complete my Grade twelve a year ago with no hope for any sponsorship to enter college. I trekked all the way from Muwele Village in Chief Chiunda Ponde in Lavushi Manda district to come and join my step-brother, a United