Splashing in the water, gliding through it, soaking up the sun afterwards, swimming is good fun….unless you’re eight years old and you’re doing it in a raging river. It is fun, but risky fun, no life guard, no chlorine and you’re liable to lose your clothing to friends with sticky fingers, to slide on a slippery rock and get a contusion, or catch a beating from your parents for trying to have fun.
We called it ‘doof mpararo’, aptly named after the sounds you make when dipping into water, and the effect it had on your skin if you don’t moisturize, an ashy appearance that sells you out. It quickly became our favourite pastime after we learnt to swim in school but couldn’t afford the weekend charges at a local swimming pool.