M'e Mangaka

She earns her living cleaning the houses of professors at the University of Lesotho, and on weekends she's a highly-respected elder, an officer in the Society of St. Anne. Members of the Society wear black dresses with purple capes on Sundays; they lead the hymns at the local Roman Catholic church; and once every year or two they go on retreats together, which is the closest thing M'e Mangaka has ever known to a vacation.

She has recently survived the deaths of her husband, her son, and one daughter. One daughter remains and is the joy of her life. She has great hopes her daughter will be successful in her upcoming exams and will be able to attend the university herself. "If she does that," M'e Mangaka tells me, "she will find a way out of this..." she gestures to the sink where she washes her employers' clothes by hand. There isn't a washing machine in the whole town where the University is located, and M'e Mangaka's knuckles are rough with callouses.

M'e Mangaka was the best friend of my daughter Manko's birth-mother. She listens to every word I tell about Manko and her career in the U.S. Army. "She got out," she says, with tears in her eyes. "Her mama would be so proud, so proud."