Jubilant greetings to you, Celestino! How is the atmospheric pressure in your corner? 

 Laikipia

‘I am old and cannot work again,’ said Celestino. ‘But you are 46 and we have many years to go.’ ‘No. Working for you has made me blind.’ ‘We went over that and the optician said you need reading glasses because you are in your forties…’ He shakes his head: ‘I’m never going to have another job. I’m going home to grow my sugarcane.’ And so the man who appeared at my door without shoes 23 years ago is on his way. Named after one of only two popes to have resigned, Celestino held the fort for me while I went off to Rwanda, Somalia and the Balkans. He couldn’t boil an egg — he once declared eating too many eggs gave one influenza — but he could mix a wicked bloody Mary. He stood by me when my father died and at my wedding. Ten years ago, we carved a farm out of virgin bush together.