The back wall of our compound was leaning dangerously. The landlord told us that he was going to have it replaced, but “replaced” is such a tame word for the working frenzy that ensued.
12 men entered our compound a week ago and tore the wall down by hand. Each brick was carefully separated from the mortar and neatly stacked. The glass bottle shards along the top of the wall were likewise loosened and placed in a pile. The crumbled mortar and other unusable bits were hauled out in sacks and dumped in the road in front of our house. Everybody kept an eye out to make sure the neighbor’s hen and chicks didn’t jump down into our compound and meet our dog.
This picture was taken at the end of the first day.
It only took them three days to get everything reassembled. Two men with shovels mixed bags of concrete with water directly on the ground while everybody else worked from the ends to brick up the wall. Theo even donated all the empty glass bottles that we’ve thrown away in the last year to help make the top of the new wall even more menacing than it was before.
Now we are again safe from marauding chickens.
And please ignore the satellite dish looming behind the water tanks. It is a relic from a previous occupant of the house. It has no effect on the entertainment offered in our house.