Ned Ludd and Poor Africans
Sitting and drinking Coca Cola in a cafe on a fine April Saturday evening, watching live Premier League football, there was a moment of forgetfulness. Getting into the car and heading out into the traffic, progress was slow as it began to get dark; the fact it was Saturday didn’t appear to make much difference to the number of people going somewhere. It was when the edge of the city was reached that the realities of the place returned. Bicycles laden with fruit, vegetables and assorted household goods frequently had …