Dirty, Not Very Sexy Money

 

Cleared out my bedside table of five years of spare cash. There are torn notes from Ethiopia, Chad, Uganda and Tanzania. Smart colourful ones from Botswana, South Africa and Ghana. Assorted handfuls from Liberia, Sudan, Mozambique, Rwanda and the DRC. Then there is the fun stuff from holidays – India, the UAE and plastic bills from Mexico. Most of it is worthless. A couple of pounds. The only thing worth anything at all, is a couple of hundred US dollars.

All of it bore the grime of countless dirty fingers and it stank – smelling much like an old shirt worn too many times, never washed and left stuffed in a drawer. Not nice.