The first thing that really caught my eye in Swaziland was a box of condoms. I had flown into Johannesburg that morning, hopped on a minibus headed to the Swazi capital, Mbabane, a four hour drive eastward. As we approached the South African – Swazi border, the bus began climbing steadily and finally stopped at the crossing that was nestled in a low mountain pass. We were instructed to disembark to present our documentation to the immigration officials.
The driver led us into a low-slung building where we queued up at a window, handing over our passports to be stamped one by one. It didn’t take long. I hardly had time to read the few posters on the wall reminding one and all of the deleterious effects of graft and corruption on the Kingdom. When my turn came and I approached the window, there it was on the shelf in front of me – a big box of condoms free for the taking.