Once upon a time while I sat in a trotro (public transportation van), I saw a woman waiting while her coconut was being opened. The setup was typical: a flat-board on four-wheels with green coconuts arrayed on top of it, a large umbrella overhead to keep out the inspecting sun, and a young man hacking skilfully away at the husk on the top part of a coconut. What grabbed attention was the woman standing on the other side of the wheeler. Her face. Her expression. Her mind.

She peered at the coco...