Charles sells the lottery in a small village just outside Bolgatanga, in the north of Ghana. I’d stopped in the village to get a sachet of water, and he came out of his small red, yellow and green shack/booth to greet me. I could barely understand his English, but he was very gracious. From what I could gather, he’d lived in the village all his life, and used to be a farmer. I asked him his age, but couldn’t decipher his answer – but he definitely doesn’t feel as old as he is.