One day, when Sweetpea was about four years old, she asked me what a refugee is. (Her preschool had been collecting donations for a refugee camp nearby.)
"Well," I said "It's someone who can't live in their own country anymore, because its not safe, or because they don't have food or water."
"So, a refugee is like the people who come here from Zimbabwe, then?" she queried. (I was more than a little surprised, I had no idea that she even knew what Zimbabwe was, much less that we had refugees arriving here from Zim on a daily basis.)
"Yes, that's right. We have lots of refugees from Zimbabwe living here."
She thought for a moment.
"So, there's no-one left in Zimbabwe now, is there, Mommy?"
"Actually," I replied "There are still lots of people living there."
She was plainly exasperated by this reply, and scrunched up her little nose in frustration. "Well, that stupid of them! They should all leave!"
I smiled, and said "It's not as simple as that. You have to have money to be able to leave, and it means that you would have to leave your family and all your things behind. Not everyone can do that, and many people don't want to."
She snorted in disgust. "Well! Then they should get rid of their President!"