It is a day that blurs into the rest - nameless, timeless, and vaguely familiar – except for one thing. I must have been about 13/14 years old. Young enough to still be naive about and frightened by the hormonal murmurings that seemed to manifest themselves more and more frequently each day but, at the same time, starting to understand what caused them – the opposite sex. There were pre-MTV days but still we devoured whatever music videos we could get our hands on. In Maseru, Lesotho, an American man based there used to have someone record videos in the US and send them down. He booked a...