South of the Equator, rains come in the morning. In terms of living in Africa, truly living, I've been in a very narrow band on either side of the Equator, but on the mirrored side from here (Mvangan), my favorite thing was the sound of rain on the tin eaves at night, going to sleep to that. Morning rains were rarer, but they at least delayed going to work -- and meetings would either happen on time, happen hours late, or not happen at all. I wasn't a doctor, then. The plan tonight was for a bonfire/ effigy burning in honor of Guy Fawkes day--though there's one English volunteer in this post, we've decided to celebrate everyone's holidays. The rain makes it a little more difficult today.
Rains in the morning. Rainy season that was supposed to start a month ago, (also by the internal calendar I keep by heart from Cameroon -- from January, dry season, small dry season, small rainy season, rainy season). Precise dates over decades and centuries governing planting, harvesting, and when that changes (global climate change), you don't know when to plant, it might be too early or too late, and the crop might either exist less, the same, or be destroyed. Nearer to here, insecurity during the (north of the Tropic of Cancer) summer, meant that people fled their villages, are returning slowly, and will not be able to plant this year, or partially, or not at all, or because of the delayed rains it will be okay.