PENGUIN R EA D E R S

mit 3 CDs
Tears of the Giraffe
Alexander McCall Smith
 ACf, W fcu

Tears of the Giraffe

ALEXANDER McCALL SMITH

Level 4

R eto ld by Jo h n P otter
Series Editors: A ndy H opkins and Jocelyn P otter

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ISBN: 978-1-4058-6777-1

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 Contents
page
Introduction V

C hapter 1 M r JLB M atekoni’s House 1

C hapter 2 T he Boy w ith an African H eart 7

C hapter 3 T he O rp h an Farm 10

C hapter 4 T he C o m m une 15

C hapter 5 T he C h ildren’s Story 19

C hapter 6 M m a M akutsi’s P rom otion 24

C hapter 7 M r B adule’s W ife 28

C hapter 8 A Trip into Tow n 34

C hapter 9 T he Bad M aid 37

C hapter 10 Family 43

C hapter 11 O swald R anta 48

C hapter 12 At T lokw eng R o ad Speedy M otors 55

C hapter 13 M ichael C u rtin 57

C hapter 14 Bulawayo 64

Activities 71
 Introduction

W hat could she do fo r this woman, i f the Botswana Police and the
American Embassy had tried and failed? B u t the woman needed help,
and if she could not get help from the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency,
then where could she get it?

Precious R am otsw e, a wise and kind w om an w ith a good sense

o f hum our, is the first female private detective in Botsw ana. H er
agency, T h e N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency, has helped m any
people w ith their problem s — stolen cars, m issing relatives and
lying husbands and wives.
Mma* R am otsw e has a traditional love o f her country and
her family. H er size is traditional too —she is a large lady. H er
favourite d rin k is red bush tea, w hich she always drinks w ith her
clients. She solves their problem s w ith hard w ork, intelligence
and an ability to k n ow w hen people are telling the truth.
H er office is in a small building in G aborone, the capital o f
Botswana. It contains tw o desks, three chairs, an old typew riter
and an old teapot w hich her secretary, M m a M akutsi, uses to
make the bush tea. Som etim es there are also chickens.
M m a R am otsw e drives a little w hite van, w hich often
breaks dow n. T h at is how she m et her good friend M r JLB
M atekoni, the best m echanic in Botsw ana. A fter a bad m arriage
to a musician, M m a R am otsw e is single again, and M r JLB
M atekoni has ju st asked her to m arry him .
In Tears o f the Giraffe , M m a R am otsw e accepts the difficult
- and possibly dangerous — case o f a m issing child. H er clever
secretary, M m a M akutsi, finds that she has to do m ore than

* M ma: Mrs o r Madam in Setswana, the language spoken by m ost people in

Botswana

V
make bush tea. A nd M r JLB M atekoni suddenly has to take care
o f m ore than broken vans.

Alexander M cC all Smith, like his character M m a R am otsw e,

has had an interesting life. H e was born in Zim babw e, and w ent
to school there and in Scotland. H e taught law at a university in
Scotland, and returned to Africa to start a new law school at the
U niversity o f Botswana. H e now lives in Edinburgh, Scotland.
H e has w ritten m ore than sixty books, including books about
law, books o f short stories, m ystery stories and children’s books.
His fiction is full o f hum our and w onderful characters.
But his most popular books are the ones about M m a
R am otsw e. These books have been translated into th irty -n in e
languages and have sold over fourteen m illion copies around
the world. T he first o f these books, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective
Agency , tells readers how M m a R am otsw e began the agency and
how she solved her first cases. It is also a P enguin R eader. T here
are now eight books about M m a R am otsw e and her friends.
These stories have m ade people everyw here interested in her
beautiful country, Botswana. It is a small country, w ith fewer
than tw o m illion people. M ost o f it is covered by the K alahari
Desert, but it is also hom e to m any different sorts o f anim als and
birds, w hich visitors come to see.
Like most other African countries, for m any years Botsw ana
was controlled by Europeans. B ritain governed Botsw ana from
1885 until 1966, w hen Botsw ana becam e independent.
B otsw ana has been called an African success story. T he
schools are good and the econom y is grow ing. Gaborone, M m a
R am o tsw e’s hom e, is the fastest-grow ing city in Africa. But
there are problems, too. M any people in the country suffer
from AIDS*. T here is m ore crim e than before. At the same

* AIDS: a very serious disease that often causes death

tim e, traditional A frican ways o f life are disappearing, and new
buildings and lifestyles are taking their place.
M m a R am otsw e and her friend M r JLB M atekoni are proud
o f m odern Botsw ana, but they miss the old ways and try to live
by traditional values.
T he m ain characters take their duty o f responsibility for
other people seriously. T hey learn that they have to keep their
promises, although it is not always easy to do that. T hey have
to m ake difficult decisions that affect the lives o f other people.
M cC all Sm ith shows that the w orld w ould be a better place if
we all took m ore responsibility for the people around us.
Africa is not ju st the background o f Tears o f the Giraffe. It is an
im portant part o f the story. It is easy to share M cC all S m ith’s
love o f Africa w hen we read his descriptions o f the land, its
people and its animals. For readers w ho have never been to
Africa, these descriptions are some o f the m ost w onderful parts
o f the book.
Each o f the m ain characters in Tears o f a Giraffe tells a piece o f
the story from his or her ow n point o f view. This makes the story
interesting and allows us to know the characters well —the bad
ones as well as the good ones.

W h en you finish reading Tears o f a Giraffe, you w ill probably

w ant to read more. If you have already read The No. 1 Ladies’
Detective Agency, then look for the other books about M m a
R am otsw e and her friends.
 ZAMMA
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 ELEFANTA ENGLISHTIPS.ORG

C hapter 1 Mr JLB M atek on i’s H ou se

M r JLB M atekoni was the ow ner o f Tlokweng R oad Speedy

Motors, a garage in Gaborone, the capital ofBotswana. He had asked
Precious Ram otswe, the only lady private detective in Gaborone,
to m arry him and, to his great surprise, she had agreed.
It was the second tim e M r JLB M atekoni had asked her.
Mma* R am otsw e had refused the first time. Probably she
w ould never m arry again, he had thought. H er first m arriage,
to a m usician nam ed N ote M okoti, had been a disaster. She
was an independent w om an now, w ith her ow n business, the
N o J 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency. She lived in a com fortable
house in Zebra Drive. M en could be difficult to m anage, M r
JLB M atekoni thought, so w hy w ould she w ant to marry?
B ut one evening, after he had fixed her little w hite van, M m a
R am otsw e had said yes. She had given her answer in such a
simple, kind way that M r JLB M atekoni was sure she was one
o f the very best w om en in Botswana. H e returned hom e that
evening and thought, ‘I am over forty years old. U ntil now I
have not been able to find a wife. I am so fortunate that I must
be dream ing.’
But it was true. T he next m orning he knew that it had really
happened. Unless she had changed her m ind during the night,
he was engaged to be m arried.
He looked at his watch. It was six o ’clock, and the first light
o f the day was on the tree outside his bedroom window . It
w ould be best to w ait an hour or m ore before he telephoned
M m a R am otsw e. It w ould give her tim e to get up and m ake her
m o rning cup o f tea.

* M m a: Mrs o r Madam in Setswana, the language spoken by m ost people in

Botswana
t N o . : short for number

1
 H e telephoned shortly before seven. M m a R am otsw e asked
politely w hether he had slept well.
‘I slept very well,’ said M r JLB Matekoni. ‘I dreamed all night
about a clever and beautiful wom an who has agreed to m arry me.’
H e paused. If she had changed her m ind, then this was the
tim e that she m ight tell him .
M m a R am otsw e laughed. ‘I never rem em ber my dreams.
But if I did, I am sure that I w ould rem em ber dream ing about
that excellent m echanic, my future husband.’
M r JLB M atekoni smiled. She had not changed her m ind.
‘Today we m ust go to the President H otel for lunch,’ he said,
‘W e shall celebrate this im portant m atter.’
M m a R am otsw e agreed. She said she w ould be ready at
twelve o ’clock. A fterwards, perhaps he w ould allow her to visit
his house so she could see w hat it was like. T here were tw o
houses now, and they w ould have to choose one. H er house on
Zebra D rive had m any good qualities, but it was rather close to
the centre o f tow n. His house was near the old airport. It had a
large garden and was quiet, but it was not far from the prison.

A fter their celebration lunch in the President H otel, they drove

off in M r JLB M atekoni’s pick-up truck to see his house.
‘It is not a very tidy house,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘I have a
m aid but she makes it worse, I think. A nd some room s in this
house have engine parts in them .’
M m a R am otsw e said nothing. N ow she knew w hy M r JLB
M atekoni had never invited her to the house before.
T hey arrived and M m a R am otsw e sat in the pick-up w hile
M r JLB M atekoni opened the gate. She noted pieces o f paper
and other rubbish in the garden. If she m oved here — i f — that
w ould soon change. She w ould not w ant people to th in k that
she allowed her garden to look like that.

2
 T hey entered the house and M m a R am otsw e looked around
her. T hey were in the living room . T he furniture was old but
good, and on the wall there was a painting o f a m ountain and a
small picture o f N elson M andela.
‘This is a very fine room ,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
M r JLB M atekoni looked pleased. ‘I try to keep this room
tidy,’ he said. ‘It is a special room for im portant visitors.’
‘D o you have m any im portant visitors?’ asked M m a
R am otsw e.
‘T here have been none until now,’ he said, ‘but it is always
possible.’
‘Yes,’ agreed M m a R am otsw e. ‘O ne never know s.’
She looked over her shoulder, towards a door that led into the
rest o f the house.
‘T he other room s are that way?’ she asked politely.
‘T hat is the n o t-so -tid y part o f the house,’ said M r JLB
M atekoni. ‘Perhaps we should look at it some other tim e.’
M m a R am otsw e shook her head and M r JLB M atekoni
realised that there could be no secrets in a m arriage.
‘This way,’ he said. ‘Really, I m ust get a better m aid.’
M m a R am otsw e followed him . T hey came to a room w ith
its floor covered in newspapers. In the m iddle o f the floor there
was an engine. A round the engine w ere parts that had been
taken from it.
‘This is a very special engine,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘O ne
day I shall finish fixing it.’
T he bathroom was clean but very plain. There was a large bar
o f carbolic soap on the edge o f the bath.
‘Carbolic soap is very good for health,’ said M r JLB M atekoni.
‘I have always used it.’
T he dining room had a table and one chair, but its floor was
dirty. T here were piles o f dust under the furniture and in each
corner.

3
 ‘W h at does the m aid do?’ w ondered M m a R am otsw e.
‘T he m aid cooks for m e,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘She makes
a meal each day, and it is always the same meal. But she always
seems to need a lot o f m oney to buy food and kitchen things.’
‘She is very lazy,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘If all the w om en in
Botsw ana were like her, there w ould be no m en left alive.’
M r JLB M atekoni smiled. He was not brave enough to get rid
o f his maid, but now she w ould have to face M m a R am otsw e.
T hey were sitting in the living room w hen they heard a
noise.
‘T hat is the m aid,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘She always closes
the kitchen door very loudly w hen she arrives.’
‘Let’s go and see her,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I w ant to m eet
this lady.’
M r JLB M atekoni led the way into the kitchen. A tall w om an
stood in front o f the kitchen sink, filling a pot w ith water. She
was th in n er than M m a R am otsw e, but she looked stronger. M r
JLB M atekoni cleared his throat and the w om an tu rn ed round
slowly.
‘I am busy ...’ she started to say, but stopped w hen she saw
M m a R am otsw e.
M r JLB M atekoni greeted her politely and introduced his
guest.
‘Florence, this is M m a R am otsw e,’ he said.
‘I am glad to m eet you, M m a,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I have
heard about you from M r JLB M atekoni.’
‘I am glad that he speaks o f m e,’ said the maid. ‘But I am very
busy. T here is m uch to do in this house.’
‘Yes, a d irty house like this needs a lot o f w ork,’ said M m a
R am otsw e.
T he m aid looked offended. ‘W hy do you say this house is
dirty?’ she asked.
‘Because I have seen it,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I have seen

4
‘W h y do you say this house is dirty?’
the dust in the d ining room and the rubbish in the garden.’
T he m aid ’s eyes opened wide. ‘W h o is this w om an?’ she
asked M r JLB M atekoni angrily. ‘W hy is she com ing into my
kitchen and saying things like this?’
M r JLB M atekoni looked nervous. ‘I have asked her to m arry
m e,’ he said.
‘A lee? cried the maid. ‘You cannot m arry her! She w ill kill
you!’
M r JLB M atekoni put his hand on the m aid ’s shoulder. ‘D o
not w orry, Florence. M m a R am otsw e is a good w om an, and I
w ill help you get another job. M y cousin has a hotel near the bus
station. H e needs maids and he can give you a jo b .’
‘I do not w ant to w ork in a hotel,’ said the maid. ‘I am a high-
class m aid w ho works in private houses. O h, oh! I am finished
now. If you m arry this fat w om an, you are finished too. She w ill
break your bed and you w ill die very quickly.’
M r JLB M atekoni was embarrassed by the m aid ’s words. H e
w ould speak to his cousin as soon as possible, he thought. H e
and M m a R am otsw e w ent back to the living room and closed
the door behind them .
‘Your m aid is a difficult w om an,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘She is not easy,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘But I th in k we have
no choice. She must go to that other jo b .’
M m a R am otsw e agreed. T he maid must go. But she knew
that they could not live in this house, either. They would rent
it to someone and live in her house in Zebra Drive. H er maid
was m uch better than his and she w ould take good care o f M r
JLB M atekoni. But she had to be careful not to offend him . She
would explain that her house was very convenient for the centre
o f tow n. T hat is w hat she w ould say. She looked round the room.
Was there anything they needed to move from this house to hers?
The answer, she thought, was probably no. M r JLB M atekoni
needed only his clothes and his carbolic soap. T hat was all.
 Chapter 2 T h e B o y w ith an A frican H eart

O n M onday m orning, M m a R am otsw e opened the N o. 1

Ladies’ D etective Agency. T he sign outside the agency said that
the opening hours were nine to five, and M m a R am otsw e felt
that it was im portant to keep promises. Actually, clients came
only in the late m o rn ing or afternoon. M m a R am otsw e was
not sure why. Perhaps it took tim e for people to becom e brave
enough to enter her door and tell her their problems.
So M m a R am otsw e sat w ith her secretary, M m a M akutsi, and
drank the large cup o f bush tea* that M m a M akutsi m ade every
m orning. She did not really need a secretary, but M m a M akutsi,
w ho had received top marks in her secretarial exam inations,
was friendly and loyal. M ost im portant o f all, she could keep
a secret. M m a R am otsw e had found this pleasantly surprising,
since most people in Botsw ana like to talk.
T hey were not busy that m orning. M m a M akutsi cleaned her
typew riter and M m a R am otsw e w rote a letter to her cousin in
Lobatse. By twelve o ’clock she was ready to close the agency for
lunch w hen her secretary suddenly put a piece o f paper into her
typew riter and began typing quickly. This m eant that a client
had arrived.
A th in w hite w om an stepped out o f a large car in front o f
the agency. M m a M akutsi let her into the office, and M m a
R am otsw e stood up to welcom e her.
‘I’m sorry, I haven’t got an appointm ent,’ said the w om an.
‘You don’t need one,’ said M m a R am otsw e, reaching out to
shake her hand.
T he w om an took her hand in the correct Botsw ana way,
M m a R am otsw e noted. She had learned som ething about how
to behave.

* bush tea: a South A frican tea m ade from red leaves

7
 ‘I’m M rs A ndrea C u rtin ,’ said the w om an as she sat dow n.
‘T he Am erican Embassy said you m ight be able to help m e.’
M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘I am glad they suggested me. W hat
do you need?’
‘I’m try in g to find out w hat happened to my son, ten years
ago,’ said M rs C u rtin . ‘I don’t th in k he is alive but I w ant to
know w hat happened.’
For a few m om ents there was a silence. T hen M m a R am otsw e
said, ‘I am very sorry. I know w hat it is like to lose a child. I lost
my baby. H e did not live.’
M rs C u rtin looked dow n. ‘T hen you know ,’ she said.
M m a M akutsi brought tw o cups o f bush tea. M rs C u rtin
took her cup gratefully.
‘I should tell you about myself,’ she said. ‘If you can help me,
I w ill be very pleased. If not, I w ill understand.’
‘I cannot help everybody,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I w ill tell
you if I can help.’
M rs C u rtin began her story.

I came to Africa twelve years ago. M y husband, Jack, w orked for

the W orld B ank and they gave him a jo b in Africa for tw o years.
W e came w ith our son M ichael, w ho was eighteen. H e had
planned to go to college, but we decided that he could spend a
year w ith us in Africa first.
T he B ank put us in a house w ith a beautiful garden in
Gaborone. M ichael was like a child w ith a new toy. H e got
up early in the m o rn in g and w alked around in the bush before
breakfast. I w ent w ith him once or twice. H e knew the names
o f all the anim als we saw. W e w atched the sun come up on the
edge o f the K alahari Desert and felt its w arm th.
I had never been happier in m y life. W e had found a country
w here the people had a w onderful feeling for others. W h en I
first heard African people calling each other their brother or
sister, it sounded odd to me. B ut I soon knew w hat they meant.
O ne day som ebody called me her sister and I started to cry.
M ichael started to study Setswana and he m ade good progress.
His teacher said to me, ‘Your son has got an A frican heart. I am
only teaching that heart to speak.’
After a few m onths, M ichael began to spend tim e w ith a
group o f people w ho lived on an old farm outside M olepolole.
I suppose you could call it a com m une. T here was a girl from
South Africa, a G erm an m an nam ed B urkhardt, and some local
people. They w ere all very serious about grow ing vegetables in
dry ground. T hey sold their vegetables to hotels and hospitals
in Gaborone.
O ne day Michael told me he w anted to live w ith them . At
first I was worried, but I knew it was im portant for Michael. So I
drove him to the farm one Sunday afternoon and left him there.
T he farm was only an hour away and they came to Gaborone
every day to sell or buy things, so we saw M ichael often. He
seemed so happy.
W hen it was tim e for M ichael to retu rn to Am erica for college,
he said he did not w ant to go. H e w anted to stay in Botsw ana
for another year. I was upset at first. But Jack and I talked about
it and decided to accept w hat M ichael w anted. ‘H e ’s doing good
w ork,’ Jack said. ‘M ost young people are completely selfish, but
Michael isn’t.’ I had to agree.
So M ichael stayed w here he was, and w hen it was tim e for us
to leave Botsw ana, he refused to go w ith us. I was not surprised.
The farm was grow ing. It gave w ork to tw enty families. A nd
Michael was now in love w ith the South A frican w om an.
M ichael w rote to us every week. T hen, one week, the letter
did not arrive, and a day or tw o later there was a call from the
Am erican Embassy in Botswana. M y son was missing. I came
back to Botswana im m ediately and a m an from the Embassy

9
m et me at the airport. He said that B urkhardt had told the police
that M ichael had disappeared one evening after supper.
I w ent to the farm on the day I arrived. B urkhardt said he was
sure M ichael w ould appear soon. T he South African w om an
had no idea w here M ichael was. She did not seem to like me.
N either o f them could im agine w hy M ichael w ould disappear.
I stayed for four weeks. W e put a notice in the newspapers
and offered a rew ard for inform ation about my son. A game
tracker searched for him for tw o weeks. W e found nothing.
M ost people decided that M ichael had either been killed by
robbers or taken by w ild animals.
Six m onths ago Jack died and I decided to try one m ore time.
I know it was ten years ago. I do not th in k I w ill find Michael.
But I w ant to know w hat happened. I w ould like to be able
to say goodbye. W ill you help me, M m a R am otsw e? You say
that you lost your child. You know how I feel, don’t you? It is a
sadness that never goes away.

For a few m inutes after M rs C u rtin had finished her story, M m a

R am otsw e sat in silence. W h at could she do for this w om an, if
the Botsw ana Police and the A m erican Embassy had failed? But
the w om an needed help, and if she could not get help from the
No. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency, then w here could she get it?
‘I w ill help you,’ she said, and added, ‘my sister.’

ELEFANTA ENGLISHTIPS.ORG
C hapter 3 T h e O rphan Farm

M r JLB M atekoni looked out o f the w indow o f his office at

T lokw eng R o ad Speedy M otors. T he w indow looked into the
garage, w here his assistants w ere w orking on a car. They were
doing it the w rong way, he noticed, although he had show n

10
them the correct way m any times. O ne o f the assistants had
already had an accident w hile he was w orking on an engine. He
had almost lost a finger. But they still w orked in an unsafe way.
‘Young m en th in k they w ill never die. But they w ill find out
later,’ th o ught M r JLB M atekoni. ‘T hey w ill discover that they
are just like the rest o f us.’
T he assistants always had their lunch under a tree by the
road. T hey sat and ate and w atched the girls w alk past. M r JLB
M atekoni had heard w hat they said to the girls.
‘You’re a pretty girl! Have you got a car? I could fix your car.
I could m ake you go m uch faster!’
‘You’re too thin! You’re not eating enough meat! A girl like
you needs m ore m eat so she can have lots o f children!’
M r JLB M atekoni was shocked. H e had never behaved like
that w hen he was young. But this was the way that young m en
behaved now. You could not stop them . He had tried talking
to them about it. H e said that if they behaved badly, people
w ould th in k badly o f the garage. T hey had stared at him , not
understanding. T hey thought people could do w hatever they
wanted. T h at was the m odern way o f thinking.
M r JLB M atekoni looked at his diary. It was the day he always
w ent to the orphan farm. If he left im m ediately, he could be
back in tim e to check his young assistants’ w ork. T hey were
only doing simple w ork on tw o cars, but sometimes they liked
to make the car engines ru n too fast.
‘We are not supposed to m ake fast cars,’ he had told his
assistants. ‘O u r customers are not speedy types like you.’
‘T hen w hy are we called Speedy M otors?’ asked one assistant.
‘Because our work is speedy’, he answered. ‘O u r customers do
not have to w ait a long tim e.’
He drove to the orphan farm. H e enjoyed going there because
he liked to see the children, and he usually brought sweets for
them . But he also enjoyed seeing M m a Potokw ane, the w om an

11
w ho ran the orphan farm. She was an old family friend, and he
always fixed things at the farm for her. H e was not paid for this,
o f course. Everybody helped the orphan farm if they could.
H e arrived and parked under a tree. Several children had
already appeared, and w alked beside him on the way to the
farm ’s office.
‘Have you children been good?’ asked M r JLB M atekoni.
‘W e have been very good,’ said the oldest child. ‘W e are tired
now from all the good things we have been doing.’
M r JLB M atekoni laughed and gave them some sweets. Inside
the office he found M m a Potokw ane. She told him there was a
problem w ith the w ater pum p. T h en there was a short silence.
‘I hear that you have some news,’ she said. ‘I hear that you are
getting m arried.’
M r JLB M atekoni looked dow n at his shoes. H ow did she
know? It was the m aid, he thought. She had told another m aid
and now everybody knew.
‘I am m arry in g M m a R am otsw e,’ he began. ‘She ...’
‘She’s the detective lady, isn’t she?’ said M m a Potokw ane. ‘I
have heard about her. Y our life w ill be exciting. You w ill be
hiding and w atching people all the tim e.’
‘I am not going to be a detective,’ said M r JLB M atekoni.
‘T h at is M m a R am o tsw e’s business.’

A fter tea, M r JLB M atekoni w ent to fix the w ater pum p. It was
in a pum p-house by some trees. H e put dow n his tool box and
opened the pum p-house door carefully. Snakes liked m achines,
and he had often found them in places like this.
Inside the pum p-house, he inspected the engine that drove
the pum p. T he problem was that it was very old. H e could
change some o f the parts, but one day M m a Potokw ane w ould
have to buy a new one.

12
 T here was a noise behind him that surprised him . It sounded
like the sound o f a wheel that needed oil. T hen he saw it,
com ing out o f the bush: a wheelchair, in w hich a girl was sitting
and pushing herself
She greeted him politely, saying, ‘I hope you are well, Rra*.’
T hey shook hands in the correct way. ‘I hope my hands are
not too oily,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘I have been w orking on
the pum p.’
T he girl smiled. ‘I have brought you some water, R ra. M m a
Potokw ane said you m ight be thirsty.’
M r JLB M atekoni took the w ater gratefully and w atched the
girl as he drank. She was very young, about eleven or twelve,
and she had a pleasant, open face.
‘D o you live on the farm ?’ he asked.
‘I have been here about one year,’ she answered. ‘I am here
w ith my young brother. H e is only five.’
‘W here did you come from ?’
She looked dow n. ‘W e came from near Francistown. My
m other died five years ago, w hen I was seven.’
M r JLB M atekoni said nothing. M m a Potokw ane had told
him the stories o f some o f the orphans, and each tim e he felt a
pain in his heart.
In the old times there were no unw anted children; everybody
was cared for by somebody. But things were changing. N ow
there were orphans, especially because o f the disease that was
spreading th ro u g h Africa. Is this w hat had happened to the girl?
And why was she in a wheelchair?
‘Your chair is m aking a noise,’ he said. ‘Does it always do
that?’
T he girl shook her head. ‘It started a few weeks ago. I think
there is som ething w rong w ith it.’

Rra: Sir o r M r in Setswana

13
M r J L B M atekoni looked carefully at the wheels.
 M r JLB M atekoni looked carefully at the wheels. It was clear
that they needed oil.
‘I w ill lift you out,’ he said. ‘You can sit under the tree w hile
I fix your chair.’
He put the girl gently on the ground. T h en he tu rn ed the
chair upside dow n and put oil on the wheels. He tu rn ed the
chair over and pushed it to w here the girl was sitting.
‘You have been very kind, R ra ,’ she said. ‘I m ust go back
now, or the house m other w ill be w orried.’
She left, and M r JLB M atekoni continued his w ork on the
pum p. In an h o u r it was ready, but he knew the repair w ould not
last long. H ow w ould the farm get w ater if the pum p stopped
working?

Chapter 4 The C om m une

M m a R am otsw e sat in her office at the No. 1 Ladies’ D etective

Agency and exam ined the ring on her left hand. T he assistant
in Judgem ent Day Jewellers had w anted M r JLB M atekoni to
spend a lot o f pula* on an engagem ent ring w ith a m uch bigger
diam ond. But M m a R am otsw e was not interested in the size o f
the stone. A tear ran dow n her face as she thought o f the m an
she w ould marry. N obody had ever given her anything like that
ring before, she thought. H e w ould be a good husband for her
and she w ould try to be a good wife for him .
She shook her head and tu rn ed her thoughts to the day’s
business - M rs C u rtin ’s case. She did not really w ant to look
for the son. W h y look for inform ation about the past if it w ould
only bring unhappiness?
But since she had agreed to help, she should start at the

* pula: the m oney o f Botswana

15
beginning. This was the com m une w here B urkhardt and his
friends had started their farm. She probably w ould not discover
anything, but she m ight get a feeling for w hat had happened.
At least she knew w here to find the com m une. It was near
Silokwolela, a village in the west, not far from M olepolole. She
left early on Saturday m orning in her little w hite van. T here
was already a stream o f traffic, mostly people com ing into tow n
for shopping. But a few people were leaving tow n as well. M m a
R am otsw e slowed dow n. There was a w om an at the side o f the
road w aving her hand for a ride.
M m a R am otsw e stopped her van and called out, ‘W here are
you going, M m a?’
‘To Silokwolela,’ said the w om an, pointing dow n the road.
‘I am going there too. I can take you all the way.’
‘You are very kind, and I am very lucky,’ said the w om an.
As they travelled, M m a R am otsw e spoke w ith the w om an,
w ho was called M m a Tsbago. She knew a little about the farm.
People had thought it w ould be a success, but it had failed. M m a
Tsbago was not surprised at that. People often give up if things
are too difficult.
‘Is there som ebody in your village w ho can take me to the
farm ?’ asked M m a R am otsw e.
M m a Tsbago thought for a m om ent. ‘Yes, there is a friend o f
my uncle w ho had a jo b there.’
W h en they arrived at Silokwolela, M m a Tsbago took M m a
R am otsw e to a w ell-kept house on the edge o f the village. They
w aited at the gate w hile M m a Tsbago called out, ‘M m a Potsane,
I am here to see you!’
A small, round w om an came out and let them in.
M m a Tsbago explained to her w hy they were there.
‘Yes,’ said M m a Potsane, ‘my husband and I both w orked out
there. But then things w ent w rong. People stopped believing in
w hat they were doing, and w ent away.’

16
 ‘Was there an Am erican boy?’ asked M m a R am otsw e.
‘H e disappeared. T he police came and looked for him . His
m other came too, m any times. O ne tim e she brought a game
tracker. He was a little m an and he ran round like a dog. He
looked under stones and smelled the air, but he found no sign
that w ild animals had taken the boy.’
‘W h at do you th in k happened to him ?’ asked M m a
R am otsw e.
‘I th in k he was blow n away by the w ind and put dow n
som ewhere far away. M aybe in the m iddle o f the K alahari.’
M m a Tsbago looked at M m a R am otsw e, but M m a R am otsw e
looked straight ahead at M m a Potsane.
‘T hat is possible, M m a,’ she said. ‘C ould you take me out to
the farm? I can give you tw enty pula.’
‘O f course,’ said M m a Potsane. ‘I do not like to go there at
night, but in the day it is different.’
M m a Tsbago w ent to her hom e, and M m a R am otsw e and
M m a Potsane left the village in the little w hite van. T he dirt
road was rough and M m a R am otsw e had to drive slowly.
T he road ended, and M m a R am otsw e stopped the van under
a tree. T here had probably been eleven or twelve houses at one
tim e, but now most o f them had fallen dow n. She and M m a
Potsane w alked to the m ain farm house. It still had a ro o f and
doors, and glass in some o f the window s.
‘T hat is w here the G erm an lived, and the A m erican and the
South A frican w om an,’ said M m a Potsane.
‘I should like to go inside,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
T hey entered the house, feeling the cooler air.
‘You see, there is n o thing here,’ said M m a Potsane.
M m a R am otsw e was not listening. She was studying a piece
o f yellow ing paper w hich had been pinned to a wall. It was a
newspaper photograph — a picture o f some people standing in
front o f a building.

17
 She pointed to one o f the people in the photograph. ‘W h o is
this m an, M m a?’ she asked.
M m a Potsane looked closely at the photograph. ‘I rem em ber
him . He w orked here too. He came from Francistown. His father
was a schoolteacher and this one, the son, was very clever. He was
friendly w ith the American, but the G erm an didn’t like him .’
M m a R am otsw e gently put the photograph into her pocket.
T hey w ent th ro u g h the other room s o f the house. Some o f them
had no roofs, and the floors were covered w ith leaves. It was an
em pty house - except for the photograph.
M m a Potsane was pleased to leave the house, and showed M m a
R am otsw e the place where they had grow n vegetables. T he land
had become w ild again. All the w ooden fences had been eaten by
the ants. O nly the ditches were left, old and unused.
‘All that w ork,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘A nd now this.’
‘But this always happens,’ said M m a Potsane. ‘Even in
Gaborone. H ow do we know that G aborone w ill still be here
fifty years from now? Perhaps the ants have plans for G aborone
as w ell.’
M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘W ill the N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective
Agency be rem em bered tw enty years from now ?’ she w ondered.
‘O r T lokw eng R o ad Speedy M otors?’ Probably not, she decided,
but was that very im portant?
She had com e here for inform ation about som ething that had
happened m any years ago, and she had found nothing, or almost
nothing. It seemed that the w ind had blow n everything away.
She tu rn ed to M m a Potsane.
‘W here does the w ind come from , M m a?’ she asked.
‘O ver there,’ M m a Potsane said, pointing to the trees and the
em pty sky, to the Kalahari. ‘O ver there.’
M m a R am otsw e said nothing. She felt that she was very close
to understanding w hat had happened, but she did not know
why.

18
 C hapter 5 T h e C hild ren ’s Story

O n the day that M m a R am otsw e travelled to Silokwolela,

M r JLB M atekoni felt uncom fortable. H e usually m et M m a
R am otsw e on Saturday m ornings to help her w ith shopping or
w ork around her house. W ithout her, G aborone seemed empty.
H e decided he w ould visit M m a Potokw ane at the orphan farm
again. She was always happy to sit dow n and talk about things
over a cup o f tea.
M m a Potokw ane greeted him as he parked his car.
‘I am very glad that you came today,’ said M m a Potokw ane.
‘I was going to phone you.’
‘Is it your car? O r the w ater pum p?’ asked M r JLB
M atekoni.
‘T he pum p. It is m aking a strange noise. It seems to be in
pain.’
‘Engines feel pain. T hey tell us by m aking a noise.’
‘T h en the pum p needs help,’ said M m a Potokw ane. ‘C an you
look at it?’
‘O f course,’ said M r JLB M atekoni.
It took him a long tim e, but at last he was able to fix the
pum p. It w ould need to be changed one day, but at least the
noise had stopped.
Back in M m a P otokw ane’s office, he had a cup o f tea and a
piece o f cake that the farm cooks had baked that m orning. T he
orphans were well fed, unlike m any in other African countries.
Botswana was fortunate. Everyone had enough to eat.
‘So you w ill be m arried soon,’ said M m a Potokw ane. ‘You
w ill have to behave yourself, M r JLB M atekoni!’
He laughed, eating the last piece o f his cake. ‘M m a R am otsw e
w ill w atch me. She w ill m ake sure that I behave well.’
‘W ill you live in her house or yours?’ asked M m a
Potokw ane.

19
 ‘I th in k we w ill live in her house,’ he said. ‘It is a bit nicer
than m ine. It is in Zebra Drive, you know .’
‘Yes, I have seen it,’ said M m a Potokw ane. ‘It’s quite big, isn’t
it? T here w ill be room for children.’
‘We have not been th in k in g o f that,’ said M r JLB M atekoni.
‘W e are probably too old for children.’
M r JLB M atekoni w ondered if he w ould have the energy
to take care o f children. H e w anted to fix engines during the
day and spend his evenings w ith M m a R am otsw e. C hildren
needed to be taken to school and put in the bath and taken to
the hospital. W ould he and M m a R am otsw e really w ant that?
‘O f course,’ said M m a Potokw ane, w atching him as she
spoke, ‘you could take an orphan as a foster child. You could
give the children to M m a R am otsw e as a w edding gift. W om en
love children.’
‘But ...’
M m a Potokw ane interrupted. ‘T here are tw o children w ho
w ould be happy to live w ith you.’
‘Two children? Two?’
‘A b rother and a sister. W e do not w ant to separate them . T he
girl is twelve and the boy is five. Actually, you have m et one o f
them already. T he girl in the w heelchair.’
M r JLB M atekoni said nothing. He rem em bered the child,
w ho had been very polite and grateful. But w ould it not be
rather difficult to look after a child in a wheelchair? M m a
Potokw ane had said n o th ing about this w hen she began talking
about children. T h en she had added an extra child - the brother
—and now she appeared to believe that the w heelchair was not
im portant. H e stopped himself. H e could be the one in that
chair.
M m a Potokw ane had been looking out o f the window . N ow
she tu rn ed to him .
‘W ould you like me to call that child?’ she asked. ‘I am not

20
try in g to force you, M r JLB M atekoni, but w ould you like to
m eet her again, and the little boy?’
T he room was silent. M r JLB M atekoni rem em bered how
it was to be a child, back in the village, all those years ago. He
rem em bered how the village m echanic had let him clean lorries
and m end tyres, and by this kindness had helped him find his
life’s w ork. It was easy to m ake a difference in people’s lives.
‘Call them ,’ he said. ‘I w ould like to see them .’
‘You are a good m an, M r JLB M atekoni,’ she said. ‘I w ill ask
som eone to bring them here. T hey are in the fields now. But
w hile we are w aiting, I w ill tell you their story.’

T he Basarwa*, said M m a Potokw ane, lead a hard life in the

Kalahari. T hey have no cows, no houses to live in. W h en you
w onder how you and I could live like that, you w ill know that
these bushm en are special people.
A group o f bushm en had com e from the K alahari to a village
near M aun, h u n tin g game. T hey had a camp a few kilom etres
outside the village. T hey had killed some anim als and had
plenty o f meat, so they were happy to stay there, sleeping under
the bushes.
T here were several children, and one w om an had just given
birth to a baby boy. She was sleeping w ith him at her side, away
from the others. She had a daughter, too, w ho was sleeping on
the other side o f her m other. W hile the m other was sleeping, a
snake bit her. She died before the baby woke up.
T he bushm en prepared to bury the m other that m orning.
But w hen a bushm an w om an dies, and she is still feeding a baby,
they bury the baby too. There just isn’t enough food for a baby
w ithout a m other.

* Basarwa: the people w ho live in the Kalahari Desert.They are also called bushmen.

21
 T he girl hid in the bush and watched them take her m other
and her baby brother. They dug a shallow hole in the sand and put
the m other in it. T he other w om en cried and the m en sang. The
girl watched as they put her little brother in the hole too. T hen
they pushed sand over them both and w ent back to the camp.
T he m om ent they had gone, the girl came out and started
digging. Soon she had her brother in her arms. T here was sand
in his nose but he was still breathing. She ran through the bush
to the road. A short tim e later, a G overnm ent lorry came past
and stopped. T he driver was probably surprised to see a girl
standing at the side o f the road w ith a baby in her arms. He
couldn’t understand w hat she said, but he took her to a hospital
on the way to Francistown.
T he baby was th in and the girl had TB, w hich was not
unusual. T hey kept the children in the hospital for tw o m onths
and gave the girl drugs. T hen they let them go because beds in
the TB room s w ere needed for other sick people.
A nurse at the hospital was w orried about the children, so
she took them to her hom e and let them live in a small room .
T he nurse and her husband fed the children, but they had tw o
children o f their ow n and not m uch money.
T he girl learned the Setswana language quickly. She
discovered how to earn a few pula by collecting em pty bottles
from the side o f the road and taking them back to the bottle
shop. Sometim es she asked for m oney outside the railway station,
but she preferred to earn it if she could. A nd although she was
still a child herself, she was a good m other to the baby boy. She
washed him and made clothes for him . She always carried him
on her back and never let him out o f her sight.
T his w ent on for four years. T hen the girl becam e ill.
T hey took her back to the hospital and found that the TB
had badly dam aged her bones. A fter some tim e, she could not
walk. T h e nurse found a w heelchair for her. N ow she had to

22
look after the boy from the wheelchair, and he did little things
to help his sister.
T he nurse and her husband had to move. T he husband had
a new jo b dow n in Lobatse. T he nurse knew about the orphan
farm, so she w rote to me. I said that we w ould take them , and
I w ent to Francistow n to get them just a few m onths ago. N ow
they are here w ith us, as you have seen.
T hat is their story, M r JLB M atekoni. T hat is how they came
here.

M r JLB M atekoni said nothing. H e looked at M m a Potokw ane.

T he children’s story had affected him deeply.
‘T hey w ill be here in a few m inutes,’ said M m a Potokw ane.
‘D o you w ant me to say that you m ight be able to take them ?’
M r JLB M atekoni closed his eyes. H e had not spoken to
M m a R am otsw e about it and it seemed w rong to surprise her
w ith som ething like this. Was this a good way to start their
m arriage?
B ut here were the children. T he girl in her wheelchair,
sm iling at him , and the boy standing there, looking so serious.
H e took a deep breath. T here were times in life w hen a person
had to do som ething. This was probably one o f those times.
‘W ould you children like to come and stay w ith m e?’ he said.
‘J ust for a w eek or two? T hen we can see how things are.’
T he girl looked at M m a Potokw ane.
‘R ra M atekoni w ill look after you w ell,’ she said. ‘You w ill
be happy there.’
T he girl tu rn ed to her brother and said som ething to him
that the adults did not hear. T he boy thought for a m om ent, and
then smiled.
‘You are very kind, R ra ,’ the girl said. ‘W e w ill be happy to
come w ith you.’

23
 M m a Potokw ane shouted happily. ‘Go and pack, children,’
she said. ‘Take some clean clothes.’
T he girl tu rn ed her w heelchair round and left the room w ith
her brother.
‘W h at have I done?’ asked M r JLB M atekoni quietly.
‘A very good th in g ,’ M m a Potokw ane said.

C hapter 6 M m a M akutsi’s P ro m o tio n

M m a M akutsi, Secretary o f the N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency

and top graduate o f the Botsw ana Secretarial College, sat at her
desk and looked out o f the open door. She liked to leave the
door open but sometimes the chickens came in. She did not
like the chickens. It was not professional to have chickens in a
detective agency.
‘Get out,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘This is not a chicken farm. O ut.’
She got up and the chickens moved slowly towards the door.
H ow m any top graduates o f the Botsw ana Secretarial College
had to push chickens out o f their offices, she w ondered. She had
expected to get a jo b in one o f the m odern office buildings in
tow n, but she had received no offers. But some w om en w ith
m uch worse marks on the exam ination had found good jobs.
W hy?
‘M en ru n these businesses, don’t they?’ said one o f the other
students in M m a M akutsi’s class.
‘I suppose so,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘M en choose the
secretaries.’
‘So how do you th in k they choose them? By their exam ination
marks? O f course not! M en choose the beautiful girls. To the
others, they say, “ Sorry, but all the jobs have gone”.’
M m a M akutsi had cried that evening. W hy had she w orked
so hard for her top marks? W ould she ever get a jo b at all?

24
 T he next day the question was answered. She was offered
the jo b o f secretary at M m a R am otsw e’s agency. If m en will
not give you a job, go to a w om an. T he office was not m odern,
it was true, but it was certainly better to w ork in a detective
agency than in a bank or a law yer’s office.
But there was still this problem w ith the chickens.

‘So, M m a M akutsi,’ said M m a R am otsw e, ‘I w ent to M olepolole

and found the com m une w here those people lived. I spoke to a
w om an w ho had w orked there and I saw everything there was
to see.’
‘A nd you found som ething?’ asked M m a M akutsi, m aking a
pot o f bush tea.
‘I found a feeling,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I felt that the young
A m erican was there.’
‘H e is still living there?’
‘No. H e is dead. But he is there.’
M m a M akutsi understood. W hen we die, we do not leave the
place w here we w ere living. A part o f us never goes away.
She poured the tea and gave a cup to M m a R am otsw e.
‘Are you going to tell the A m erican w om an this?’ she asked.
‘She w ill ask, “W here is the body?” She w o n ’t understand.’
M m a R am otsw e looked at her secretary. ‘This is an intelligent
person,’ she thought. ‘She knows how the A m erican w om an
w ould th in k .’
‘I also found this,’ said M m a R am otsw e. She took the newspaper
photograph out o f her pocket and gave it to M m a Makutsi. ‘It was
on the wall. Those people lived there at the tim e.’
‘T here are names below the photograph,’ said M m a M akutsi.
‘Cephas K alum ani. M m a Soloi. Oswald R anta. But even if we
find these people, w hat can they tell us? I’m sure the police
talked to them . M aybe they even spoke to M m a C u rtin .’

25
 M m a M akutsi studied the people in the photograph. Two
m en and a w om an were standing in the front. A nother m an and
w om an were behind them , their faces unclear.
T he names belonged to the people in the front. Cephas
K alum ani was a tall, th in m an w ho looked uncom fortable.
M m a Soloi, next to him , was sm iling - a hard-w orking,
uncom plaining w om an.
T he th ird person was O sw ald R anta. H e was good-looking
and well dressed, w ith a w hite shirt and tie. Like M m a Soloi, he
was sm iling. But his smile was very different.
‘I do not like R an ta,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I do not like the
way he looks.’
‘I know ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘T hat is a bad m an.’
‘Are you going to find him ?’
‘T h at is the next thing I shall do. But first you can help me
w ith some letters.’
W h ile M m a M akutsi typed the letters, she thought about
O sw ald R anta. His nam e was slightly unusual. It w ould be
simple to look the nam e up in the telephone book. W h en she
finished the letter, she took out the Botsw ana telephone book.
As she thought, there was only one Osw ald R anta.
W hile M m a R am otsw e was signing the letters, M m a M akutsi
called the num ber. ‘Is R ra R an ta there, please?’ she asked. She
spoke in a low voice and M m a R am otsw e did not hear her.
‘H e is at w ork at the university,’ said a w om an’s voice. ‘I am
his m aid.’
‘I’m sorry, M m a, but I have to phone him at work. C an you
give m e the num ber?’
She w rote the num ber on a piece o f paper. T hen she made
another telephone call and again w rote som ething on the paper.
‘M m a R am otsw e,’ she said w hen she was finished, ‘Osw ald
R an ta is living here in Gaborone. H e teaches at the university.
His secretary says he comes in at eight o ’clock every m orning.’

26
M m a M akutsi studied the people in the photograph.
 M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘You are very clever. H ow did you
find all this out?’
‘I looked in the telephone book. T hen I called to find out
the rest.’
‘T hat was very good detective w ork.’
‘I am happy that you th in k so. I w ant to be a detective.’
M m a R am otsw e thought about her secretary. She was
intelligent and a good worker. W hy not give her a prom otion
and m ake her happy? T hey could buy an answ ering m achine to
answer the telephone.
‘I w ill give you a prom otion,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘You
w ill be an assistant detective. Starting tom orrow .’
M m a M akutsi stood up. She opened her m outh to speak but
no words came out. T he em otion was too great.

C hapter 7 Mr B ad u le’s W ife

It was the first day o f M m a M akutsi’s prom otion to assistant

detective.
‘You are an assistant detective,’ M m a R am otsw e had said,
‘but you w ill still need to type and do other things.’
‘T hat is all right, said M m a M akutsi. ‘I can do all those things,
but I w ill do m ore as well. I shall have clients.’
M m a R am otsw e was surprised. She had not planned on
letting M m a M akutsi have her ow n clients. But maybe it was
selfish to keep all the clients for herself.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You can have clients. But not the big clients
at first. You can start w ith small m atters.’
‘T h at is quite fair,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I do not w ant to ru n
before I can walk. T h an k you, M m a.’
M m a R am otsw e thought she should give M m a M akutsi
a client as soon as possible. W hen, later that m orning, M r

28
Letsenyane Badule arrived, she decided that this w ould be her
assistant’s first case.
M r Badule was nervous as he sat in the client’s chair.
‘You need not feel em barrassed,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘M any
people come here to ask for help.’
‘Actually,’ said M m a M akutsi, ‘it is the strong people w ho ask
for help. T he w eak ones are too ashamed to ask.’
M r Badule seemed to relax after M m a M akutsi said this. T hat
was good, thought M m a R am otsw e. She know s how to speak
to a client.
‘I have been very w orried,’ said M r Badule. ‘I have not been
able to sleep. I have a question that keeps me awake.’
‘W h y don’t you tell us about yourself, R ra?’ said M m a
R am otsw e.
M r Badule told his story over a cup o f tea.

I am not an im portant m an, he began. I come from Lobatse, and

my father w orked at the H igh C ourt, as a cleaner. H e was a hard
w orker and the judge was kind to him . H e was kind to me too.
He helped me get a place in a good school.
W h en I passed my exam inations, I got a jo b w ith the
G overnm ent M eat Agency. I w orked hard. W hen I saw other
workers steal meat, I reported it. M y boss was pleased w ith me
and gave me a prom otion.
A fter some tim e, I saved enough m oney to buy m y ow n shop.
Perhaps you have seen it on the road to Lobatse. It is called the
H onest M eat Shop.
T he shop does quite well, but I have not got a lot o f extra
money. M y wife does not w ork and she likes expensive clothes.
For m any years we did not have children. But then we had a
son. I was proud o f him .
M y son did not do well in school. His teachers said his w riting

29
was untidy and full o f mistakes. M y wife said that we should
send him to a private school, but I was w orried that it w ould be
too expensive. W h en I said that, she becam e very cross.
‘If you cannot pay for a private school,’ she said, ‘I w ill go to
a charity and ask them to pay.’
‘T here are no charities that w ill pay for private schools,’ I
said.
‘I know one that will, and I w ill speak to them tom orrow .’
She w ent to tow n the next day. W h en she came back, she said
it had all been arranged. ‘T he charity w ill pay for him to go to
T h o rn h ill,’ she said. ‘H e can start next term .’
I was surprised. T h o rn h ill is a very good school, you know.
I asked m y wife to tell me the nam e o f the charity, so I could
th ank them , but she said that it was a secret.
M y son liked T h o rn h ill and soon he was getting good marks
in m athem atics and w riting. I th in k if he continues to do well,
he w ill get an im portant jo b in the G overnm ent one day. And
he is the grandson o f a cleaner!
I’m sure you are thinking, w hy should this m an complain? He
has a well-dressed wife and a clever son. But w hen I come hom e
from w ork and my wife is not yet hom e, and I w ait until ten or
eleven o ’clock before she returns, I worry. Because, you see, I
th in k my wife is seeing another m an. I know m any husbands say
that, and they are w rong. I hope I am w rong. But I cannot have
any peace until I know if it is true or not.

W h en M r Letsenyane Badule left the office, M m a R am otsw e

looked at M m a M akutsi and smiled.
‘This is a very simple case, M m a M akutsi,’ she said. ‘I th in k
you should be able to handle it alone.’
‘T h an k you, M m a R am otsw e,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I shall
do m y best.’

30
 ‘So, w hat do you th in k ?’
‘I th in k M m a Badule is getting m oney from somewhere.
T hat means she is getting it from a m an. She is paying for the
school w ith the m oney.’
M m a R am otsw e agreed. ‘So now you should follow her one
day and see w here she goes. She should lead you straight to the
house o f this other m an. Find the m aid and give her one hundred
pula. She w ill tell you everything. Maids like to talk about w hat
happens in their boss’s house. T hen you tell M r Badule.’
‘T h at is the part I w ill not like,’ said M m a M akutsi.

M m a M akutsi felt w onderful. It was her first case as an assistant

detective. She could not drive, so she asked her uncle to drive
her. H e was excited about doing detective w ork, and put on a
pair o f dark glasses.
Early the next m orning, they drove to the house next to M r
Badule’s shop. T hey found a place to park across the road and
w aited in the car.
‘I have seen m any film s like this,’ said the uncle. ‘T he
detectives sit in their car and wait patiently. T h en som ebody
starts shooting.’
‘N obody w ill shoot,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘There is no shooting
in B otsw ana.’
At seven o ’clock a boy came out o f the house, dressed in the
uniform o f the T h o rn h ill School.
‘Should I m ake a note o f this?’ asked the uncle.
At first M m a M akutsi w anted to say that it w ould not be
necessary, but she changed her m ind. It w ould give her uncle
som ething to do. So the uncle w rote on a piece o f paper: ‘Badule
boy leaves house at 7 A M and goes to school on foot.’
Tw enty m inutes later, M r Badule came out o f the house and
w alked over to his shop. T he uncle m ade a note o f this too.

31
 T hey w aited for four hours. T he car was becom ing hot, and
M m a M akutsi was becom ing annoyed by all the notes her uncle
was taking. T h en they saw M m a Badule leave the house. She
got into a car and began to drive into tow n.
M m a M akutsi and her uncle followed her to a large house on
N yerere Drive. M m a Badule got out o f the car and w ent inside.
M m a M akutsi rem em bered M m a R am otsw e’s advice. T he best
th in g to do w ould be to talk to the maids and offer them the
new fifty pula notes that M m a R am otsw e had given her.
H er uncle w anted to go w ith her, but M m a M akutsi said it
w ould not be dangerous to talk to a few maids in the m iddle o f
the day. H e looked nervous as she left the car and w ent to the
m aid ’s entrance. H e took out his pencil, looked at his w atch and
made a note: ‘M m a M akutsi enters house at 2:10 PM .’
T here were tw o maids, one o f them older than the other.
T hey both stared at M m a M akutsi.
‘I w ant to talk to you, my sisters,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I w ant
to talk about the w om an w ho has com e to visit this house.’
‘She is a very w ell-dressed lady,’ said the younger maid. ‘She
comes and sits and drinks tea.’
T he older m aid smiled. ‘But she is also very tired. She often
has to lie dow n to rest in the bedroom .’
T he younger one laughed loudly. ‘O h, yes! T here is m uch
resting in that bedroom .’
M m a M akutsi laughed too. This was going to be easy.
‘W h o is the m an w ho lives in this house?’ she asked. ‘Has he
no wife?’
‘H e has a wife, all right,’ said the older maid. ‘She lives in
their village, near M ahalaype. H e goes there at weekends. This
w om an here is his tow n wife.’
‘Does the village wife know about the tow n wife?’
‘N o, she w ould not like it. She is a religious w om an and very
rich. She bought this house for her husband.’

32
 ‘But she does not like to live in G aborone,’ added the
younger maid. ‘She prefers her village. So he has to go back
every Friday, like a schoolboy going hom e for the w eekend.’
‘T he m an said that if we told his wife, we w ould lose our jobs,’
said the older maid. ‘So we keep our m ouths shut.’
Suddenly both maids looked upset. !A ieeF cried the younger
one. ‘Have you been sent by the wife?’
‘N o ,’ said M m a M akutsi quickly. ‘I do not know the wife.
The other w om an’s husband has asked me to find out w hat she
is doing.’
‘But if you tell him w hat is happening,’ said the older maid,
‘he m ight tell the real wife. T hat way we lose our jobs too. A nd
there is a boy w ho belongs to the well-dressed w om an. If you
look, you w ill see that he is the son o f the m an in this house, not
the other m an. T hey both have big noses. T he boy comes here
every day after school, but does not tell the father that he lives
w ith. T hat is bad. W h at w ill happen to Botswana, M m a, if we
teach boys to lie?’
M m a M akutsi retu rned to her uncle’s car. H e had fallen
asleep. She touched his arm and he woke up.
‘Ah! You are safe! I am glad that you are back.’
‘W e can go now,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I have found out
everything I need to know .’
T hey drove back to the N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency.
M m a M akutsi had not needed to give m oney to the maids, so
she gave fifty pula to her uncle for helping her. T hen she sat
dow n to w rite her report.
The client's wife has been seeing a man fo r many years. H e is the
husband o f a rich woman who does not know about this. The boy is the
son o f this man, and not the son o f the client. I am not sure what to do,
but I think we have two choices.
(a) We tell the client everything. This is what he asked us to do. We have
promised to tell him about his wife and we should keep our promises.

33
 (b) We tell the client that there is another man, but we do not know
who he is. I do not like to lie, as I believe in God. B ut if we tell the client
everything, he will be sad. H e will fin d out that his son is not his real
son. Would God want him to be unhappy? A n d what i f the rich woman
fin d s out? She may stop giving money to the realfather and he may stop
paying fo r the boy’s school. Then the boy would suffer.
For these reasons, I do not know what to do.
M m a M akutsi signed the report and put it on M m a R am otsw e’s
desk. T h en she looked out o f the w indow at the trees. She had
received top marks from the Botsw ana Secretarial College, but
they had not taught her how to answer a question like this one.

C hapter 8 A Trip in to T ow n

O n the m o rn in g that M m a M akutsi followed M r Letsenyane

B adule’s w ife to the house o f another m an, M r JLB M atekoni
decided to take his new children shopping.
T he children’s arrival at his hom e had upset him deeply. He
had gone out to fix a w ater pum p and had come back w ith tw o
children. N o w he had to take care o f them until they were
adults - actually, in the case o f the girl in the wheelchair, for the
rest o f her life. H ow had M m a Potokw ane made him do it?
But the children had arrived and now it was too late to
change that. As he sat in the office o f T lokw eng R oad Speedy
M otors, he m ade a decision. H e w ould stop w orrying about
how the children had arrived, and th in k only about how to take
good care o f them . T hey w ere fine children and their lives had
suddenly becom e better. Yesterday they had been tw o o f one
hundred and fifty children at the orphan farm. Today they were
living in a house w ith their ow n room , and w ith a father —he
was a father now! - w ho ow ned his ow n business. T here was
enough money, so w hy not spend some on the children? T hey

34
could go to a private school and learn everything they needed
to get good jobs.
Perhaps the boy ... N o, he could not really hope for this, but
it was an attractive thought. Perhaps the boy w ould be interested
in m echanical things and could ru n T lokw eng Speedy M otors.
For a few m om ents, M r JLB M atekoni im agined his son, his
son , standing in front o f the garage, cleaning his hands on a
piece o f oily cloth after fixing a com plicated engine. A nd in
the background, sitting in the office, he and M m a R am otsw e,
m uch older now, w ith grey hair, d rin k in g bush tea.
T h at w ould be far in the future. T here was m uch to do
before that. First, he w ould take them into tow n and buy them
new clothes. T he children had probably never had new clothes
before. T h en he w ould take them to the chem ist’s shop. T he
girl could buy creams and sw eet-sm elling soap and other things
that girls like. T here was only carbolic soap at hom e, and she
deserved better than that.
M r JLB M atekoni took the old green pick-up truck from the
garage. It had plenty o f room in the back for the wheelchair.
T he children w ere sitting in front o f his house. T he boy was
playing w ith a stick and the girl was m aking a cover for a m ilk
bottle. ‘She is a clever girl,’ he thought. ‘She w ill be able to do
anything if she is given a chance.’
T hey greeted him politely, and said the m aid had given them
breakfast. H e had asked the m aid to com e in early to take care o f
the children and she had agreed. But he heard loud noises from
the kitchen, and he knew the m aid was in a bad m ood.
T hey rode into tow n. T he girl asked questions about the old
pick-up, w hich surprised him .
‘I have heard that old engines need m ore oil,’ she said, ‘Is this
true, R ra?’
H e explained about old engine parts and she listened carefully,
but the boy did not seem interested.

35
 W h en they arrived in tow n, he parked the pick-up next to a
big w hite R an g e R over outside the British Embassy.
'D o you see that car? T hat is a very im portant car,’ he said.
'T h e ow ner always takes it to my garage.’
T he boy said nothing, but the girl said, ‘It is a beautiful w hite
car. It is like a cloud on wheels.’
M r JLB M atekoni tu rn ed round and looked at her.
‘T hat is a very good way o f talking about that car,’ he said. ‘I
shall rem em ber that.’
T he shop assistants w ere very kind. T hey helped the girl try
on the dresses she had chosen. They w ere the cheapest dresses,
but she said they were the ones she w anted.
T he boy seemed m ore interested. He chose the brightest
shirts he could find. H e w anted a pair o f w hite shoes, but his
sister disagreed.
‘W e cannot let him have those shoes, R ra ,’ she said to M r
JLB M atekoni. ‘T hey w ill get dirty very quickly and then he
w ill th ro w them away.’
‘I see,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. T he boy was polite and w ell-
behaved, but he began to th in k his son w ould never stand w ith
an oily cloth outside T lokw eng Speedy M otors. H e had another
th o ught o f the boy, in a stylish w hite shirt and a suit.
T hey finished shopping and were w alking past the post office
w hen the photographer stopped them .
‘I can take a photograph for you, right here,’ he said. ‘You
stand under this tree and I can take your photograph. You can
have it im mediately. A handsom e family group.’
‘W ould you like that?’ asked M r JLB M atekoni. ‘A photograph
to rem ind us o f our shopping trip?’
T he children smiled. ‘Yes, please,’ said the girl. ‘I have never
had a photograph.’
This girl, thought M r JLB M atekoni, was twelve years old
but she had never had a photograph o f herself. T here was no

36
 photograph o f her childhood. N obody had ever taken her
picture. She had not been special enough.
He had a sudden strong feeling o f pity for these children, pity
m ixed w ith love. H e w ould give them these things. T hey w ould
have everything that other children had.
He pushed the girl’s w heelchair in front o f the tree. T he
photographer waved his hand to get her attention. T hen he
pushed a bu tto n on the camera. T here was a noise and then, as
if he was perform ing a magic trick, the photographer pulled out
the photograph and gave it to the girl.
She took it and smiled. T hen the photographer did the same
perform ance w ith the boy.
‘N o w you can put those photographs in your room s,’ said M r
JLB M atekoni. ‘A nd one day we w ill have m ore photographs.’
H e tu rn ed round to push the wheelchair, but he stopped and
his arms fell to his sides, useless.
T here was M m a R am otsw e, standing in front o f him ,
carrying a basket o f letters. She had been on her way to the post
office w hen she saw him . W hat was happening? W hat was M r
JLB M atekoni doing, and w ho were those children?

Chapter 9 T h e B ad M aid

Florence Peko, the bad-tem pered m aid o f M r JLB M atekoni,

had a headache. She had had headaches since M r JLB M atekoni
said that he was going to m arry M m a R am otsw e. W henever
som ething bad happened, Florence had a headache. W h en her
brother was in court, for example, she had had headaches. W hen
she visited him in prison, there was always a headache.
H er b rother had been arrested for stealing cars.
W h y did he have to go to prison? T here were m any other
m en w ho were m uch worse than he was. T here was a long list

37
o f bad m en in Botswana. She knew some o f them .
A nd one o f them , M r Philem on Leannye, m ight even help
her, she thought. She had m et him at a restaurant. H e was tired
o f bar girls, he said. H e w anted to m eet some honest girls w ho
w ould not take his money.
‘Som eone like you,’ he had said.
H e m ade her feel special, and they began to see each other.
H e often disappeared for a m onth or tw o, but then he returned
w ith a gift for her. A silver clock, a bag, a bottle o f w ine. He
lived w ith a w om an and three children.
‘T h at w om an always shouts at m e,’ he com plained. ‘I give her
m oney every m onth, but she always wants more. She says the
children are hungry. She is never satisfied.’
‘You should leave her and m arry m e,’ said Florence. ‘I w ould
not shout at a m an. I w ould m ake a good wife for a m an like
you.’
She had been serious, but he laughed.
‘You w ould be just as bad,’ he said. ‘W h en w om en m arry,
they start to complain. Everyone knows this.’
T h en one tim e, w hen he was in trouble, the police talked to
her. She told them that he was w ith her w hen he was not. N ow
he w ould have to do som ething for her.
O ne hot afternoon, they were in M r JLB M atekoni’s
bedroom . ‘Philem on,’ she said to him , ‘I w ant a gun. C an you
get one for m e?’
H e laughed. ‘W h o do you w ant to shoot? M r JLB M atekoni?
D o you w ant to shoot him the next tim e he complains about
y our cooking? H ah!’
‘N o, I am not going to shoot anybody. I w ant to put the gun
in som eone’s house. T hen I w ill tell the police about the gun
and they w ill come and find it.’
‘So I w o n ’t get my gun back?’
‘No. T he police w ill take it. But they w ill also take the person

38
w ho lives in the house. W hat happens if the police find a gun
that you are not supposed to have?’
Philem on lit a cigarette and blew smoke towards M r JLB
M atekoni’s ceiling.
‘T he police do n ’t w ant people to have guns here,’ he said. ‘If
they catch you w ith a gun, you go to prison.’
‘I am glad to hear that,’ said Florence.
‘So how w ill I pay for this gun?’ he asked. ‘It w ill cost five
hundred pula —m aybe more. Som eone has to go to South Africa
to get one. You can’t buy them in Botsw ana.’
‘I haven’t got five h undred pula,’ she said. ‘W hy not steal the
gun? You know w here you can get one. Ask one o f your boys to
do it.’ She paused, and then said, ‘R em em ber that I helped you.
T hat was not easy for m e.’
He looked at her carefully. ‘D o you really w ant this?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s really im portant to m e.’
H e put out his cigarette.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll get you a gun. B ut rem em ber, if
anything goes w rong, you did not get the gun from m e.’
‘I shall say I found it,’ said Florence. ‘I shall say that it was
lying in the bush near the prison. M aybe one o f the prisoners
left it there.’
‘T h at sounds good,’ said Philem on. ‘W h en do you w ant it?’
‘As soon as you can get it.’ she replied.
‘I can get you one tonight,’ he said. ‘Actually, I have an extra
one. You can have that.’
She touched him gently. ‘You are a very kind m an. You can
come and see me any time. I am always happy to see you, and
m ake you happy.’
‘You are a very fine girl,’ he said, laughing. ‘Very bad. Very
clever.’

39
He gave her the gun, as he had prom ised. It was inside a paper
package at the b ottom o f a w hite shopping bag. She took it out
o f the package and he started to explain how to use it, but she
interrupted.
‘I am not interested in that,’ she said. ‘All I am interested in is
this gun, and the bullets.’
H e gave her some bullets. She liked the way they felt. T hey
w ould m ake fine jew ellery, she thought, if you put them together
on a string.
Philem on helped her to put the bullets into the gun, and to
clean the gun afterwards so there w ould be no marks from her
fingers. T hen he kissed her and left. She missed him as soon
as he had gone. If she w ent to his house and shot his wife, she
w ondered, w ould he m arry her?
But she could never shoot anyone. She was a good person, she
thought. She just had bad luck. T h a t’s w hy she had to do things
that good people did not do. O r said they did not do - Florence
knew that everybody did bad things sometimes. A nd she was
only try in g to save M r JLB M atekoni from that fat detective
w om an, w ho shouldn’t try to take w hat wasn’t hers. A few years
in prison w ould teach that w om an a lesson.
‘I have got a gu n,’ thought Florence. ‘N ow I need to put the
gun into a house in Zebra D rive.’
She needed som eone else to help her. Fortunately, a m an
called Paul had borrow ed m oney from her tw o years ago. It was
not a lot o f money, but he had never paid it back. Perhaps he
had forgotten about it, but Florence had not forgotten, and now
she w ould rem ind him . A nd Paul had a wife w ho did not know
about his secret visits to M r JLB M atekoni’s house. If he refused,
she could say she was going to tell the wife.
W h en she rem inded him o f the money, Paul said he could
not pay it back.
‘M y wife knows about every pula I spend,’ he said. ‘O ne o f

40
H e gave her the gun, as he had promised.
our children is always ill. W e have to pay the hospital a lot o f
money. But I w ill pay you back one day.’
‘I can forget the m oney if you do som ething for m e,’ she said.
‘J ust go to an em pty house, break a w indow in the kitchen and
go inside.’
‘I am not a robber,’ he said. ‘I do not steal.’
‘I am not asking you to steal. I w ant you to put som ething in
the house. It’s just a package that I w ant to keep in a safe place.’
At last he agreed. H e w ould do it the next afternoon, w hen
everybody was at work. She knew that the m aid w ould not be
there, and there was no dog.
She gave him the package. H e did not know w hat it was, but
it was heavy and he began to have doubts.
‘D o n ’t ask,’ she said. ‘D o n ’t ask and you w on’t know .’
‘It’s a gu n ,’ he thought. ‘She wants me to put a gun in the
house in Zebra D rive.’
‘I don’t w ant to carry this w ith m e,’ he said. ‘It’s very
dangerous. I know it’s a gun and I don’t w ant the police to
catch me w ith it. I w ill fetch it from you at the M atekoni house
tom orrow .’
She thought for a m om ent. She could carry the gun to M r JLB
M atek o n i’s house in the shopping bag. Paul could take it from
her there. T he im portant thing was to put it in the R am otsw e
house, and then, tw o days later, to m ake that telephone call to
the police.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘C om e at 2.30 tom orrow . H e w ill be at
the garage then.’ She put the package back in the shopping bag.
‘You have been a good m an. N ow I w ant to m ake you happy.’
N o ,’ he said. ‘I am too nervous to be happy. M aybe some
o ther tim e.’

T he follow ing afternoon, Paul M onosopati, an employee o f the

42
G aborone Sun Hotel, and a m an w ho was expecting prom otion,
made a telephone call.
‘N o w listen to me, R ra ,’ he said to the m an at the other end,
‘I cannot speak for long. But I am against crim e.’
‘T h a t’s good,’ said the policem an.
‘If you go to a house on the way to the old airport, you will
find a w om an w ith a gun. She sells them . You w ill catch her if
you go now. T he gun does not belong to the m an w ho owns
the house, it is the w om an’s gun. She w ill have it w ith her in the
kitchen, in a w hite shopping bag.’
H e gave the address o f the house and then put dow n the
telephone. At the other end o f the line, the policem an smiled.
This w ould be an easy arrest, he thought. T here should be
a rew ard for good citizens w ho reported crimes like this, he
thought. Five hundred pula, at least.

C hapter 10 F am ily

M r JLB M atekoni looked up at the em pty sky. T hen he looked

dow n. M m a R am otsw e was still there, not understanding w hat
she saw. She knew that he w orked for the orphan farm. She
w ould th in k he was taking tw o orphans out for the day. She
w ould not im agine that he had tw o foster children, and that
they w ould soon be her foster children too.
‘W h at are you doing?’ she said simply.
It was a reasonable question. M r JLB M atekoni looked at
the children. T he girl had put her photograph into the plastic
bag on the side o f her wheelchair. T he boy was holding his
photograph tightly, afraid, perhaps, that M m a R am otsw e w ould
take it away from him .
‘These are tw o children from the orphan farm ,’ said M r JLB
M atekoni w ith a w eak voice.

43
 T he girl smiled and greeted M m a R am otsw e politely.
‘I am called M otholeli,’ she said. ‘M y brother is called Puso.
These are the names that we were given at the orphan farm .’
‘I hope they are looking after you w ell,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘M m a Potokw ane is a kind lady.’
‘She is kind,’ said the girl. ‘Very kind.’
M r JLB M atekoni spoke quickly.
‘I have had the children’s photographs taken,’ he explained.
‘Show yours to M m a R am otsw e, M otholeli.’
T he girl pushed her w heelchair forw ard and gave her
photograph to M m a R am otsw e.
‘T h at is a very nice photograph to have,’ she said. ‘Is M r
JLB M atekoni taking you back now, or are you going to eat in
tow n?’
‘W e have been shopping,’ M r JLB M atekoni said quickly.
‘W e may have one or tw o m ore things to do.’
‘W e w ill go back to his house soon,’ the girl said. ‘W e are
living w ith M r JLB M atekoni now.’
M r JLB M atekoni felt his heart jum p. ‘I am going to have a
heart attack and die now,’ he thought.
M m a R am otsw e looked at M r JLB M atekoni.
‘T hey are staying at your house?’ she said. ‘This is som ething
new. Have they ju st com e?’
‘Yesterday,’ he said slowly.
M m a R am otsw e looked dow n at the children and then at M r
JLB M atekoni.
‘I th in k we should have a talk,’ she said. ‘You children stay
here for a m om ent. M r JLB M atekoni and I are going to the
post office.’
H e followed her into the post office w ith his head dow n, like
a schoolboy w ho had been caught doing som ething w rong. She
w ould not m arry him now. He had lost her because he had been
dishonest and stupid. A nd it was all M m a P otokw ane’s fault!

44
 M m a R am otsw e put dow n her basket o f letters.
‘W h y did you not tell me about these children?’ she asked.
H e could not look at her. ‘I was going to tell you,’ he said. ‘I
was at the orphan farm yesterday. T he w ater pum p was broken.
It’s very old and it w ill have to be changed soon ...’
‘Yes, yes,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘B ut w hat about these
children?’
‘M m a Potokw ane is a very strong w om an,’ he said. ‘She
told me I should take some foster children. I did not w ant to
do it before I talked to you, but she did not listen to me. She
brought the children to m eet me. I had no choice.’
‘So,’ she said, ‘you agreed to take these children. A nd now
they th in k they are going to stay.’
‘Yes, I suppose that is true,’ he said quietly.
‘A nd for how long?’
M r JLB M atekoni took a deep breath. ‘For as long as they
need a hom e. T hat is w hat I offered them .’
To his surprise, M r JLB M atekoni began to feel m ore
confident. H e had done noth in g w rong. H e had not stolen
anything or killed anyone. H e had just offered to change the
lives o f tw o p oor children. If M m a R am otsw e did not like that,
there was n o th in g he could do about it now.
M m a R am otsw e suddenly laughed. ‘Well, M r JLB M atekoni,’
she said. ‘N obody can say you are not a kind m an. You are, I
think, the kindest m an in Botswana. I do not know anybody
else w ho w ould do that.’
M r JLB M atekoni stared at her. ‘You are not cross?’
‘I was,’ she said. ‘But only for a short time. O ne m inute
maybe. But then I thought, “D o I w ant to m arry the kindest
m an in Botswana? I do. C an I be a m other to these children? I
can.” T h at is w hat I thought, M r JLB M atekoni.’
H e looked at her, not believing w hat he had heard. ‘You are
a very kind w om an yourself, M m a.’

45
 ‘W e must not stand here and talk about kindness,’ she said.
‘T here are tw o children there. L et’s take them back to Zebra
D rive and show them w here they are going to live. T hen this
afternoon I can collect them from your house and bring them
to my home. M y hom e is m ore ...’
She stopped herself, but he did not m ind.
‘I know your house is m ore com fortable than m ine,’ he said.
‘A nd it w ould be better for them if you looked after them .’
T hey w alked back to the children together.
‘I’m going to m arry this lady,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘She
w ill be your m other soon.’
T he boy looked surprised, but the girl low ered her eyes
politely.
‘T h an k you, M m a,’ she said, ‘W e shall try to be good
children.’
‘T h at is good,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘W e shall be a very
happy family. I know it already.’
M m a R am otsw e and the boy drove o ff in her little w hite
van. M r JLB M atekoni took the girl in his pick-up. W h en he
got to Zebra Drive, M m a R am otsw e and Puso were w aiting for
them . T he boy was excited and ran to greet his sister.
‘This is a very good house,’ he shouted. ‘Look, there are trees
and fruit. I w ill have a room at the back.’
M r JLB M atekoni let M m a R am otsw e show the children
around the house. H er father, O bed R am otsw e, had done a very
fine job, he thought. He had given B otsw ana one o f its finest
ladies.
W hile M m a R am otsw e was m aking lunch for the children,
M r JLB M atekoni telephoned the garage. T he younger assistant
answered. His voice was high and excited.
‘I am glad that you telephoned, R ra ,’ he said. ‘T he police
came. T hey w anted to speak to you about your maid. She had a
gun in her bag and they have arrested her.’

46
 T h at was all the assistant knew, and so M r JLB M atekoni put
dow n the telephone. His m aid had had a gun! H e knew she was
lazy and dishonest, but this? Was she going to kill someone?
H e w ent into the kitchen.
‘M y m aid has been arrested by the police,’ he told M m a
R am otsw e. ‘She had a gun in her bag.’
M m a R am otsw e put dow n her spoon. ‘I am not surprised,’
she said. ‘T hat w om an was very dishonest.’
M r JLB M atekoni and M m a R am otsw e decided to spend the
rest o f the day w ith the children. M r JLB M atekoni telephoned
his assistants and told them to close the garage until the next
m orning.
‘I told them to use the tim e to study,’ he said to M m a
R am otsw e. ‘But they w on’t study. T hey w ill go and chase girls.
T here is n o th in g in those young m en’s heads.’
‘M any young people are like that,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘T hey th in k only o f dances and clothes and loud music. We
were like that too, rem em ber?’
M m a R am otsw e called the No. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency.
M m a M akutsi answered and said that she had com pleted her
report on the Badule m atter. T hey w ould have to talk about
that, M m a R am otsw e told her.
Lunch was ready, though. It was tim e to sit dow n to eat as a
family for the first time.
‘W e are grateful for this food,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘T here
are brothers and sisters w ho do not have good food on their table.
We th in k o f them and wish them food in the future. A nd we
thank the Lord, w ho has brought these children into our lives so
we can all be happy and the children can have a hom e w ith us.
A nd we th in k o f the m other and father o f these children, w ho
are w atching us from above.’
M r JLB M atek o n i’s heart was so full o f em otion that he could
say nothing. So he was silent.

47
 C hapter 11 O sw ald R anta

'I have read your report,’ said M m a R am otsw e, w hen M m a

M akutsi arrived for w ork the next m orning. 'It is com plete and
well w ritten .’
‘T h an k you, M m a,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘I am happy that my
first case was not a difficult one. I m ean, it was not difficult to
find out w hat we needed to know. B ut those questions at the
end o f m y report —they are difficult. I don’t know how to solve
them .’
‘Yes,’ said M m a R am otsw e, looking at the report. ‘T hey are
difficult for me too. I am older than you, but I do not have the
answer to every problem that comes along.’
‘But w hat can we do?’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘If we tell M r
Badule about this m an, he may m ake trouble. T hen the boy
m ight not get m oney for school. T hat w ould not be good for
the boy.’
‘I know ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘But we cannot lie to M r
Badule. A detective must not lie to a client.’
‘Yes, but should we tell him everything? W e could say, “You
are right, your wife is seeing another m an,” and stop there. We
are not lying, are we? W e are just not telling all the tru th .’
In this case, thought M m a R am otsw e, the most im portant
th in g was w hat happened to the boy. H e should not suffer just
because his m other had behaved badly. But was anyone really
unhappy in this situation? T he well-dressed wife was happy
because she had a rich m an to buy her clothes. T he rich m an was
happy because he had a stylish lady friend. T he religious wife
was happy because she could live in her village and her husband
came hom e every weekend. T he boy was happy because he was
going to an expensive school.
‘It’s M r Badule,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘W e have to make
him happy. W e have to tell him w hat is happening, but we must

48
make him accept it. If he accepts it, then the whole problem
goes away.’
M m a M akutsi was not sure that this was possible. But she was
happy that M m a R am otsw e had made a decision, and she w ould
not have to tell any lies.
But there were other cases too. M rs C u rtin had sent a letter,
asking M m a R am otsw e if she had found anything out about
her son. ‘I have the feeling,’ she w rote, ‘that you w ill discover
som ething for m e.’
M m a R am otsw e knew that the young m an had died on the
com m une. Som eone had harm ed the boy, and now she had to
find som eone w ho could do harm : M r O sw ald R anta.

T he little w hite van entered the university car park. M m a

R am otsw e got out and looked around. She passed the university
every day but she had never been inside. She had not gone to
university. B ut here there w ere teachers and doctors, people
w ho had w ritten books, people whose heads contained m ore
know ledge than the heads o f most people.
She found a map o f the university on a wall. T he D epartm ent
o f M athem atics was here. T he D epartm ent o f E ngineering was
over there. A nd there, som ething called Inform ation.
She w ent looking for Inform ation and came to a small building
near the A frican Languages departm ent. M m a R am otsw e
knocked on the door and w ent inside.
A th in w om an was sitting behind a desk. She looked bored.
‘I am looking for M r R an ta,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘I believe
he works here.’
‘D r R an ta,’ said the w om an. ‘H e is not just M r R anta. H e is
D r R an ta.’
‘I am sorry,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘W here is he, please?’
‘H e is here one m om ent and then he is gone. T h a t’s D r R anta.

49
But you could try his office. H e has an office here. But most o f
the tim e he spends in the bedroom .’
‘O h ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘H e is a ladies’ m an, this D r
R an ta?’
‘You could say that,’ said the w om an. ‘A nd one day the
university w ill catch him . But until then, nobody dares
com plain.’
So often, thought M m a R am otsw e, other people did your
w ork for you, as this w om an was now doing.
‘W h y do people not com plain?’ she asked.
‘T he girls are afraid to speak,’ said the w om an. ‘A nd the other
teachers all have secrets too. T here are a lot o f people like D r
R an ta here. I can say this because I’m leaving tom orrow . I have
found a better jo b .’
T h en the w om an told her how to find D r R a n ta ’s office. As
she was leaving, M m a R am otsw e had an idea.
‘Perhaps, M m a, D r R an ta has done nothing w rong,’ she
said.
She saw im m ediately that it was going to work. T he w om an
had suffered because o f D r R anta.
‘O h, yes, he has,’ she said angrily. ‘H e showed an exam ination
paper to a student if she w ould do w hat he w anted. I know
because the student was my cousin’s daughter.’
‘But can you prove this?’ asked M m a R am otsw e.
‘N o ,’ she said. ‘H e w ould lie and then n othing w ould
happen.’
‘A nd this girl, M argaret, w hat did she do?’
‘M argaret? W h o is M argaret?’
‘Your cousin’s daughter,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘She is not called M argaret,’ said the w om an. ‘She is called
Angel. She did nothing, and he was never caught. M en never
get caught, do they?’
‘Sometim es they do,’ M m a R am otsw e thought. But she only

50
said goodbye and w ent to look for D r R a n ta ’s office.
T he door was slightly open. M m a R am otsw e listened and
heard the sound o f som eone typing on a com puter keyboard.
D r R an ta was in.
H e looked up quickly as she knocked on the door and opened
it more.
‘Yes, M m a,’ he said. ‘W h at do you w ant?’
‘I w ould like to speak to you, R ra. Have you got a
m om ent?’
He looked at his watch.
‘Yes,’ he said politely. ‘But I haven’t got a lot o f time. Are you
a student?’
M m a R am otsw e sat dow n. ‘N o, I am not. I have not been
to university. I was busy w orking for m y cousin’s husband’s
company.’
‘It is never too late, M m a,’ he said. ‘W e have some very old
students here. O f course, you are not very old, but I m ean that
anybody can study.’
‘M aybe,’ she said. ‘M aybe one day.’
‘You can study m any things here.’
‘C an som eone study to be a detective?’
H e looked surprised. ‘Detective? You can’t study that at a
university.’
‘But I have read that you can, at universities in A m erica.’
‘O h, yes, at A m erican universities you can study anything.
Sw im m ing, if you like. But not at the good universities. I studied
at D uke, a very good A m erican university.’
H e paused. ‘H e wants me to adm ire him ,’ thought M m a
R am otsw e. ‘T hat is w hy he needs all the girls —he needs people
to adm ire him .’
‘I w ould like to spend m ore tim e talking w ith you, M m a,’
he said, smiling. ‘But I am busy, so I m ust ask you w hat this is
about.’

51
 ‘I am sorry to take your time, R ra ,’ she said. ‘I am sure you
are very busy. I am just a lady detective ...’
H e stopped sm iling. ‘You are a detective?’ His voice was
colder now.
‘It is only a small agency. T he N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency.
It is over by Kale Hill. Perhaps you have seen it.’
‘I do not go over there,’ he said, looking nervous. ‘W hy do
you w ant to talk to me? Has som eone told you to com e and
speak to m e?’
‘No. I have come to ask you about som ething that happened
a long tim e ago. Ten years ago.’
H e stared at her. She thought she could smell fear on him .
‘Ten years is a long time. People do not rem em ber.’
‘N o ,’ she agreed. ‘T hey forget. But some things are difficult
to forget. For example, a m other w ill not forget her son.’
As she spoke, he changed again. H e got up from his chair
and laughed.
‘O h ,’ he said. ‘I see now. It’s that A m erican w om an, the one
w ho always asks questions. She is paying you to dig up the past
again. W ill she never stop? W ill she never learn?’
‘Learn w hat?’ asked M m a R am otsw e.
H e was standing at the w indow , looking at the students on
the path below.
‘Learn that there is noth in g to learn,’ he said. ‘T hat boy is
dead. Probably lost in the Kalahari. H e w ent for a w alk and
never came back. It’s easy to get lost in the desert, you know.
All the trees look the same and there are no hills to guide you,
so you get lost. Especially if you are a w hite m an in a foreign
land.’
‘But I don’t believe that he got lost and died,’ said M m a
R am otsw e. ‘I believe som ething else happened to him .’
H e tu rn ed to look at her.
‘For example?’ he said angrily.

52
 ‘I am not sure,’ she said. ‘H ow could I know? I wasn’t there.’
She paused, and then added quietly, ‘But you w ere.’
She could hear his breathing as he returned to his chair. From
the w indow , she could hear the students outside laughing and
shouting.
‘You say I was there,’ he said, staring at her. ‘W hat do you
m ean?’
She stared back. ‘I m ean that you were living there. You saw
him every day. You saw him on the day that he died. I’m sure
you know som ething.’
‘I told the police, and I have told the Am ericans w ho came
asking questions. I saw him that m orning, once, and I saw him
at lunch. I told them w hat we had for lunch. I described the
clothes he was w earing. I told them everything.’
He was lying, thought M m a R am otsw e. It was easy to see.
H ow could other people not know he was lying?
‘I do not believe you, R ra ,’ she said. ‘You are lying to m e.’
H e opened his m outh slightly, then closed it.
‘O u r talk has ended, M m a,’ he said. ‘I am sorry I cannot help
you.’
‘Very well, R ra ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘But you could help
that poor A m erican w om an. She is a m other. You had a m other.
But I know that you do not care. A nd not just because she is
a w hite w om an from America. If she was a w om an from your
ow n village, you w o u ldn’t care about her, w ould you?
H e smiled at her. ‘W e have finished our talk.’
‘But people can sometimes be m ade to care,’ she said.
‘In a m inute, I am going to telephone the university police.
I th in k I will say that you were trying to steal som ething. They
w ould come quickly. It m ight be difficult for you, M m a.’
‘I w o u ld n ’t do that if I were you, R ra ,’ she said. ‘You see, I
know all about Angel.’
H er words had an im m ediate effect. H e sat up straight in

53
his chair and she could smell the fear again. This tim e it was
stronger.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know about Angel and the exam ination
paper. I have a letter that describes everything that happened. It
is back in my office right now. W h at are you going to do, R ra?
W h at w ill you do in G aborone if you lose your university job?
W ill you go back to your village? Help w ith the cows again?’
Blackm ail, she thought. T hat was w hat she was doing,
blackm ail. A nd this is w hat a blackm ailer feels. T he feeling o f
com plete pow er over another person.
‘You cannot do that ... I w ill say I didn’t do it ... You cannot
prove anything ...’
‘B ut I can prove it,’ she said. ‘T here is Angel, and there is
another girl, w ho w ill lie and say that you gave her exam ination
questions too. She is cross w ith you and she w ill lie. T here w ill
be tw o girls w ith the same story.’
His lips were dry, she noticed. H e m oved his tongue over
them . His shirt was w et under the arms.
‘I do not like doing this, R ra ,’ she said. ‘B ut this is m y job.
Sometim es I have to do things like this. T here is a very sad
A m erican w om an w ho only wants to say goodbye to her son.
You don’t care about her, but I do. I th in k her feelings are m ore
im portant than yours.
‘So I am going to offer you som ething. You tell me w hat
happened. If you do, I prom ise you that Angel and her friend
w ill say n o thing.’
His breathing was strange, now —short, quick breaths.
‘I did not kill him ,’ he said. ‘I did not kill him .’
‘N o w you are speaking the tru th ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘But
you m ust tell me w hat happened, and w here his body is. T hat is
w hat I w ant to know .’
‘Are you going to the police?’ he asked.
‘N o, this story is just for his m other. T hat is all.’

54
 H e closed his eyes. 'I cannot talk here. You can come to my
house.’
‘I w ill come this evening.’
‘N o ,’ he said. ‘T om orrow evening.’
‘I shall come this evening,’ she said. ‘T hat w om an has w aited
for ten years. She must not w ait any longer.’
‘All right. I shall w rite dow n the address. You can come
tonight at nine o ’clock.’
‘I shall come at eight,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘N o t every
w om an w ill do w hat you tell her to do.’
She felt her heart ju m p in g as she w alked back to the little
w hite van. She did not know w here she had found the strength,
but it had been there, deep inside her.

C hapter 12 A t T lo k w en g R oad S p eedy M otors

W h ile M m a R am otsw e was blackm ailing D r O sw ald R an ta

—for good reasons, o f course —M r JLB M atekoni took his tw o
foster children to the garage for the afternoon.
T he girl, M otholeli, w anted to see him w ork, and he had
agreed. A garage was not a good place for children, w ith all those
heavy tools and machines. But he could ask one o f the assistants
to look after them w hile he was w orking. A visit to the garage
m ight m ake the boy m ore interested in m echanical work.
H e parked in front o f his office door and the boy ran off
immediately. M r JLB M atekoni had to call him back.
‘This place is dangerous,’ he w arned. ‘You m ust stay w ith one
o f the boys over there.’
H e called over the younger assistant. ‘Stop w hat you are
doing and watch these tw o w hile I am w orking. M ake sure they
don’t get h u rt.’
T he assistant smiled at the children. H e seemed happy w ith

55
his new job. ‘H e’s the lazy one,’ thought M r JLB M atekoni.
T he garage was busy. A football team ’s bus needed work.
W ith the help o f the other assistant, M r JLB M atekoni took the
engine out o f the bus. M otholeli w atched them carefully from
her w heelchair. H er brother looked once, and then looked away.
H e began to draw pictures in a pool o f oil on the ground.
W h en M r JLB M atekoni paused in his w ork, M otholeli
asked, ‘W hat is happening now, R ra? Are you going to change
those rings? Are they im portant?’
M r JLB M atekoni looked at the boy. ‘D o you see w hat I am
doing, Puso?’
T he boy smiled weakly.
‘H e is draw ing a picture o f a house in the oil,’ said the younger
assistant.
‘M ay I com e closer?’ asked the girl. ‘I w ill not get in the
way.’
M r JLB M atekoni agreed, and she pushed her w heelchair
closer. H e showed her the part o f the engine that he was
w orking on.
‘You hold this for m e,’ he said, and she held the tool he
gave her.
‘G ood. N o w tu rn it. N o t too much. G ood.’
H e put the tool back in the toolbox and looked at her. H er eyes
were bright w ith interest. H e could see that she loved engines.
His younger assistant did not, and that was w hy he w ould never
be a good m echanic. But this girl, this strange, serious girl, could
becom e a good m echanic. H e had never seen a girl becom e a
m echanic, but w hy not? People thought detectives were always
m en, but look at M m a R am otsw e.
M otholeli looked at him politely.
‘You are not cross w ith me, R ra?’ she said. ‘I am not annoying
you?’
H e put his hand gently on her arm.

56
 ‘O f course I am not cross,’ he said. ‘I am proud. I am proud
that I have a daughter w ho w ill be a great m echanic. Is that w hat
you w ant?’
‘Yes, I have always loved engines,’ she said. ‘B ut I have never
had the chance to do anything.’
‘T hat w ill change now,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘You can
come w ith me on Saturday m ornings and help me here. W ould
you like that? W e can m ake a special w ork place for you —a low
one, so you can sit in your chair and w ork.’
‘You are very kind, R ra ,’ she said.
W h en they had finally put the engine back, M otholeli smiled.
‘T hat bus is happy now,’ she said.
M r JLB M atekoni looked at her proudly. H e was no longer
w orried about the future o f T lokw eng R oad Speedy M otors.

C hapter 13 M ichael C urtin

M m a R am otsw e felt afraid. She had been afraid only once or

tw ice before in her w ork as B otsw ana’s only lady detective.
(M m a M akutsi, she thought, was only an assistant detective.)
O f course, there was no real reason to be afraid to go to
D r R a n ta ’s house. T here w ould be neighbours next door, there
w ould be the lights o f cars in the road. D r R an ta was a ladies’
m an, not a m urderer.
B ut sometimes very ordinary people can be m urderers. She
had read that most people knew the person w ho m urdered them .
M others killed their children. Husbands killed their wives.
W ives killed their husbands. Employees killed their employers.
Perhaps m urder happened in exactly this situation —a quiet talk
in a small house, w hile people did ordinary things just a short
distance away.
M r JLB M atekoni knew that som ething was w rong w ith

57
 M m a R am otsw e. H e had come to dinner to tell her about his
visit to his maid, w ho was now in prison. H e decided to tell his
story first, to take her m ind off her problem , w hatever it was.
‘I have asked a lawyer to see Florence,’ he said.
M m a R am otsw e put a large serving o f beans on M r JLB
M atek o n i’s plate.
‘D id she explain anything?’ she asked.
‘She was shouting w hen I first arrived,’ he said. ‘T he guards
said: “Please control your wife and tell her to shut her big
m outh.” I had to tell them tw ice that she was not my wife.’
‘B ut w hy was she shouting?’ asked M m a R am otsw e. ‘She
is a silly w om an, but I’m sure she knows that shouting w on’t
help her.’
‘She knows that, I th in k ,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘She was
shouting because she was so cross. She said som ething else too.
She said your name. I don’t know why.’
‘A nd the gun? D id she explain the gun?’
‘She said the gun did not belong to her. She said that it
belonged to a boyfriend and that he was com ing to collect it.
T h en she said that she didn’t know it was in her bag. She thought
it was a package o f m eat.’
‘N obody w ill believe that,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘T h a t’s w hat the lawyer said to me on the telephone,’ said M r
JLB M atekoni. ‘T he courts don’t believe people w ho say they
did not know they had a gun. T hey send them to prison for at
least a year.’
M r JLB M atekoni looked at M m a R am otsw e. She was
nervous about som ething. In a m arriage, it w ould be im p o rtan t
not to have secrets. O f course, he had kept his tw o foster
children a secret from M m a R am otsw e. B ut now they should
have no secrets.
‘M m a R am otsw e,’ he said, ‘you are th in k in g about som ething.
Is som ething wrong? Is it som ething I have said?’

58
 She looked at her watch.
‘It’s not about you,’ she said. ‘I have to speak to som ebody
tonight. It’s about M m a C u rtin ’s son. I am w orried about this
person that I have to see.’
She told him about D r R anta. She said that she did not th in k
he w ould m urder her, but she could not be sure.
H e listened quietly. W h en she had finished, he said, ‘You
cannot go. I cannot let m y future wife do som ething dangerous
like that.’
She looked at him . ‘It makes me very pleased to know that
you are w orried about me. But I am a detective. This is my
jo b .’
M r JLB M atekoni looked unhappy. ‘If you go, then I shall go
too. I shall wait outside. H e need not know I am there.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘W e w ill take my van. You can wait
outside w hile I am talking to him .’
‘A nd if there is a problem , you can shout,’ he said.
T hey finished the meal, both o f them feeling better. M r JLB
M atekoni took the plates to the kitchen, and M m a R am otsw e
w ent to look at the children. M otholeli had been reading to her
brother in his bedroom . N ow Puso was almost asleep and the
girl was sleepy herself.
‘It is tim e for you to go to bed too,’ she said to the girl. ‘M r
JLB M atekoni says you have had a busy day fixing engines.’
She pushed M otholeli back to her ow n room and the girl got
into bed.
‘Are you happy here, M otholeli?’ she asked.
‘I am so happy,’ said the girl. ‘A nd every day my life is getting
happier.’

T hey were parked outside D r R a n ta ’s house.

‘I w ill be ready,’ said M r JLB M atekoni. ‘If you shout, I w ill

59
 hear you.’
T hey looked at the house. It was an ordinary house w ith an
untidy garden. D r R an ta clearly did not employ a gardener,
thought M m a R am otsw e. This was w rong. A person w ith a
good job, like D r R anta, should employ people at hom e. There
were so m any people w ho needed work.
‘H e is selfish,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘T h a t’s exactly w hat I was th in k in g ,’ said M r JLB M atekoni.
She opened the door o f the van and got out. M r JLB M atekoni
watched her w alk to the front door and knock. D r R an ta had
been w aiting. H e quickly opened the door and she w ent inside.
‘Is your friend in the van com ing in, M m a?’ said D r R anta.
‘N o ,’ she said. ‘H e w ill w ait for me outside.’
D r R an ta laughed. ‘So you w ill feel safe?’
She did not answer his question. ‘You have a nice house,’ she
said. ‘You are fortunate.’
H e led her into the living room and they sat dow n.
‘I don’t w ant to waste tim e talking to you,’ he said. ‘I w ill
speak only because you are m aking trouble for me and because
som eone is lying about m e.’
H e was hurt, thought M m a R am otsw e. He had been beaten
—and by a w om an. T hat w ould be very em barrassing for a m an
like him .
‘H ow did M ichael C u rtin die?’ she asked.
‘I w orked there,’ he began. ‘I was studying w hat they were
doing, for the university. B ut I knew their com m une w ould fail.
I knew it w ould not work.
‘I lived in the big house. T he boss was a G erm an, B urkhardt
Fischer. H e had a wife, M arcia. T here was also a South African
w om an, Carla Smit. A nd the A m erican boy.
‘W e were all friends, except that B urkhardt did not like me.
H e tried to make me leave but he couldn’t. I was w orking for the
university. H e told lies about me, but they didn’t believe him.

60
 ‘T he A m erican boy was very polite. H e could speak some
Setswana and people liked him . T he South African w om an
liked him too. Soon they were sharing the same room . She did
everything for him . She cooked his food, cleaned his clothes.
T hen she becam e interested in me. I didn’t m ake her do it, but
she was w ith me at the same tim e that she was w ith that boy. She
said she w anted to tell him , but she didn’t w ant to hu rt him . So
we saw each other secretly.
‘B urkhardt guessed w hat was happening. He called me into
his office and said he w ould tell the A m erican boy if I didn’t
stop seeing Carla. H e becam e angry and said he w ould com plain
about me to the university. So I told him I w ould stop seeing
Carla.
‘But I did not. W h y should I? W e m et each other in the
evenings. She told the boy that she liked w alking in the bush at
night. H e didn’t because he thought it was dangerous. So he did
not go w ith her.
‘W e had a place w here we w ent to be alone together. It was a
small hut in the fields. T hat night we were in the hut together.
There was a full m oon outside. I heard som eone outside and I
opened the door very slowly. T he A m erican boy was outside.
‘He said, “W h at are you doing here?” I said nothing, and then
he saw Carla. O f course, then he knew w hat was happening.
‘At first he d idn’t say anything. T hen he began to ru n —not
back to the big house, but into the bush.
‘Carla shouted for me to go after him , so I did. H e ran fast.
I caught him once but he got away. I followed him through
the bush, and cut m yself on the arms and legs. It was very
dangerous.
‘I caught him again, but he pulled away from me. W e were
on the edge o f a deep ditch. H e fell into the ditch. I looked
dow n and saw him lying on the ground. H e was not m oving.
‘I clim bed dow n and looked at him . H e had broken his neck

61
 w hen he fell, and he was not breathing.
‘I ran back to Carla and told her w hat had happened. She
came back w ith me to the ditch. H e was clearly dead and she
started to scream.
‘W h en she had stopped scream ing, we talked about w hat to
do. I said that if we reported w hat had happened, nobody w ould
believe that it was an accident. People w ould say that we had
had a fight about Carla, and that I killed him . I knew B urkhardt
w ould say bad things about me to the police.
‘So we decided to bury the body and say that we knew
n o th in g about it. T here w ere some anthills near us, so I hid the
body inside one and covered it w ith leaves and stones. I did a
good job, because the game tracker never found it.
‘T he police asked us questions and we both said nothing. She
becam e very quiet and did not w ant to see me anym ore. A fter
some tim e, she left. She told me that she was going to have a
child - his child, not m ine. I left too, one m onth later.
‘I w ent to study at D uke University. She did not go back to
South Africa. I heard that she w ent to Bulawayo in Zim babw e,
and that she found a jo b ru n n in g a hotel there. I th in k she is
still there.’
H e stopped and looked at M m a R am otsw e. ‘T hat is the truth,
M m a,’ he said. ‘I did not kill him . I have told you the tru th .’
‘I know ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. She paused. ‘I am not going
to tell the police. I prom ised you that I w ould not. But I am
going to tell the m other w hat happened. I w ill ask her to m ake
the same prom ise - not to go to the police.’
‘A nd those girls?’ asked D r R anta. ‘T hey w on’t m ake trouble
for m e?’
‘N o ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘T here w ill be no trouble.’
‘But w hat about the letter?’ he asked. ‘T he one from the
other girl?’
M m a R am otsw e got up and opened the front door. M r JLB

62
H e had broken his neck when he fell, and he was not breathing.
M atekoni was sitting in the van. H e looked up w hen she opened
the door. She w alked out o f the house.
‘Well, D r R an ta,’ she said quietly. ‘I th in k you are a m an w ho
has lied to a lot o f people. Especially to w om en. N ow som ething
new has happened to you. A w om an has lied to you and you
have believed her. T here was no girl.’
She w alked to the van. D r R an ta stood at the door w atching
her. She knew he w ould not h u rt her. Actually, if he had a
conscience, he should be grateful to her. Now, finally, the events
o f ten years ago could rest in peace. B ut she doubted that he had
m uch o f a conscience.

C hapter 14 B ulaw ayo

She left early, w hen the sky was still dark. She drove the little
w hite van along the Francistow n R oad. Just before she passed
the road to M ochudi, the sun came up. For a few m inutes, the
whole w orld was gold - the tree, the grass, the dust. T he sun
was a great red ball in the sky. It w ent up slowly over Africa. As
it did, the natural colours o f the w orld returned.
M m a R am otsw e liked the drive to Francistown, although
today she was going further, over the border and into Zim babw e.
M r JLB M atekoni had not w anted her to go.
‘It is m ore dangerous than B otsw ana,’ he had said. ‘W hat will
happen if your van breaks dow n?’
She did not like him to worry, but it was im portant to make
it clear: she w ould m ake the decisions in these matters. You
could not let the husband m ake decisions for the N o. 1 Ladies’
D etective Agency. It was not called the No. 1 Ladies’ (and
H usband’s) D etective Agency. M r JLB M atekoni was a good
mechanic, but he was not a detective.
So she was driving to Bulawayo. By nine o ’clock, she was

64
passing th rough M ahalapye, w here her father, O bed R am otsw e,
had been born. If the little w hite van broke dow n, she could
knock on any door and expect to receive help.
She stopped at Francistown and drank a cup o f tea at a hotel.
T hen she crossed the border and drove into Bulawayo, a tow n o f
wide streets and leafy trees. She w ould stay w ith a friend here.

It was easy to find the South African w om an. M m a R am o tsw e’s

friend m ade some telephone calls and got the nam e and address
o f the hotel. It was an old but w ell-kept building and there was a
noisy bar som ewhere inside. T here was a sign w ith the nam e o f
the hotel m anager: Carla Smit. This was the end o f the search.
‘I am Carla. A nd you are ...? ’
M m a R am otsw e looked at the w om an sitting behind an
untidy desk. ‘She thinks I have com e for a jo b ,’ she thought.
‘M y nam e is Precious R am otsw e,’ she said. ‘I’m from
Gaborone. A nd I have not come to ask for a jo b .’
T he w om an smiled. ‘So m any people do,’ she said. ‘T here is
such terrible unem ploym ent.’
‘W e are lucky dow n there in Botsw ana,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘W e do not have these troubles.’
‘I know ,’ said Carla. ‘I lived there for a couple o f years. It was
a long tim e ago. B ut I hear that things haven’t changed m uch in
Botswana. T h a t’s w hy you are lucky.’
‘You preferred the old Africa?’
Carla answered carefully. ‘I was a South African, but I did
not like apartheid. I left South Africa to get away from it. N ot
all w hite people liked apartheid, you know .’
M m a R am otsw e had not w anted to embarrass her. ‘I didn’t
m ean that,’ she said. ‘I m eant the old Africa, w here there were
fewer people w ith o u t jobs. People had a place then. They
belonged to their village, to their family. T hey had their lands.’

65
 Carla relaxed. ‘Yes, but we cannot stop the world, can we?
Africa has these problems now. W e have to try to solve them .’
M m a R am otsw e looked at her hands, and began speaking.
‘Ten years ago, you lived out near M olepolole. You were there
w hen an A m erican nam ed M ichael C u rtin disappeared.’
She stopped. Carla was staring at her w ith w ide eyes.
‘I am not the police,’ said M m a R am otsw e quickly. ‘I have
not come here to question you.’
‘T h en w hy do you w ant to talk about that? It happened a long
tim e ago. H e disappeared. T h a t’s all.’
‘N o ,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘T hat is not all. I know w hat
happened. You and Oswald R an ta were there, in that hut, w hen
M ichael found you. H e fell into a ditch and broke his neck. You
hid the body because O swald was afraid that the police w ould
th in k he killed M ichael. T hat is w hat happened.’
Carla said nothing, but M m a R am otsw e could see that she
was shocked. D r R an ta had told the truth.
‘You did not kill M ichael,’ she said. ‘But you hid the body.
Because o f that, his m other never knew w hat had happened to
him . T hat was the w rong thing to do. But you can m ake things
better. A nd you can do it safely.’
‘W h at can I do?’ said Carla quietly.
‘You can end his m o th er’s search,’ she said. ‘She only wants to
say goodbye to her son. She just wants to know, th at’s all.’
‘I don’t know ,’ said Carla. ‘O swald w ould be angry ...’
M m a R am otsw e interrupted her. ‘O sw ald agrees.’
‘T h en w hy can’t he tell her?’ said Carla, suddenly angry. ‘He
did it. I only lied to protect him .’
‘Yes,’ said M m a R am otsw e. ‘It’s his fault. But he is not a good
man. H e cannot say he is sorry. But you can. You can m eet this
w om an and tell her w hat happened. A nd you can tell her that
you are sorry.’
Carla looked dow n. ‘I don’t see w hy .... It’s been such a long

66
tim e ...’
M m a R am otsw e stopped her. ‘A nd you are the m other o f her
grandchild, aren’t you? M m a C u rtin has no son now. But there
is a
‘Boy,’ said Carla. ‘H e is called M ichael too. H e is nine, almost
ten.’
M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘You must bring the child to
her, M m a,’ she said. ‘You are a m other. You know w hat that
m eans.’
M m a R am otsw e got up and w alked over to the w om an’s
desk.
‘You know you must do this,’ she said.
She took the w o m an ’s hand and held it gently. It was dark,
from sun and heat and hard work.
‘M m a C u rtin is ready to com e to B otsw ana,’ she said. ‘She
w ill come in a day or tw o if I tell her. C an you leave this place,
just for a few days?’
‘I have an assistant,’ said Carla. ‘She can ru n the hotel.’
‘A nd the boy, Michael? W on’t he be happy to see his
grandm other?’
Carla looked up at her.
‘Yes, M m a R am otsw e,’ she said. ‘You are right.’

M m a R am otsw e retu rn ed to G aborone late the next day. H er

m aid, Rose, had stayed in the house to look after the children.
T hey were asleep w hen M m a R am otsw e arrived hom e. She
w ent to their bedroom and listened to their soft breathing as
they slept. T hen, tired from the drive, she w ent to bed.
She was in the office early the next m orning. R ose w ould
take care o f the children. M m a M akutsi had arrived before her,
and was sitting at her desk, typing a report.
‘M r Badule,’ she said. ‘I am reporting the end o f the case.’

67
 ‘I thought you wanted me to handle that,’ said M m a Ramotswe.
‘I was not brave enough at first,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘B ut he
came in yesterday. You were not here and I had to talk to him .’
‘A nd?’ asked M m a R am otsw e.
‘A nd I told him that his wife was seeing another m an.’
‘W h at did he say?’
‘H e was upset. H e looked very sad.’
‘T h a t’s not surprising,’ said M m a R am otsw e.
‘Yes, but then I told him he should not do anything. I said his
wife was not seeing this m an for her ow n pleasure. I said she was
doing it for the son. She was seeing a rich m an so his son w ould
go to a good school.’
M m a R am otsw e was surprised. ‘H e believed that?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said M m a M akutsi. ‘H e seemed pleased. So now he
is happy, his wife is happy, and the boy can stay in the private
school. A nd the w ife’s lover and the w ife’s lover’s wife are also
happy. It is a good result.’
M m a R am otsw e was not so sure. T here was som ething
w ro n g w ith this solution. She w ould have to talk about it w ith
M m a M akutsi w hen they had m ore time.

Some days passed w ith no new clients. M m a M akutsi cleaned her

typ ew riter and bought some new tea things. M m a R am otsw e
w rote letters to old friends and added up the com pany’s money.
T here was not a lot, but they were not losing money, and she
had been happy and had done interesting things. T hat was as
im portant as m aking a lot o f money.
T hree days later, A ndrea C u rtin arrived. In the office o f the
N o. 1 Ladies’ D etective Agency, M rs C u rtin m et her grandson
and his m other. W hile Carla told her w hat had happened ten
years ago, M m a R am otsw e took the boy for a walk.
H e was a serious, polite boy, and he seemed interested in stones.

68
In theoffice o f the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, Mrs Curtin met
her grandson and his mother.
 As they walked, he stopped to look at or pick up small rocks.
‘I w ant to study geology,’ he told M m a R am otsw e. ‘There is
a geologist w ho stays in our hotel sometimes. He shows me how
to find interesting rocks.’
M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘T h a t’s like being a detective,’ she
said. ‘L ooking for things.’
W h en they returned, Carla and M rs C u rtin were sitting
together. T he older w om an looked peaceful and happy. M m a
R am otsw e knew that she had found w hat she was looking for.
T hey drank tea together quietly. T he boy had a gift for his
grandm other, a small stone anim al w hich he had made himself.
She took it, and kissed him , just like any other grandm other.
M m a R am otsw e also had a gift for the A m erican w om an. It
was a basket that she had bought on her way back from Bulawayo,
from a w om an sitting by the road. T he w om an was poor, and
M m a R am otsw e had w anted to help her. It was a traditional
Botsw ana basket, w ith a traditional picture on its side.
She explained the picture to M rs C urtin. ‘This is a giraffe,
and these little marks are the tears o f the giraffe. T he giraffe
gives its tears to the w om en and they put them in the basket.’
T he A m erican w om an took the basket politely, w ith both
hands, in the correct B otsw ana way.
‘You are very kind, M m a,’ she said. ‘But w hy did the giraffe
give its tears?’
M m a R am otsw e was surprised. She had never thought about
it. ‘I suppose it means that we can all give som ething,’ she said.
‘A giraffe has n o th in g else to give —only its tears.’
D id it really m ean that, she w ondered. For a m om ent, she
im agined a giraffe looking dow n from the trees. She thought o f
the beauty that there was in Africa, and the love.
T he boy looked at the basket. ‘Is that true, M m a?’
M m a R am otsw e smiled. ‘I hope so,’ she said.
 A C T IV IT IE S

Chapters 1-2
Before you read
1 Mma Ramotswe is a private detective in Botswana, in Africa.
What other famous detectives do you know? Where do they
solve crimes?
2 Look at the Word List at the back of the book. Check the
meaning of new words. Then answer these questions.
a Which are words for animals?
b Which are words for people?
c Which are words for groups of people working together?
3 Read the Introduction to this book. Then discuss what you have
learnt about:
a Mma Precious Ramotswe
b Alexander McCall Smith
c Botswana
4 Look at the map opposite page 1 of this book and find:
a a desert
b the capital of Botswana
c a road that connects a number of towns and cities

While you read

5 Choose the correct descriptions for each of these people.
Mr JLB Matekoni Mma Ramotswe Florence
Mma Makutsi Mrs Curtin Michael Burkhardt
a a German who lived on a farm .....................................
b the owner of a car repair business .....................................
c an American who disappeared .....................................
d Mma Ramotswe’s secretary .....................................
e Mr JLB Matekoni’s maid .....................................
f Botswana’s only female private
detective............................................... .....................................
g a woman who wants Mma
Ramotswe’s help................................. .....................................

71
After you read
6 Number these in the correct order. Write the numbers 1-8.
a Mma Makutsi cleans her typewriter.
b Mma Ramotswe agrees to help Mrs Curtin,
c Mma Ramotswe meets Florence,
d Mr JLB Matekoni decides his maid must go.
e Mr JLB Matekoni and Mma Ramotswe have lunch.
f Mr JLB Matekoni asks Mma Ramotswe to marry him..........
g Mr JLB Matekoni telephones Mma Ramotswe.
h The American woman tells her story.
7 Discuss these questions.
a Why has Mr JLB Matekoni never invited Mma Ramotswe to
his house?
b Why did Michael decide to stay in Botswana?
c Why does Mma Ramotswe call Mrs Curtin ‘my sister’?
d What happened to Michael, do you think?
e What can Mma Ramotswe do to help Mrs Curtin?

Chapters 3-4
Before you read
8 Mr JLB Matekoni regularly visits a farm where orphans live.
Why does he go there, do you think? What does he do there?

While you read

9 Are these sentences right (✓) or wrong (/)?
a People take their cars to Speedy Motors to make
them run faster,
b Mr JLB Matekoni has known Mrs Potokwane for a
long time.
c The girl in the wheelchair has no relatives,
d The girl does not say why she is in the wheelchair,
e Mma Ramotswe drives to Silokwolela alone,
f Mma Potsane is afraid of the commune at night,
g People do not live at the commune any more,
h Mma Potsane thinks the American boy ran away,
i Mma Potsane knows the people in the photograph.............

72
After you read
10 Put these words in the right sentences,
careless information noisy photograph
polite pump ring sweets water
a Mr JLB Matekoni thinks his assistants a re ....................
b Mr JLB gives s o m e ..................to the orphan children.
c Mma Potokwane has a b ro ke n ....................
d The girl in the wheelchair is v e ry ....................
e Her wheelchair i s ..................so Mr JLB Matekoni fixes it.
f The girl gives Mr JLB Matekoni s o m e ....................
g Mr JLB Matekoni has given Mma Ramotswe a ...................
h Mma Potsane gives Mma Ramotswe s o m e ....................
i Mma Ramotswe takes a ................... from the farm house.
11 Work with another student. Have this conversation.
Student A\ You are Mr JLB Matekoni. Tell your friend about
your problems with your assistants. Then ask
your friend what you should do about them.
Student B : You are Mr JLB Matekoni’s friend. Tell him what
you would do about his assistants if you were
him.

Chapters 5-6
Before you read
12 Discuss these questions.
a Read the title of Chapter 5. Who are the children, do you
think? What will you learn from their story?
b Read the title of Chapter 6. What will Mma Makutsi’s
promotion be, do you think? How will she feel about it?

While you read

13 Answer these questions.
a Who does Mr JLB Matekoni usually see on
Saturday mornings?............................ ....................................
b Who tells him the children’s story? ....................................
c Who did the bushmen bury? ....................................
d Who saved the boy? ....................................

73
 e How long did the children stay in
the hospital? .....................................
f Who told the orphan farm about
the children? .....................................
14 Who is speaking?
a This is not a chicken farm.’................ .....................................
b ‘Men choose the beautiful girls.’ .....................................
c ‘He is dead. But he is there.’.............. .....................................
d ‘I do not like the way he looks.’ .....................................
e ‘You will be an assistant detective.’ .....................................

After you read

15 Discuss the people below. Put these adjectives in a table like
the one below, and add other words.
uncomfortable intelligent cruel handsome
kind brave honest hard-working friendly

Mr JLB Mma the girl in the Oswald

Matekoni Makutsi wheelchair Ranta

16 Mr JLB Matekoni has agreed to take the children without telling

Mma Ramotswe. Do you think this is a mistake? Why (not)?
17 Work with another student. Have this conversation.
Student A: You are Mma Makutsi. Tell your friend about your
promotion. Talk about your feelings. Say what
you hope you will do.
Student B: You are Mma Makutsi’s friend. Give her some
advice about her new job.

Chapters 7-8
Before you read
18 Discuss these questions.
a In Chapter 7, Mma Makutsi gets her first case, about a
man who thinks his wife is seeing another man. What do
detectives usually do to solve cases like this?

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 b In Chapter 8, Mr JLB Matekoni takes the two children to
town for the first time. What will they do, do you think?

While you read

19 Which statements are correct? Write Yes or No.
a Mr Badule is not a very rich man.
b His son always did well in school,
c Thornhill is a good school,
d Mma Makutsi’s uncle is not interested in her work,
e Mma Makutsi’s uncle likes taking notes.
f The maids tell Mma Makutsi their employer’s name.............
g Mrs Badule often visits a married man.
h Mma Makutsi does not know what to do about
the case.
i Mr JLB Matekoni wants his foster son to be a mechanic.......
j The orphan girl thinks that machines are boring,
k Mr JLB Matekoni is embarrassed to see Mma
Ramotswe.

After you read

20 Who is speaking? Who are they talking to? What are they talking
about? Discuss these questions.
a ‘Aiee! What have we been doing?’
b ‘I do not want to run before I can walk.’
c ‘I have not been able to sleep.’
d ‘It is like a cloud on wheels.’
e ‘There is no shooting in Botswana.’
f ‘One day we will have more photographs.’
21 Imagine that you are Mma Ramotswe. Youhave just seen Mr
JLB Matekoni and the two children inthe street. Tellanother
student what is going through your mind.
22 Read Mma Makutsi’s report in Chapter 7 again. Then discuss
with other students what she should do.

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Chapters 9-10
Before you read
23 What do you think? Note down answers to these questions,
a How does Mr JLB Matekoni’s maid, Florence, feel about
Mr JLB Matekoni’s new children?
b How does she feel about Mma Ramotswe?
c What will Mma Ramotswe say about the children?
d Will the children like Mma Ramotswe? Why (not)?

While you read

24 Write the correct word in these sentences.
Mr JLB Matekoni’s maid, Florence, asks (a)......................................,
one of her lovers, to help her get a gun. He tells her that people
with illegal guns go to (b)........................................This makes her
happy, because she wants to hurt (c).......................................
Philemon has an extra gun, and he gives it to Florence in a
(d)..................................... shopping bag. Another friend,
(e) ......................................., has borrowed money from her. She
tells him that he does not need to return the money if he puts
the gun in Mma Ramotswe’s (f)........................................ He
agrees, but instead he calls the (g).......................................
25 Are these sentences right (✓) or wrong (X)?
a The children are too shy to speak to Mma Ramotswe.........
b Mma Ramotswe and Mr JLB Matekoni go to the post
office.
c Mr JLB Matekoni lies about the children,
d Mma Ramotswe is very angry with him.
e The children feel uncomfortable in Mma Ramotswe’s
house.
f The police have caught Mr JLB Matekoni’s maid.

After you read

26 Work with another student. Have this conversation.
Student A: You are Paul Monosopati. Explain to your friend
what Florence asked you to do and what you did.
Student B: You are a Paul’s friend. Ask him why he called
the police. Tell him what you think about that.

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Chapters 11-12
Before you read
27 Discuss these questions.
a What will Mma Ramotswe say to Mma Makutsi about Mr
Badule’s case?
b How will Mma Ramotswe get information from Oswald
Ranta?
c What will happen when Mr JLB Matekoni takes the two
children to Speedy Motors?

While you read

28 Circle the correct words.
a Mma Makutsi does not want to tell Mr Badule the truth /
follow Mma Ramotswe’s advice.
b Mma Ramotswe tells Oswald Ranta that she is a detective /
a student.
c Oswald Ranta is afraid that Mma Ramotswe will talk to
Mrs Curtin / the police.
d The boy / The girl helps Mr JLB Matekoni work on an
engine.

After you read

29 Choose the correct endings to these sentences.
a Oswald Ranta likes to draw,
b The Information woman enjoys mechanical work,
c Angel is a ladies’ man.
d Puso is afraid to complain,
e Motholeli is leaving the job.
30 Discuss these questions.
a What does Mma Ramotswe think they should do about Mr
Badule? Do you agree that this is the best thing to do?
b Mma Ramotswe thinks she is blackmailing Oswald
Ranta. How is she blackmailing him? Is it ever right to use
blackmail to get what you want?

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Chapters 13-14
Before you read
31 In Chapter 13, Mma Ramotswe finds out what happened to
Michael Curtin. Which of these answers is the most likely, do
you think? Can you think of other possibilities?
a Michael was murdered,
b Michael was killed by an animal,
c Michael ran away.
32 Chapter 14 is called Bulawayo. Find the city on the map
opposite page 1. Where is it?

While you read

33 Complete the story about Michael Curtin. Write one or two
words in each space.
Dr Ranta was studying the commune for the (a)....................
He was friendly with everyone at the commune except
(b)........... ........The American boy, Michael, began to share a
room with (c)..........................Thenshe also becameinterested in
(d)............. ......One night, Michael found them together inside a
(e)....................He ran into the bush and fell into a (f).....................
His (g).................. was broken and he died. Dr Ranta hid the
body in an (h) Heand Carla said (i)...................to
the police. Then Carla left and had a ( j) ....................
34 Correct these sentences. Write the correct words.
a Carla now runs a farm in Bulawayo. ..................
b At first, Carla first thinks that Mma Ramotswe
wants money. ..................
c Carla thinks that Mma Ramotswe should tell
Mrs Curtin about Michael’s death......................... ..................
d Mma Ramotswe says that Carla’s grandson
should meet Mrs Curtin. ..................
e The boy, Michael, gives a gift to Mma
Ramotswe..................................................................................
f Mma Ramotswe’s gift to Mrs Curtin has a
picture of a tree on it.............................................. ..................

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After you read
35 Discuss these questions.
a Mma Ramotswe thinks there is something wrong with their
solution to Mr Badule’s problem. Why does she think this?
b At the end of the story, what more would you like to know
about the characters?

W riting
36 You are Motholeli. You have just begun to live at Mma
Ramotswe’s house. Write a letter to Mma Potokwane and tell
her about your new home and your new family.
37 Write a telephone conversation between Carla Smit, in
Zimbabwe, and her mother in South Africa, explaining how
young Michael met his other grandmother.
38 You are a journalist. Write a report for your newspaper about
Florence Peko’s arrest. Include interviews with Paul Monosopati
and the policeman he called.
39 You are Mr Badule. Mma Makutsi has told you about your
wife and your son. You have tried to accept the situation, but
something else has happened. Write a letter to Mma Makutsi
and tell her about it.
40 You are Mma Ramotswe. Write a reply to Mma Makutsi’s report
on pages 33 and 34. Give your own ideas about what Mma
Makutsi should do.
41 What picture does the book paint of the natural world in
Botswana? How important is it to the story?
42 What have you learnt about Botswana and people’s lifestyles
from this book? Write a list of interesting information.
43 You are a journalist. Write a magazine report about Mma
Ramotswe and the No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. Include
information that she has given you.
44 Which is your favourite character in this book? Which one is
your least favourite? Why? Write about them.
45 Explain why you think that people around the world enjoy
reading McCall Smith’s stories about Mma Ramotswe and her
friends.

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 W O R D L IS T

agency (n) a business that sells a service to people or organisations

ant (n) a very small insect that lives in a large group. Ants live under
piles o f dirt called anthills,
apartheid (n) the old way o f life in South Africa, when white people
and black people had to live and study separately
arrest (n/v) the act o f taking someone away to a police station because
they have done something illegal
blackmail (n/v) the act o f trying to make someone do something for
you by saying that you will tell other people their secrets
bury (v) to put something under the ground and cover it with earth
bush (n) in Africa, wild country that has not been cleared for farming
carbolic soap (n) a strong type o f soap
case (n) an event, or a number o f events, that police or detectives are
trying to learn more about; a situation that exists
charity (n) an organisation that gives money or help to people who
need it
client (n) someone who pays for your help
commune (n) a group o f people who live together and share the work
and the things that they own
conscience (n) the part o f your mind that tells you if something is right
or wrong
ditch (n) a long narrow hole, often at the side o f a road or a field
embassy (n) a group of officials who work for their government in a
foreign country, or the building where these people work
engaged (adj) going to be married
foster child (n) a child who has been taken into someone else’s family
for some time, but is not legally their child
game (n) wild animals that people hunt for food or sport. A game
tracker helps hunters find game,
geology (n) the study o f rocks and the way they have changed since
the earth began
giraffe (n) a tall African animal with a very long neck that eats leaves
from trees