In the Company of Cheerful Ladies by Alexander McCall Smith Page B
Authors: Alexander McCall Smith
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery Fiction, Political, Women Private Investigators, Botswana, No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (Imaginary organization), Ramotswe; Precious (Fictitious character), Women private investigators - Botswana
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I was not sent to prison for dishonesty, he said. But there are honest men in prison, by the way. There are some very dishonest men there, and some very
1
bad men. But there are also men who are there because of other
things that they did.
They waited for him to continue, but he did not.
So, said Mma Ramotswe. What did you do, Rra? Why did they send you to prison?
Mr Polopetsi looked at his hands. I was sent to prison because of an accident.
Mma Makutsi turned to look at him. An accident? They sent you instead of somebody else?
No, said the man. I was sent to prison because there was an accident while I was in charge of something. It was my fault, and a person was killed. It was an accident, but they said that it would not have happened had I been more careful.
They were nearing Tlokweng now, and Mma Ramotswe had to ask for directions to the mans house. He pointed to a dusty side-road, not much more than a bumpy track, and she drove the tiny white van down that, trying to avoid the larger holes in the ground. If there was a grader in Tlokweng, then it must rarely have bothered to come this way.
Our road is not very good, said Mr Polopetsi. When it rains all these holes fill up with water and you can go fishing if you like.
Mma Makutsi laughed. I have lived along a road like this in the past, she said. I know what it is like.
Yes, said Mr Polopetsi. It is not easy. He stopped, and pointed at a house a short way down the road. That is my place.
It was a simple, two-room house, and Mma Ramotswe could see that it was in need of painting; the lower part of the outside walls was specked with dried red mud, which had been splashed up at the last rains. The yard, which was small, was well-swept, which suggested that there was a conscientious woman in charge of it, and there was a small chicken coop to one side, again well-kept.
This is a very tidy place, said Mma Ramotswe. It is good to see a place that is well-kept, as this one is.
5 2
It is my wife, said Mr Polopetsi. She is the one who keeps this place so clean.
You must be proud of her, Rra, said Mma Makutsi.
And she must be proud of you, said Mma Ramotswe.
There was silence for a moment. Then Mr Polopetsi spoke. Why do you say that, Mma? he asked.
Because you are a good man, said Mma Ramotswe quietly. That is why I said that. You may have been in prison for two years, but I can tell that you are a good man.
THEY LEFT Mr Polopetsi in his house and drove back down the pothole-ridden road. The bicycle was still in the back of the tiny white van and Mma Ramotswe had agreed with Mr Polopetsi that she would take it to be fixed the following day and bring it out to him when it was ready. As he had stepped out of the van, she had offered him money to compensate him for the accident, but he had shaken his head.
I can tell when something is an accident, he said. And people are not to blame for accidents. I know that.
She had not pressed the matter. This man had his pride, and it would have been rude for her to persist. So they agreed about the bicycle and left him outside his house. They were largely silent as they drove back. Mma Ramotswe was thinking of Mr Polopetsi, and his house, and the humiliation that he had suffered
in his life. That must have been why he was in tears after the accident; it was just one more thing that he had to bear. Of course they had heard only his side of the story of the prison sentence.
Surely people were not sent to prison in Botswana for nothing? She knew that they could be proud of their system of justiceof their judges who would not kow-tow to anybody, who were not afraid of criticising the Government. There were so
3
many countries where this was not so, where the judges were browbeaten or chosen from amongst the ranks of the party faithful,
but this had never been the case in Botswana. So surely these judges would never
1
bad men. But there are also men who are there because of other
things that they did.
They waited for him to continue, but he did not.
So, said Mma Ramotswe. What did you do, Rra? Why did they send you to prison?
Mr Polopetsi looked at his hands. I was sent to prison because of an accident.
Mma Makutsi turned to look at him. An accident? They sent you instead of somebody else?
No, said the man. I was sent to prison because there was an accident while I was in charge of something. It was my fault, and a person was killed. It was an accident, but they said that it would not have happened had I been more careful.
They were nearing Tlokweng now, and Mma Ramotswe had to ask for directions to the mans house. He pointed to a dusty side-road, not much more than a bumpy track, and she drove the tiny white van down that, trying to avoid the larger holes in the ground. If there was a grader in Tlokweng, then it must rarely have bothered to come this way.
Our road is not very good, said Mr Polopetsi. When it rains all these holes fill up with water and you can go fishing if you like.
Mma Makutsi laughed. I have lived along a road like this in the past, she said. I know what it is like.
Yes, said Mr Polopetsi. It is not easy. He stopped, and pointed at a house a short way down the road. That is my place.
It was a simple, two-room house, and Mma Ramotswe could see that it was in need of painting; the lower part of the outside walls was specked with dried red mud, which had been splashed up at the last rains. The yard, which was small, was well-swept, which suggested that there was a conscientious woman in charge of it, and there was a small chicken coop to one side, again well-kept.
This is a very tidy place, said Mma Ramotswe. It is good to see a place that is well-kept, as this one is.
5 2
It is my wife, said Mr Polopetsi. She is the one who keeps this place so clean.
You must be proud of her, Rra, said Mma Makutsi.
And she must be proud of you, said Mma Ramotswe.
There was silence for a moment. Then Mr Polopetsi spoke. Why do you say that, Mma? he asked.
Because you are a good man, said Mma Ramotswe quietly. That is why I said that. You may have been in prison for two years, but I can tell that you are a good man.
THEY LEFT Mr Polopetsi in his house and drove back down the pothole-ridden road. The bicycle was still in the back of the tiny white van and Mma Ramotswe had agreed with Mr Polopetsi that she would take it to be fixed the following day and bring it out to him when it was ready. As he had stepped out of the van, she had offered him money to compensate him for the accident, but he had shaken his head.
I can tell when something is an accident, he said. And people are not to blame for accidents. I know that.
She had not pressed the matter. This man had his pride, and it would have been rude for her to persist. So they agreed about the bicycle and left him outside his house. They were largely silent as they drove back. Mma Ramotswe was thinking of Mr Polopetsi, and his house, and the humiliation that he had suffered
in his life. That must have been why he was in tears after the accident; it was just one more thing that he had to bear. Of course they had heard only his side of the story of the prison sentence.
Surely people were not sent to prison in Botswana for nothing? She knew that they could be proud of their system of justiceof their judges who would not kow-tow to anybody, who were not afraid of criticising the Government. There were so
3
many countries where this was not so, where the judges were browbeaten or chosen from amongst the ranks of the party faithful,
but this had never been the case in Botswana. So surely these judges would never
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