The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection: No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (13) Read Free Page B

orphan farm. They are good people, and they like the orphans. They work very hard.”
    “Of course they do,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I know some of those people on your board. They are on many boards—working very hard for their causes.”
    Mma Potokwane agreed that this was so. She very rarely had any disagreement with her board, she said, but unfortunately a major disagreement had emerged over a decision that Mr. Ditso Ditso had talked the board into making. “We were given a very big grant by a diamond company recently,” said Mma Potokwane. “The board had to decide what to do with all the money. Rra Ditso came up with a project, although he did not consult me—not once. He said the money should be used for building purposes. I had no objection to that: we could do with a few more houses for the children to live in. But then he decided that it would be something quite different, and that was when everything began to be not quite so good.”
    “He has chosen something unsuitable?” asked Mma Ramotswe.
    Mma Potokwane raised her eyebrows. “Unsuitable is not a strong enough word, Mma. His choice is a disaster—a very big disaster.”
    Mr. Ditso Ditso, Mma Potokwane went on to reveal, had decided that the orphan farm needed a dining hall and a modern kitchen to serve it. This would mean that all the food could be cooked in one place, and that would mean a considerable saving could be made. “It is always cheaper to do everything in one place,”he said to the board. “I have always done that in my business, and it has made me a rich man. Do everything at the same time, in the same place, and your costs go down. If your costs go down, then your profits go up.”
    These words, reported verbatim by Mma Potokwane, hung in the air. There was something wrong with them, thought Mma Ramotswe; they might apply to a business, but … but was an orphan farm a
business
?
    Mma Potokwane sensed the reservation. “If you’re wondering whether that’s the right way to run an orphan farm, Mma, then you are right to think that. We are not a business.”
    “You are a home,” said Mma Makutsi.
    “That is exactly right,” said Mma Potokwane. “We are a home, and although we like to keep our costs down, there are other things to consider.”
    “The house-mothers …,” began Mma Ramotswe.
    “Yes, Mma,” said Mma Potokwane. “As you know, we have little houses where the children live. They are not big—just eight to ten children in each, and one house-mother for each.”
    “They are very good ladies,” said Mma Ramotswe.
    “Yes, they are. I choose them very carefully. Not everybody can be a house-mother. A lady must be kind if she is to be a house-mother. She must also be able to control the children. She must know what it is like to have no parents, and she must make allowances. There are many things for a good house-mother to keep in mind. It is not easy.”
    “But it works,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I have seen those ladies, and they are very fine people. The children love them.” She frowned. “Surely the board doesn’t want to do away with your house-mothers. Who would there be to love the children?”
    Mma Potokwane assured her that the board had no intention of getting rid of house-mothers; there would still be plenty of work forthem to do. “They keep the houses clean. They mend the children’s clothes. There are many things. But the big thing, Mma, the big thing they do is they cook the children’s food and they eat it together, round a table, like a real family.”
    “And if there is a new hall and a kitchen—”
    Mma Potokwane became animated. “That will all go, Mma Ramotswe! That will go! And if that happens, then the heart of our place will be …” She searched for the right words. “It will stop beating. There will be no heart any more.”
    Mma Ramotswe looked down at her hands. Of course Mma Potokwane was right: your family was made up of the people you ate with as a child. Everybody knew