The Colours of all the Cattle by Alexander McCall Smith

Author:Alexander McCall Smith [Smith, Alexander McCall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2018-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Tell Them You Believe in Progress

The first meeting of the Elect Mma Ramotswe committee took place at mid-morning the following day, chaired by Mma Potokwani. As well as Mma Makutsi, of course, who had agreed to act as secretary to the committee, the membership had expanded to include Mr Polopetsi, who had been extremely excited to hear of Mma Ramotswe’s nomination, and Charlie and Fanwell, who had promised to devote their evenings to leafleting and going from house to house to canvass votes. Mma Ramotswe herself was on the committee, of course, although Mma Potokwani now insisted on calling her ‘the candidate’ rather than ‘Mma Ramotswe’. Only Mr J. L. B. Matekoni did not participate. He had been invited, but had thought it better to distance himself. ‘We do not want people thinking that we’re trying to start a dynasty,’ he explained. ‘You know how you get those politicians who are sons of other politicians and grandsons of even more politicians. I do not think that is very democratic, and so I shall not be involved in this campaign, even if I fully support it and put the whole resources of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors behind it.’

That was a fairly long speech for Mr J. L. B. Matekoni, and nobody had wanted to argue with the logic – or the dignity – that underpinned it. And so the leadership of the group, which he, as spouse of the candidate, might have been expected to assume, passed naturally to Mma Potokwani, whose idea the whole thing had been in the first place.

There was an air of almost palpable excitement in the room when Mma Potokwani entered. She was the last to arrive, and the others were all in their places when she came in and seated herself in the chair beside Mma Ramotswe’s desk. Mma Makutsi was in her usual place, Mr Polopetsi was standing by a filing cabinet, and Charlie and Fanwell were squatting on the ground in that effortless pose adopted by those who hamstrings had yet to seize.

Mma Potokwani cleared her throat, looked about her, and then, in a voice that Mma Makutsi thought was a little bit louder than the occasion required, called the meeting to order.

Charlie looked sideways at Fanwell. ‘But there was no disorder,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see any.’

Mma Potokwani gave him a warning glance. ‘That’s how meetings begin, Charlie,’ she said. ‘The chairman calls the meeting to order. That’s the signal for everybody to stop talking.’

‘But nobody was talking,’ protested Charlie. ‘Nobody said a thing, did they, Fanwell?’

Fanwell did not want to be drawn in. He looked away.

‘And anyway,’ Charlie continued, ‘there is no chairman here, Mma. You are a lady. You are not a man.’

Mma Makutsi drew in her breath. ‘Charlie,’ she hissed. ‘There is no call for disrespect.’

‘It was not disrespect, Mma Makutsi,’ Charlie retorted. ‘I’m just pointing something out. You yourself have often said it’s important to be accurate.’

Mma Makutsi sighed. ‘You don’t understand, Charlie. The word chairman covers both men and women.

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