misunderstanding

"Mai S --," she says. I stop in my tracks with dread. I know what is coming: my housekeeper wants more money. As do all the state utilities, my son's school, the council...

"Am I not working nicely for you?" she says. "I am working since end of 2005 for you, is it not true?"

"Yes," I say. She never steals, which most madams would count a huge plus. But it's more than that: I know she makes my life easy.

She takes a breath. "It's just...You give me no present and Mr B: he gives Ruth candles and mealie-meal. If he does not have time to go to shops, he gives Ruth and Farai some dollars extra. Every month."

Mr B is a top local official. He has -- or had -- a farm and a plot (not two farms, lest any man should wonder), a chicken-packing business, several houses and a generous millionaire (yes, really) brother in South Africa (who comes complete with 'plane)

"Mr B has more money than we do," I say. "We don't have much at the moment. That's why we couldn't have Tommy (the gardener) work for us any more, remember?"

"It's not a problem," she says (what, really?). "It's just I need to know if I am working nicely. The money is not a problem, Mai Sammy. It is not a problem."

Suddenly I realise just how wrong I was. She isn't actually asking for a raise (though I'm sure one would come in handy): she wants the simple satisfaction of knowing I like her, and like the job she does for me.