They studied the house, in the dim light of the streetlamp, an undistinguished building with a standard red-tiled roof and unkempt garden.
“He obviously does not employ a gardener,” observed Mma Ramotswe. “Look at the mess.”
It was inconsiderate not to have a gardener if, like Dr. Ranta, you were in a well-paid white-collar job. It was a social duty to employ domestic staff, who were readily available and desperate for work. Wages were low – unconscionable so, thougth Mma Ramotswe – but at least the system created jobs. If everybody with a job had a maid, then that was food going into the mouths of the maids and their children. If everybody did their own housework and tended their own gardens, then what were the people who were maids and gardeners to do?
By not cultivating his garden, Dr. Ranta showed himself to be selfish, which did not surprise Mma Ramostswe at all.
“Too selfish,” remarked Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,”said Mma Ramotswe.”
Tears of the Giraffe, by Alexander McCall Smith
setting: present day Botswana
