I employee a few staff. Well, three actually. A cook, who is bloody
good. A gardener who treats my garden as an extension of his farm
and a night-watchman. My night-watchman is from the north of the
country. And people from Northern tribes have the reputation of
being good watchman. The local Ashanti's are apparently not good
watchmen, they always fall asleep. Which is what happened when my
last flat was burgled. The night watchman was an Ashanti and he
slept through the whole affair.
It is striking how much is placed on where you are from and what
your tribe is. For a middle classed Englander, the thought of belonging
to anything beyond the nuclear family is unknown.
When I met some fellow from South London and invited him back for
a beer, my maid at the time demanded to know who this man was. She
was horrified that I had just met a stranger on the street and here
he was in my house. I told her he was from London and seemed all
right, but she became cross and demanded to know what tribe in London
he was from. She couldn't understand that in Britain people don't
belong to tribes.
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