Chapter 1

‘The Wife of a Bechuanaland Civil Servant’.

Africa was changing. She had to. The old empires were crumbling. In some parts the change was chaotic, violent even. But in the British Protectorate of Bechuanaland things had changed relatively peacefully.

Samuel Fitzgerald had joined the Bechuanaland Civil Service straight from university. He wasn’t the brightest spark but he had never needed to be. The Bechuanaland Civil Service was a pretty undemanding career.

The local tribal chieftains had always been fairly happy to have the protection of England. Protection from other more, shall we say, aggressive European colonial powers. Britain had never gained much from protecting Bechuanaland other than frustrating these other powers.

The downside was that the English had never had any incentive to put much into Bechuanaland and therefore it was the least developed of all the African territories.

By the 1960s the ‘Wind of Change’ was definitely blowing through Africa. While many European countries, including Britain, sought to slow up, influence or even halt this change the independence movement in Bechuanaland found little resistance.

So, in 1966 the Republic of Botswana was born.

The British Government continued to fund the new country for the first five years. Consequently the infant government adopted many of the institutions of their former protectors. This included the newly created Civil Service of the Republic of Botswana.

Now, because in many instances the aforementioned Samuel Fitzgerald was the only person who had a bloody clue how the Civil Service worked, he had been invited to stay on as Civil Service Advisor to the Government of the Republic of Botswana.

Ever since he had arrived in Bechuanaland with his new wife, Agnes, Samuel’s life had been pretty idyllic.

He was well respected. Not so much for what he did as much as what he represented, the stability of the British Empire. Samuel spent no more than four hours a day on the tedious work of the Civil Service. The rest of the time Agnes and he spent at the Civil Service Club, which was totally financed by the Colonial Office in London, where they played bridge or tennis or swam or drank cocktails.

You may be wondering, from what I have told you, how a Civil Service Club could possibly survive given the minute size of the Bechuanaland Civil Service. The truth was that membership of the club was open to all British expatriates. As a result there were many more merchants, engineers or salesmen than actual civil servants. None of these gentlemen were of the first order which was how they had ended up in this part of Africa.

Samuel Fitzgerald and Agnes had the use of a pleasant government owned fully furnished single-storied house on the outskirts of Gaborone. Life was easy there. They employed a cook and several ‘house boys’ who took care of the building and gardens. These servants lived in the nearby village.

Most evenings, Agnes would pour gins and tonic which the couple would drink while they watched the sun go down. After that they would invariably make love on the veranda as darkness fell.

Sex was Agnes’ overriding passion. Fortunately, it was Samuel’s too. Neither of them had ever lost the lustful desire for each other.

While Agnes was not in any way fat she did have a voluptuousness about her.

This, coupled with her flaming red hair, made every local man turn and stare at her as she passed by. And not just the local men either. Of course, she was flattered by all of this but Samuel provided all the sexual excitement that she needed.

One evening, as she poured their drinks, Samuel accidentally knocked over both glasses.

“Oh, bugger!” Agnes exclaimed.

“Sorry, clumsy me!” said Samuel.

Agnes looked around for the domestic help but realised that she would have to deal with it herself. Remembering that outdoor cleaning items were kept in a cupboard to one side of the veranda, she went to fetch a mop.