Mma Ramotswe wanted to defend her old friend against such attack, but could not; she felt too miserable for that. She knew, too, that from whatever angle she considered the matter, the answer would be the same: she would have to go to Mma Sebina and announce that she had not found her brother after all. And then she would have to tell Mr. Sekape, too, that there had been a misunderstanding and he was, once again, alone.

When she first heard about Mma Potokwane’s mistake, her initial thought was that it might not be a bad thing after all. The meeting that she had set up between Mma Sebina and Mr. Sekape had not been the success she had envisaged, and at first she wondered whether Mma Sebina, having found a brother, would prove to be quite happy to lose him again. After all, when she had eventually located Mma Sebina and brought her to the office to meet Mr. Sekape, the encounter between the two long-lost siblings had been far from the emotionally charged reunion Mma Ramotswe had expected. Mr. Sekape had stood up, barely looking at his new-found sister, and had extended his hand for a formal handshake. For her part, Mma Sebina had been largely silent, replying to his questions in a voice which both Mma Ramotswe and Mr. Sekape himself had had to struggle to hear. There had been no effusive expressions of sentiment; no exchanges of embraces; just rather stiff social formalities. Where did you go to school, Mma? Did you ever meet anybody who knew our mother? Do you think that we might have some uncles on our father’s side? These were the questions which formed the conversation between the two.

And at the back of Mma Ramotswe’s mind, as she listened to this, was the thought of what Mr. Sekape had said earlier on in the van. Mma Ramotswe understood that there were some men who did not like women, just as there were some women who did not like men. But she had never encountered somebody who had spelled that out so clearly; and even if one were to give Mr. Sekape some credit for honesty, all that credit would rapidly be offset by the discredit he would get for writing off half of humanity in such firm and unfriendly terms. If he were my brother, thought Mma Ramotswe, I would settle that issue right at the beginning.