The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon by Alexander McCall Smith Page B

terror. People had died simply because they received such things. There was no scientific reason for them to do so, but the heart and the head were not the same thing in the darkness of the night.
    ‘Was there anything with the feather?’ she asked. ‘Any
muti
?’ She used the word commonly used for such things.
Muti
was at the heart of curses and spells – at least for those who believed in such things, which she did not. But she knew very well that it took only a handful of gullible people to give a witchdoctor his lucrative practice.
    Mma Soleti shook her head. ‘I did not know what the feather meant, and so I took it to a person I know who is a big expert in birds. He took one look at it and told me. It was a feather from a ground hornbill.’
    Mma Ramotswe let out a sigh. ‘So, they have sent you a sign from that bird.’
    Mma Soleti nodded miserably. ‘I threw it away immediately. I washed my hands, more than once – three or four times, I think – but I had already touched it. I already had had it in my pocket.’
    Mma Ramotswe tried to make light of the incident. ‘But, Mma, listen to me: I know people say that this poor bird is bad luck, that it will bring all sorts of bad things —’
    ‘Including death,’ interjected Mma Soleti. ‘If that bird comes to your house then…’
    Mma Ramotswe wagged a finger. ‘Hush, Mma! That is complete nonsense. It is untrue. How can an innocent bird bring death? That is nonsense.’
    ‘It is not innocent,’ said Mma Soleti. ‘It is a wicked bird.’
    ‘A bird cannot be wicked. It cannot.’ She paused. ‘Birds don’t think, Mma. Look at their heads – they are very small. All that a bird can think about is food and things like that. They do not think about harming people.’
    Mma Soleti was not convinced. ‘Even if a bird can do nothing, a person can. And there is some person somewhere who wants to frighten me, who would like me to be late.’
    Mma Ramotswe became firmer. ‘No, Mma, you cannot say that. You cannot say that there is anybody who wishes you to become late. There is some person – some very foolish and childish person – who wants to frighten you, yes. But what power has that person got if you refuse to be frightened? A rock rabbit, a tiny little
dassie
, can laugh at a leopard. Even he will not be frightened if he does not let himself feel that way.’
    ‘Until the leopard eats him,’ said Mma Soleti.
    ‘I think my example was not very good,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘But look at…’ She racked her brains for a more suitable example. Surely there were instances of small and plucky people standing up to larger bullies and facing them down, but now that she needed them she could not bring any to mind. Meerkats were plucky, no doubt about that, but when they saw the shadow of a hawk they ran for cover.
    ‘So what do I do, Mma Ramotswe?’
    ‘Ignore it,’ she answered. ‘If you ignore stupid people, they lose interest. That is very well known, Mma.’
    ‘Is it, Mma?’
    Mma Ramotswe was adamant. ‘Definitely, Mma. It is definitely well known throughout Botswana and, I’m sure, elsewhere.’
    Then her example came to her: Sir Seretse Khama, the first President of Botswana. People had tried to frighten him when he declared his intention of marrying Ruth, the woman from a very different background whom he loved. Everybody had leaned on him, scolded and cajoled him, including the tribal elders of the Bamangwato people, for whom he was royalty; the British and the South Africans had done the same. But he had refused to be cowed and had triumphed in the end, creating modern Botswana, with all that it stood for in terms of decency and courage.
    ‘Think of Seretse Khama,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘What would he say to you, Mma?’
    Mma Soleti looked nonplussed.
    ‘I’ll tell you, Mma,’ supplied Mma Ramotswe. ‘He would say: Do not be afraid of people who lurk in the shadows. Stand up for what you believe in. The people in the