“The lorry dropped me at the small roadside market called Waya which had sprung up to serve the Grammar School. Something unusual seemed to be going on in Josiah's shop-and-bar. Whatever it was had drawn crowds from the rest of the market to it. You couldn't say definitely at first whether it was a good thing or a bad from the loud, excited talking, but it was soon clear from the kind of gesticulation I saw that something had gone wrong. I saw one old woman swing her hand in a gyre round her hea...d and jerk it towards Josiah's shop, a most ominous sign. 'Teacher,' said one villager who had spotted me and was coming to shake hands. I didn't know him by name. 'Are you back already? Let me carry your box. I hope your home people are well.' We shook hands and I told him that my home people were well when I left them. Then I asked him what was going on there at the shop. 'What else could it be but Josiah,' he said, taking up my box and placing it on his head. 'I have said that what the white man's money will bring about has not shown itself yet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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