Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

I laid my hand on Kisula's arm and reached over with the other and gently took the coffee pot from him. And then I pulled him over to the chair next to mine at the table and gently pushed him down into the seat with my hand now on his shoulder.

Kisula sat as if in a trance. His face was frozen in shock. I put a coffee cup and saucer in front of him and slowly poured him a cup of coffee. All the time, I could not bring myself to look at Thornton.

I started to speak. "I'm sorry, Mr. Thornton, but it's time for the change. We must change ahead of a forced transition that will take the company out of our hands, whether we like it or not. Kisula is the son of a chief of the Sukuma. They will own and control all of the coffee plantations in this region soon—perhaps within a couple of years. It's time to wake up to reality. Kisula is my partner. We can't do better than to start including him and the Sukuma in our plans."

It was only when I had finished this speech, delivered rapidly, almost in one breath, for fear that if I had stopped, I could not complete it, that I looked up, first at Kisula and then at Sydney Thornton.

Kisula still sat, in shock. But he sat tall. All of the Sukuma sat tall. They were a proud people, with every right to be.

But when I looked at Thornton, what I saw was not at all what I expected to see. He was smiling. Not a broad smile, but a small, knowing smile.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, I—" I started to say, the horror of what I had done beginning to dawn on me.

"Not at all. I quite agree," Sydney Thornton said. "I rather hoped we could start talking about how we maximized our position in the inevitable transition to independence in Tanzania. I welcome Mr. . . . um, Mr. Kisula to the discussions."

I sat there, paralyzed at the moment. He didn't fully understand. Should I leave it like this? No, I had come this far; it wasn't fair to Kisula to leave it like this.

"I don't think you completely understand what I'm trying to say, Mr. Thornton." I said, and then I raced ahead lest I never would say it. "Kisula is my partner, my full partner. My life's partner. No, Kisula is the master of my life. If you wish me to tender my—"

"Let's have none of that, young man," Thornton interrupted in an amused voice. I was taken aback by the hint of a twinkle in his eye. "Perhaps, Mr. Woolston . . . Clive. Perhaps when you come up to Mount Meru next, you and Kisula will be kind enough to come out to my plantation. There you can meet my Maasai wife. She too is my master, and our coffee plantations are already registered in her name. You see, Clive, there's a reason I have never gone back to England in all of these years. I too, just like you, am now married fully—and quite happily—to Tanzania."