Many of her clients referred to advice from friends, and in her experience this advice was often wrong. Friends tried to be helpful, but tended to misadvise, largely because they had unrealistic ideas of what the friend whom they were advising was really like. Mma Ramotswe believed that it was usually better to seek the advice of a stranger-not just any stranger, of course, as one could hardly go out onto the street and confide in the first person one encountered, but a stranger whom you knew to be wise. We do not talk about wise men or wise ladies any more, she reflected; their place had been taken, it seemed, by all sorts of shallow people-actors and the like-who were only too ready to pronounce on all sorts of subjects. It was worse, she thought, in other countries, but it was beginning to happen in Botswana and she did not like it. She, for one, would never pay any attention to the views of such people; she would far rather listen to a person who had done something real in life; these people knew what they were talking about.

“I’m not sure if you should worry too much about what your friends think, Mma,” she said. “I think that it is a good idea to have a list. What is the difference between a list of things to buy at a shop, or a list of things to do, and a list of men? I do not see the difference.”

“I am glad that you think that,” said Mma Holonga. “In fact, I have been glad to hear everything that you have said.”

Mma Ramotswe was always embarrassed by compliments, and rapidly went on.

“You must tell me about this list,” she said. “And you must tell me about what you want me to do.”

“I want you to find out about these men,” said Mma Holonga. “I want you to see which men are interested in my money and which are interested in me.”