By Debbie Olujobi

A fools paradise is a reality that is beautiful and perfect, supporting values and beliefs that project an illusion of peace; it is tailor made to suit the dreams and aspirations of its owner, it has one fatal flaw; its not real. Almost a decade ago I was accused of living in a fools paradise by a friend on a visit to my home back then. He liked the harmony we enjoyed but felt there was way too much familiarity between me and my domestic staff; “there is a line of authority that you are letting them cross and I am sure you will someday regret it”. I had explained that I didn’t hold any supremacist values and that I believed that save for grace and a lottery of birth we were all one and the same, at least before God.

In stark contrast to my very informal setting my friend who was married to another friend of mine kept a house that was in my view very regimented. All members of staff were required to wear uniforms, lived in staff quarters, ate different meals and didn’t mix with the family. We had similar staff strength, paid same salaries but ran completely different homes. They were not in any way unkind to their staff, they just kept them in their place as do almost everyone else I know. To quote my friend “Nothing you do will ever make them see you as one of them; they are not here for love, they would not stay if you didn’t pay and they will band together against you; truth is “there is them and there is Us”.

The brotherhood of men is a myth if our class, religion or other artificial lines separate us and I was brought up in a household that’s identical to mine. Looking back I would say it was almost a commune as there really was no difference between us and the domestic staff. We all had chores, we all cleaned and cooked. We ate the same and pretty much were the same; the life I live now is the life I know. My house was always fun, it was full of people and laughter and everyone loved to visit; most of my friends preferred to be in my house than theirs. Putting staff in uniform feels like slavery to me and I doubt I could ever do it. If I look back realistically the informal nature of my house created challenges and that is understating the fact. I personally hated the invasion of my private space, the loss of the countless number of stuff that was stolen and the permanent drama that was the nature of so many personalities that seemed to always run riot in the house. In my own home, I guarded my privacy from outsiders but my structures and boundaries lacked definition on the inside and lately I am slowly coming round to the reality of structure and recognition of the realistic divide between “Them and Us”.

I get lauded for the longevity of staff in my employ, I have people still in active employment who have been with me for 18 years, my driver came 15 or 16 years ago . Very rarely do I loose staff or even fire anyone, though I have zero tolerance for stealing and will dismiss on the spot those caught in the act. I hold the belief that everyone is teachable, I love to cook, so I don’t mind investing hours teaching even professionals how to do it my way, I like a clean environment and I like things compartmentalised and off the floor. I respect people’s right to their emotional baggage and try to understand and make allowances for staff, especially when they first get employed. I have had my share of the good, the bad and very ugly or should I say evil but I am always open to giving everyone a chance. Lately however I am beginning to see that while I am blessed with some very good and loyal staff, there is very much a “Them and Us” mentality on their part and I may have been the dumbo who just didn’t or should I say refused to see it.

A while back my housekeeper was eased out of her position because she posed a threat to security and while I initially genuinely liked her, there was no hiding the fact that if care was not taken I would pay a a dear price for such carelessness. She put a plan in motion to frustrate fellow household staff out of their jobs and it was only after one person left that we caught on to her plan. Like my mom, I try to help staff start something of their own when they leave and we did same for her. As usual, information started to filter in after her departure and I came to know that other members of staff had realised she posed a threat long before I did, even those I considered part of the family kept quiet and just protected their own interests. I was quietly mulling over this new realisation when I was prodded to share my thoughts by my nearest and dearest. I should say that he had never quite understood my lack of structure and considered me way too liberal in my outlook but he figured I  probably had a rhyme to my reason so he kept out of it. I told him what I had found out and he understood that I was hurt that people I trusted sensed danger and failed to warn me but reminded me that my trusting nature left me open to such occurrences. He agreed there was always a “Them and Us” its the way of the world; you just have to accept that.

So what does one do in the face of an unpalatable reality, how does one treat people with detachment? I was brought up to care for and about others and I am having to learn to curtail my natural emotions in favour of a more regimented structure in my interactions. It took a while to not be openly hostile to some of my staff but I have made my peace with the reality that they know their place, I just have to learn mine. I still don’t believe in uniforms and I think its safer for everyone to eat the same thing (less chance of getting poisoned) but I now accept that people who are forced by circumstances into servitude don’t necessarily feel they belong in any family no matter the intentions or projections of their hosts/employers. The simple truth is that there was always and there will always be a “Them and Us”…