Mrs Norah Martin was my colleague at the Notre Dame College English course.
She was a Mennonite Christian, a fundamentalist. She was Canadian.
She was white.
This was in the early 1990s. Some of us teachers gathered together and, during break, over sugary tea, did what we usually do when we have nothing better to do: hold a corroboree on the nation's future.
After a brief discussion, a consensus was reached: military rule was the way forward (the military had just been ousted by western donors).
Gormless as we were, we took Mrs. Martin into our confidence.
Her entire body stiffened. Her pointy nose signalled disapproval, pointing downward, as though averting our collective gaze.
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