Farm staff were paid monthly. There were 30 days in 11 months but in the 12th month which was called PWAGME there were only 5 or 6 days. This was the Ethiopia way of making the local number of days in a year the same as in the rest of the world.
I, Philippa kept the accounts. There were no such things as computers in those days, so I used a thing called an Abacus which helped me to add and subtract figures accurately. I had the equivalent of my famous black book (which I used in the 2020’s in Hemyock) to keep all the farm accounts at Mulu Farm safely recorded.
Once a month, all the farm staff would arrive outside our house at Mulu.
We had a separate building outside of and higher up the hill than my parents’ house at Mulu. We called it the office block but there was also a room at the end, that was my bedroom. This meant I could have a lie-in on Sunday mornings and get up when I wanted to.
Our headman (Tesfai to begin with until he died) and then Rorisa became the headman. He was younger than Tesfai had been so had to establish himself as Headman. It took the poor man some time to do this, but we managed it after a few months. The people we employed would come up to the Office to get their monthly pay. Only very few of them could write and it would have been in the Ethiopian script which was very complicated and fiendishly difficult to read or write, so the men would sign with thumbprints, which are unique to everyone. A much safer way of singing for things than a modern-day scrawl.
Each month I would work out how much cash I would need and then get it from our bank in Addis Ababa.
So, all the farm staff would come up to my office one by one with Tesfai and later Rorisa who became our headman. But we managed it after a few months.
The people we employed would come up to the office to get their monthly pay. Only a very few could read and write, it would have been in the Ethiopian- script which was very complicated and fiendishly difficult to read or write. So, our employees would sign with their thumbprints which are unique to everyone. A much safer way of signing for things than a modern-day scrawl.
Each month I would work out how much cash I needed and then get it from our bank in Addis Ababa.
So, all the farm staff would come up to my office, one by one with Tesfai (and later on Rorisa) to make sure I had got it right and after having tried to muddle me up, we would part good friends with them shaking their heads at me and laughing………..
The only thing that worried me was keeping all that money overnight. But we had a night watchman who was quite good at checking who was wandering about during the night and would certainly have raised the alarm if any stranger was around.
I would pay out the perfectly filthy notes and give it to them and they would sign for it with a thumb print and go away.
Sometimes they would say I had not got it right. So, I would open my book and explain to them how I had reached the total and having had their grumble they would go away quite cheerfully, grinning at me to show there was no animosity.
To start off with, there was the problem of Saints Days. Everyone had a particular saint that looked after them and they would say that they could not work on that day. However, I overcame that by saying that I would only give a holiday on the saint’s days of the local churches.
Saint Mary (Mariam Gulbi) and St George Day (Gorgis)
If they wanted a holiday on their saint’s day, they could have it, but I would not pay them for it. No surprise then that that their local saints’ days quite often got ignored.
However, it was all good fun and we stayed friendly with them shaking their heads and laughing and saying “Ishi Matie” (woman) or “Ishi Kilippa” which they said instead of Philippa.
I have never discovered why they called me Kilippa. I thought I knew all the words one should not use but I have never discovered why they called me Kilippa instead of Philippa.
And I don’t suppose I will all those years ago. About 60 I reckon.
I like it that our patron saint St George is the same as Ethiopia’s Georgis