2. Genocide arising from division - When the Cambodian embassy opened in their neighbourhood, the narrator mentions how everyone immediately thought about the Cambodian genocide. The Khmer Rouge genocide was based on class division. Other genocides mentioned in the story (Rwanda, the Holocaust) were based on ethnic divisions. The mentioning of genocides in a story depicting class and ethnic divisions is not a coincidence.

Zadie suggests that in order to survive, some draw circles around themselves because if they care too much about everyone,  they can’t protect themselves or others like them who they have included in their circle. But this approach leaves others outside the circle. The Derawal’s kept Fatou outside their circle. They perhaps created this barrier unconsciously because they too were marginalized and exploited when they first emigrated. And it’s a cycle that repeats. References to genocide in the story brings to mind what can happen when this circle drawing is taken to the absolute extreme. Do we become blind to the suffering of others because we feel the need to draw our circles around us and our own in order to survive?

This equal consideration should also be applied within a health care team. There is no rule, for example, that says doctors are more important than nurses or personal support workers in long-term care, or any other health setting. We are all part of one system that becomes dysfunctional when some members and their contributions are valued more than others. If we don’t work together as an interdisciplinary team drawing on and valuing the resources from each member, how can we provide the safest and best care for our patients?

 When re-reading the story I was able to connect more with it and notice more details. I felt like I could empathize with Fatou and was inspired by her ability to remain level-headed and continue to work despite how her employers treated her. When reading Fatou relate how proud she was that she could swim, and had taught herself, I really got a sense of who she was. She was a woman who had gone through her fair share of struggles: moving to Nigeria to work in a hotel where she managed to avoid being dragged into prostitution, seeing the dead bodies of young kids who couldn’t swim washed ashore, coming to London to live with and work for a cruel family. Yet she welcomed her new life and fully embraced her role in that household, and I found that very powerful. I came to see the badminton imagery and game scores marking the story’s transition as mirroring Fatou’s up and down battles with life. One element that still remains unclear to me is the identity of the unnamed first-person narrator. I feel that I don’t necessarily have enough information about who it (or they?) is (or are?). At one point, the narrator mentions having been chosen to speak, but not by the people of Willesden themselves. This makes me wonder who, then, has appointed her to speak and/or what compelled her to feel obligated to speak for the people of the town?