It’s always going to take time for a new group to get used to the entirety of our software stack. They are, after all, detached from the day-to-day operation of any part of it beyond our own fault-and-call tracking suite.

By Tuesday morning, however, we have two offices up and running and this allows us to finally begin to do some proper role-playing. This is the best way, or so I have found, to get people to really deal with actual problems.

Honestly, much of what we are asked to do isn’t a fault with our own software, but rather with the more general computing environment that we find ourselves working in. I’m far from being an expert in network infrastructure, but it looks like a couple of my students have already had some experience in the field. Even helping with your own university’s network is a bonus here and they will soon find themselves as my first experts.

I’ve been promised some help from other departments from the end of this week. Each office is going to give me a half-day with one of their supervisors. They can help to explain what they normally do each day and the common problems that they encounter. This should take another week or more out of our schedule, but then it is going to be time to start working as a live team with the first of many new employees starting in the still-empty offices all around us.

We’ve had the pleasure of Martin’s driving for the first half of the week, his usual quiet yet solid and formal self. When I call at the driver’s room on my way to lunch on Wednesday, however, I find that it is Joseph who will have to accompany me. Anders has had to cancel our lunch appointment because of a European conference call and I’m still not confident enough to go out on my own in the middle of town. The many warnings about safety hold me back.

I’m not sure if it is my imagination, but Joseph appears to be a little reluctant to tag along with me. Whatever is going on in his head, he’s the only member of our staff available and he has little option.

He insists on stepping into the slot at my left shoulder, just a half-step behind. It is almost as if he knows how much it will annoy me when he behaves like a servant. I say nothing and make my way through the crowd to the little grill that Anders and I have become regulars at.

Regular enough to know that our server is called Mary and that there is usually a couple of seats at the back in the corner. She greets me warmly and gives Joseph barely a glance, used to white clients having chaperones.

Joseph seems reluctant to sit with me, but I make a point of giving him little choice. “I don’t know what you’re reading into this, but sit down and decide what to eat,” I tell him with a little more sharpness than is perhaps necessary. “Despite what you might think, we are not the centre of attention and will remain fairly anonymous unless you continue to draw people’s eyes.”

Even in just over a week of being here, my palate has been yearning to experiment. Some of the stews are a pleasure to eat, but I’ve already discovered that I’m not a fan of Ugali. I think I suspected before I tried it that a corn-meal based starchy carbohydrate would be no match for mashed potatoes of either variety and, at least for someone who is used to other options, I found it totally without taste. It’s not quite like what I imagine wallpaper paste to taste like, but I can see why some people say that it is. It’s actually probably really good as a glue anyway. However good the accompanying stew might be, it’s not enough for me to stomach as a whole.

Today, I settle on Githeri, a vegetable stew of beans and corn that’s thick and hearty while still being light and easy to eat. Served with the inevitable chapati, it’s plenty for a work-day lunch. I’m well aware that I’m walking and exercising far less here than I would normally do at home and I’m right on the edge of making a conscious effort to do something about it. I might even have to start going to a gym, even if just to spend an hour walking on a treadmill.

While the food is good, the company is apparently terrible. Joseph is staring at his bowl of Ugali and meat with clearly little intention of eating any of it. In just a couple of days, he has gone from his usual bright self to being sullen and withdrawn.

“I’m not quite sure what is wrong,” I tell him in little more thana whisper, “but you really need to eat that before it goes cold.”

He manages what comes out as a shuddering sigh before he applies himself to his food with a little more determination.

“I was thinking about the leopard that we saw in the park,” he tells me at length. “Though their lives must be hard, they seem content. They wait and they watch, showing great patience. They know that to survive, they must hunt with minimum effort and Patience is something that is essential to them staying alive.”

“I’m sure that, for many people, this is a strategy that works just as well for humans as for leopards,” I suggest.

“I have thought in this way for a long time,” Joseph says softly. “Waiting and watching, hoping for a change for the better or a way to make that change happen.”

“I feel that it might describe me well,” I tell him with a smile. “I believe that I’m quite content to sit and wait for whatever comes my way. Whether that is work, friendship or companionship, just waiting might be enough.

“Sometimes, however, we do have to recognise that we need to work for what we want in our lives. However hard that working for change might be, the rewards will hopefully be worth the effort.”

Again, there is a silence before Joseph manages to formulate a response. “I have thought this way for many years now, but I’m just not sure any more.”

The rest of our lunch is eaten in silence, but Joseph seems to at least be enjoying his food now that the air between us is a little clearer.