Spirit of equity.

"Is the door locked?"

"Yes."

"Who's got the keys?" Jim continued.

"I have, of course", said Simon.

"And why should you keep them? Who said it was your job?" asked Mary.

"Our former chairman gave them to me before he left us, with the full consent of this Executive Committee", retorted Simon. "Of course, we can discuss this and other responsibilities later, but let's keep to the agenda."

"Hear, hear" came the assorted reply.

"John, are you keeping the minutes as usual?"

Pen in hand, he nodded.

"Well, brethren, are there any apologies?"

"I object to the use of gender-specific language in this forum", said Mary curtly. "If we're going to change society, we have to start here. And we won't change the way we think unless we change the way we speak. It doesn't matter that I'm the only woman here. It's the principle of the thing."

Everyone groaned except Tom, who muttered "I doubt it", then added something about the time of the month.

"I heard that, you sexist bastard ..."

"Brothers and sister, please," continued Simon, "let's begin this meeting in the spirit our chairman would have wanted, if he were still here. I ask again: are there any apologies?"

"Only our former colleague who--well--succumbed to a tempting offer from a rival syndicate, so to speak", said Jim.

"Absence does not constitute an apology. In his case, it's too late for apologies anyway", said Simon.

"Bloody obvious he's not here since we all know the little bugger is dead." Tom had always been a bit of a cynic.

"Language, Tom. In that case, let's move to point one on the agenda. It's our task now to appoint a replacement for said colleague on this Executive Committee. Are there any nominations?"

"Who says he has to be replaced?" asked Mary. "Shouldn't we first consider whether or not the maintenance of our core activities requires it? Is it essential for our immediate operational needs? Besides, if you'd appointed me to the Committee proper by now, you'd already have a quorum."

"Mary, you know that you are quasi ex officio given your--er--status, vis-a-vis our former chairman. And if he had wanted a mixed committee, he would have created one."

"He meant to, but he just didn't do it in time ..."

"I doubt that." Tom's whispers were drowned by more groans.

"Besides", she continued, "it's unfair discrimination to exclude applicants disproportionately from certain designated groups like, well, women."

"Please, brothers and sister", implored Simon. "Mary, you know our constitution, and we must keep to today's agenda. That's the rule. So let's get down to choosing a successor for our departed colleague."

"I saw it, you know", said Philip. "Nasty sight, him lying there in the field with his guts spilling all over the place. Threw up proper I did, I can tell you."

"Serves the bastard right", said Bart.

"Let's not cast the first stone, brother", warned Simon. "We must look forwards, not backwards. Do we have any nominations?"

"Well, I think we should first discuss the basic job requirements", continued Mary. "What are the essential competencies for the post? And do we have a framework for the evaluation process?"

"Thank you, Mary, but aren't we in danger of getting bogged down in bureaucracy?"

"Nonsense", said Mary, "you're the only bureaucrat here, anyway, brother Simon."

"Joe and Matt are the only possibilities", said Bart. "They've both been involved since the beginning, and since the loss of our chairman and the defection of our, well, departed member, potential replacements are a bit thin on the ground."

"I agree", said Philip, "Joe and Matt it is."

"You conniving buggers", gasped Mary, jumping to her feet, "you've been planning this all week, haven't you? And to think I could have believed all your mealy-mouthed words about democracy, equality and the great bloody society. I've as much right to stand as either of them. Been around since the beginning indeed. Joe will lick anyone's arse to get his foot in the door ..." Tom giggled something about contortionism and mixed metaphors, but Mary ignored him--"while Matt's useless for anything except making the tea and sandwiches."

"Lovely tea he makes, though", said Bart.

"And smashing sandwiches", Andrew piped up.

"Funny you should say something at last", Mary sneered at Andrew, "since you've fancied Matt's sister for months. What did he promise you? Get me on the Committee and I'll get you in her pants, was it?"

"Mary! Enough", shouted Simon.

"Oh, it's mister bloody assertive now, is it? We'll see about that"--but she sat down anyway, and Simon resumed business.

"So: Bart nominates Joe and Matt. The constitution does allow one executive member to nominate two candidates, but we'll need different seconders for each of them. Are there any other nominations? Sorry, Mary: put your hand down, you know you're not a full member of the Committee. No more nominations? OK, do we have a seconder for Joe?--Thank you, Philip; and Matt?--thanks, Andrew. Now let's draw lots."

"Lots? Draw lots?" asked Mary, "This is a mockery. Before we even begin the selection process, we must consult our diversity profile, make reference checks, draw up a shortlist, and subject the candidates to a rigorous interview."

"Lots is fine by me", said Philip.

"Me too--me too--me too", they all replied.

"Lots it is then", said Simon. "And John, don't minute Mary's outburst. Just stick to announcements and decisions."

"Hah!", she exclaimed, "if only that's all he was writing--everyone knows he's working on a biography of our chairman so he can get his version out on the market first, with himself centre-stage. You always did think he loved you best, didn't you, didn't you."

John stopped scribbling, looked up at her, said nothing, then smiled wanly and scribbled on.

"Lots it is", continued Simon. "Calm down, Mary, we all know how important your role has been. No one's doubting that"--Tom raised his hand and opened his mouth for an "I do", but Simon glared at him, so he put his hand down again--"but we've always done everything by lots, and it's as fair as anything. So here's two sticks. The long one's for Joe, the short one's for Matt ..." Simon's voice trailed away as he turned and fumbled with the sticks. He swung round again and asked: "Anyone object if Andrew does the honours?"

"No", mumbled everyone except Mary.

"All right. Choose one stick, Andrew."

Andrew moved nervously to the front,--typical bloody Simon, getting me to pick a stick when all I want is my own in Matt's sister. He almost chose the one on the left, but thought he noticed Simon smile, and so chose the other instead.

"Joe it is, everyone", grinned Simon, brandishing the long stick as Andrew moped back to his seat.

"Any objections? Put your hand down, Mary. None? Good. John, please minute all of that."

"Now", Simon continued, "We still have to elect a new chairman." He looked at Bart expectantly.

"I propose you, Simon", said Bart limply, but could get no further as Mary jumped to her feet once more, crying:

"No, no, no, NO. I can't believe it. You've really had it all planned, haven't you, you bloody men, and after we've suffered at least as much as you. He wouldn't have wanted it this way, I tell you, and I knew him better than any of you, how dare you, how dare you, I'll put a stop to this. I'll go and fetch my sister. I'll go to his mother, I'll ..."

And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.

"Sod this meeting", said Simon Peter. "Let's go and change the world. You stay here, Mary. Everyone else: follow me." And he took the keys that had been given him, flung the door wide open, and strode out. They all followed him, except one.

And Mary wept.

Chris Walton

University of Pretoria