This book has been following me around. I swear it has. I had seen reviews of it on-line, but I first saw it in person in Camden Markets in London. The cover intrigued me. I almost bought it, but not quite. I saw it here and there in the States and each time almost picked it up. But not quite. Then, when we stayed in the hostel in Waikiki, there it was again—waiting for me right in my room. I never found out to whom it belonged or how it came to be there.

But I figured it was such a danged persistent little book that the next time I came across it, I finally did buy it and read it. I was completely captivated by it. The story is loosely about a detective agency - the only detective agency in Botswana - but only loosely. The agency serves mainly as a venue for the characters and their problems and intrigues and triumphs. I’m not sure the detective agency is central enough to justify putting this book in with the mysteries unless it is on the basis that all of life is a mystery.

What the book is really about is Botswana and its people in all their charming variety and nuance. This book is a melange of the colors, textures, and innuendos of Botswananian society and the life and times of Precious Ramotswe, chief lady detective, in particular. Very engaging, amusing, and at times hilarious, the books are an easy, but worthwhile read. So worthwhile I splurged on three more books in the series, which I have almost finished. But not quite. And fortunately, there are yet more books in the series after those.

The next time a book follows me around as persistently as did this one, hopefully I will be quicker on the uptake.