Our sub-postmaster cherishes hard work.

5-min read.

In the last few weeks, there have been the news about the Prime Minister’s expenditure on the refurbishment of his Downing Street flat above Number 11. In my March post, I wrote about his financial plight, and suggested that we should do the crowdfunding. My misgivings mentioned in my post have since been borne out to be true.

Personally, I do not think that our uxorious Prime Minister did anything wrong morally or legally by borrowing £58,000 or more from a friend to furnish his flat to please his young wife, and later returning it to the lender. It was just a slip up and not an offence worth his scalp. The media hyperbolized it. I think the issue will taper off sooner than later.

 But beside that another news is more important i.e., 39 sub-postmasters, who with about 700 more, were wrongly convicted of false accounting and theft several years ago, have been acquitted by the Court of Appeal. The Post Office Limited wasted huge sums of money on spurious prosecutions. The exoneration took many years. It is trite law that ‘justice delayed is justice denied’. One committed suicide, some passed away bearing the shock of being wrongly branded as stealers, and some were left down-and outs after they had to reimburse up to £40,000. It had happened due to the faulty computer system Horizon imported from Japan by the Post Office twenty-two years ago.  The screams of the innocent employees were muzzled. They endured inexplicable hardships. Some of the bosses who supervised the gross injustice caused to innocent sub-postmasters are still around at plum posts. A few were awarded honours.

These sub-postmasters and mistresses served the public selflessly and it was beyond their wildest dreams to steal from the tills.

Due to the publicity by the media, one positive aspect has emerged i.e., their ex-bosses can expect that the chickens are coming home to roost.

The story I am going to narrate is about our sub-postmaster who runs the post office in our neighbourhood.

He is of South Asian ethnicity. He is called Karim.

He bought the post office about ten years ago. He, with his wife and two young children, live in the flat upstairs. The wife, though a qualified sub-postmistress, is looking after the children but would be seen at the counter now and then. Sometimes, you see another local woman in her early forties, who serves at the second counter.

Karim is in his mid-thirties, 5′ 10” tall, and medium built. He, spruced up and normally wearing a cravat, would welcome every customer. Depending on the number of people in the queue, he would honorifically strike up a conversation. 

Since the lockdown, I have not been visiting him. Our helper runs errands to the post office. The incident which I am about to narrate happened before the pandemic.

One afternoon, I went to the post office and noticed the employed sub-postmistress was on duty. As it was the summertime, I thought that Karim might have gone on holidays. I did not enquire about him.

Next week, I visited the post office again and he was not there then either. I was sure that he must have gone for holidays.

I asked the lady:

“Has the boss gone on holidays?”

She, straight- faced, said:

“No, he’ll be here in a few minutes. He has gone in to fetch a cup of tea.”

I added:

“As he was not at the counter on my two consecutive visits, I was of the impression he might’ve gone for holidays.”

“No, he doesn’t like holidays”, she chucklingly clarified.

“Very strange! Who doesn’t like holidays? I opined.

I added:

“It looks he’s earning reasonable money, and I’m sure he can go for holidays which might not be exotic.”

She reiterated her earlier response:

“He doesn’t like holidays.”

While we were still talking, he emerged.

I said:

“As I did not see you on two occasions, I thought that you were on holidays.”

“No, doctor. I don’t like holidays.”

As the queue was building up at both the counters, I abandoned the conversation, and left the post office.

Next week, I visited again. This time he was alone, and it was not a busy time. I mentioned holidays again. He said:

“Doctor, the word holiday does not exist in my dictionary.”

I suggested:

“If someone buys one week Canary Islands cruise tickets for you, your wife, and both the children, will you accept it?”

“No, no doctor, you misconceived the matter. It is not a question of affordability. The fact of the matter is that I derive far more pleasure while serving here at the counter, rather than sitting at the swimming pool on board a stupendous ship.”

He was right. There are thousands of sub-postmasters and mistresses who are serving the public honestly and diligently.

It is a fact that it is easy to catch small fish in a barrel.

The big fish who embezzled millions of pounds during the pandemic are difficult to catch. But the small ones like the sub-postmasters and mistresses are shown no mercy.

I like to share another example of a small fish who has recently been punished for a trifling offence.

 It saddened and sickened me when I read about an NHS podiatrist nurse who has been meted out quite disproportionate punishment for tiny lapse on her part.

While making a home visit to a patient to cut her toenails, she received £15. Though she had been working for the hospital for 18 years but has been struck off the register for dishonesty by the Health and Care Professions Tribunal Service.

The punishment could not be harsher. According to the Tribunal, it received no assurance that she would not repeat her dishonest conduct. I doubt it if she said that. It must be a speculation on their part. My advice is that she should challenge the extremely unreasonable decision on appeal.

@drch100

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Ps: Next short story will be posted on Sunday June 13 2021 at 11 am. It is titled: My guesses were not too wrong.

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