TSITSI DANGAREMBGA: Nervous Conditions Remember to support your ideas with details from the writing. Read the following extract, and then answer the question that follows it: Babamukuru was of the opinion that enough chances had come my way, and on another level he agreed with Nyasha that the experience would not be good for me. From his armchair opposite the fireplace he told me why I could not go to the convent. 'It is not a question of money,' he assured me. 'Although there would still be a lot of expense on my part, you have your scholarship, so the major financial burden would be lifted. But I feel that even that little money could be better used. For one thing, there is now the small boy at home. Every month I put away a little bit, a very little bit, a very little bit every month, so that when he is of school-going age everything will be provided for. As you know, he is the only boy in your family, so he must be provided for. As for you, we think we are providing for you quite well. By the time you have finished your Form Four you will be able to take your course, whatever it is that you choose. In time you will be earning money. You will be in a position to be married by a decent man and set up a decent home. In all that we are doing for you, we are preparing you for this future life of yours, and I have observed from my own daughter’s behaviour that it is not a good thing for a young girl to associate too much with these white people, to have too much freedom. I have seen that girls who do that do not develop into decent women.' Marriage. I had nothing against it in principle. In an abstract way I thought it was a very good idea. But it was irritating the way it always cropped up in one form or another, stretching its tentacles back to bind me before I had even begun to think about it seriously, threatening to disrupt my life before I could even call it my own. Babamukuru had lost me with his talk of marriage. I inspected my dressing-gown for fluff, waiting for the session to end. 'This,' continued my uncle, 'is what I shall tell your father: if he wishes to send you there to that school, he may do so if he can find the money. Myself, I would not consider it money well spent. Mai,' he concluded, turning to my aunt, ‘is there anything that you would wish to say?' 'Yes, Baba,' Maiguru spoke up softly from the sofa. My inspection came to an abrupt end. I listened incredulously. 'You do!' exclaimed Babamukuru and, recovering himself, invited her to continue. 'Speak freely, Mai. Say whatever you are thinking.' There was a pause during which Maiguru folded her arms and leant back in the sofa. 'I don't think,' she began easily in her soft, soothing voice, ‘that Tambudzai will be corrupted by going to that school. Don't you remember, when we went to South Africa everybody was saying that we, the women, were loose.' Babamukuru winced at this explicitness. Maiguru continued. 'It wasn't a question of associating with this race or that race at that time. People were prejudiced against educated women. Prejudiced. That's why they said we weren't decent. That was in the fifties. Now we are into the seventies. I am disappointed that people still believe the same things. After all this time and when we have seen nothing to say it is true. I don't know what people mean by a loose woman sometimes she is someone who walks the streets, sometimes she is an educated woman, sometimes she is a successful man's daughter or she is simply beautiful. Loose or decent, I don't know. All I know is that if our daughter Tambudzai is not a decent person now, she never will be, no matter where she goes to school. And if she is decent, then this convent should not change her. As for money, you have said yourself that she has a full scholarship. It is possible that you have other reasons why she should not go there, Babawa Chido, but these – the question of decency and the question of money – are the ones I have heard and so these are the ones I have talked of.' There was another pause during which Maiguru unfolded her arms and clasped her hands in her lap. Babamukuru cleared his throat. ‘Er, Tambudzai,' he asked tentatively, 'do you have anything to say?' [from Chapter 9] Explore the ways in which Dangarembga makes this a memorable and significant moment in the novel.