Rescuing a dinner party the West African way

sir – In West Africa in the 1970s, we invited American friends, soon to be posted to Hawaii, and others for a farewell dinner party (Letters, September 18).

I got home having fallen and lost two front teeth, speaking in a painfully mushy way. My wife, once a casualty nurse, was hardly comforting, telling me that the chickens for dinner had been eaten by the Alsatian we were looking after. Unworried by my accident, she urged me to dash out and buy more. Still bleeding, my presence at the shop caused some excitement.

Not amused were our friends, whose posting had been cancelled. A German couple arrived hardly speaking after a row. A French lady was heavily pregnant, and her husband’s painful tropical infection caused him to sit on the edge of his chair.

I greeted them gummily, apologised for the chicken incident and lateness of dinner, and said the traditional

Wawa (West Africa wins again).

The wine flowed, and later we went to an African nightclub. It might have been a disaster, but a military coup was said to be imminent and somehow we all enjoyed ourselves – even me, who the next day faced a hefty dentist’s bill. Leslie Thorogood

Maidenhead, Berkshire