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layam

She is probably the reason we are a nation of tea drinkers. A comely smile connects cherry-tan cheeks, a mop of lustrous black hair peeps from beneath a colourful headband that holds aloft a polished cane basket and between her dainty smooth fingers a rain-washed tea leaf. All around her the supernal green glow of her sun-kissed workplace undulates in every direction. The trepidation in her eyes is alluring – one can easily change the leaf for a bitten apple. She is variously the quintessential worker adorning the cover of

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