My uncle worked for an elite club and moved into a large house in an elite area that he felt better matched his social status. Like other houses in the area, a tall fence ran all around his home.

Since his son was my closest school buddy, I goaded my parents to arrive early at the housewarming party. I loved the immaculate backyard lawn and played with my friend there while the adults chatted inside. But I soon tired of the confined space, as our home had no fence of the kind. I wanted to venture out; it took all my cousin’s persuasive power to keep me inside. He had been warned not to step out of the fence, because, far-fetched as it sounded to me, ostensibly the traffic on the road beyond posed a hazard.

My uncle was proud of his new mansion and took his guests on a detailed tour. Over dinner, everybody spoke of its spacious atrium, elegant design, chic furniture and opulent drapes. My parents politely added to the discussion and spoke of the well-lit rooms upstairs and the attractive view.

The last was an unfortunate trigger for my nagging thought from earlier. I turned to my uncle and said I loved his lawn, but it did not have the view our house had. In fact, I added, it had no view at all because of the unsightly high fence.

All conversation stopped. My uncle, who had looked pleased with the trend of discussion so far, suddenly had a crestfallen look. My parents were deeply embarrassed by my gaffe and, on return, told me I needed to be more sensitive to others’ feelings.

That was not the last time in my life that I realized the tussle between tact and truth-telling.

Three months later, our family received another cordial invitation from my uncle. While we were all enjoying the tea and scones in his immense living room, he turned to his son and me and said, “You, young people, don’t have to sit with us adults here and get bored. You can go and play anywhere you like.”

Then he pointedly looked at me and added, “If you go to the yard at the back, you might have a surprise.”

The backyard was the first place I went to. The long, tall fence had been taken down in its entirety.

The writer is a Washington-based international development advisor and had worked with the World Bank. He can be reached at mnandy@gmail.com