Chapter 2

Venturing out to the city

Going to look for a job in big city was the only idea in my mind when the cooperative president informed me on the disruption of the cooperative hence the loss of my job. I immediately realized that I was no longer able to sustain my needs in addition to the mist in my horizons. I held myself from crying at that time but as I handed my accounting books and the keys of the offices (since I kept a copy of every door’s key) I started realizing that I was really a sign of failure or there was a chain of maledictions following me.

By the way, the day seemed dark, but I kept my eyes dry until I reached home. I locked the door behind me, put well the curtains and pushed a gross sigh as I started to digest the news. I cried my pain on the pillow. I grieved so much that I failed to sleep and decided to buy a small Kanyanga that I mixed with Ubushera (local sorghum beer) that I kept producing as it was the family ritual when mum was around; to drink my sorrow away.

I hoped it could burn away my pains but it failed. Instead it made me feel colder and consciously aware of the storm. Every single sip was turned into energy that I burnt crying and sobering. I swallowed in between sobs that sometimes it refused to land in my stomach. My three handkerchiefs were slimy wet and I could not calm myself. I decided to lay asleep on the bed.

Several ideas flew in my small head, which was already swelling from tension. I thought of continuing to wait for my fate as I continue to applying for other jobs, or to start a small business like selling tomatoes, aubergines and onions on a small table in front of our house or to look for where I could dig land for a daily wage or even sit down and start knitting clothes. I wished our family could have more land so that I can at least farm it.

However, I was struck and relatively stuck, with no courage to go on. The idea of not being able to ask my mother for advice made me even foolishly crashed. I even wondered  if I could get a decent man to marry me and depend on him but the image of my own father killing my mother brought more grieve and frustration; I did not know if I could endure what mum had been made to endure. To this day, I cannot figure out how I slept in the midst of anger, grief and uncertainty.

The following morning, my head was burning with crazy ideas and spinning from the unknown dose of alcohol in 500ml Kanyanga I had drunk the previous night. My stomach had a kind of heat inside and my legs were weak refusing to carry me as they should. I thought, maybe I had to eat something. The nearest thing was dry locally made bread that I used to get from Kigingi who had an upcoming bakery.

Kigingi had been trying to draw my interest to him in vain as I had fear towards men, I do not even think it was fear but rather an open bleeding wound in my heart. Nevertheless, I always accepted his weekly packet of bread or amandazi (big unsweetened doughnut). As it reached my stomach, I felt like a burning fire inside me, accelerating the motive force of the blood flow. I lay a bit on the bed but thought that I was becoming weaker. Therefore, I thought of cooking but I was not able to try even to ignite the stove as I was trembling.

I fell back asleep up to 25 past noon as a neighbor knocked incessantly on my door. I only woke up to find it was Karire, who brought a letter from Kigingi. I thanked her and put the letter on the table. I yawned, stretched myself for a while and drank two cups from the clay potted water. I felt so refreshed that I started cooking. The plantain mixed with beans and dodo (amaranthus) was an easiest try. Soon I was eating or even getting satisfied when I opened the letter from that once ignored lover.

The letter was sufficiently short and sad; it was just to inform me that he had gotten news about my loss of job and that he was no longer able to continue to run behind me (tired of me ignoring him or refusing to welcome him in my life). Kelly, I knew that you might have appreciated him but I was far to be ready for a relationship. I cannot explain where more tears came from after the previous night buckets of tears that I had shed, though I knew no specific reason for which I became sad.

I closed the door immediately and went back to cry in my bed wiping my tears and nasal mucus with my maroon t-shirt. I wondered how these brutal moments were made to strike straight in single moments. I wondered if Kigingi real waited to strike at this proper moment or if it was a sheer coincidence. Whatever it was, it wounded my whole being that I cursed my birth.  I wished I had not been born but I fell asleep fortunately up to the later evening.

 I thought it was a dream and I decided to wake up from it. I went outside, as I tried to open the door slowly, I heard those neighboring women talking in low voices and when they heard my door’s creak, they suddenly stopped talking, and instead they looked at me as if watching a horror movie. I realized that the whole thing was real but I defeated my coldness and broke the silence by greeting them; they looked surprised as if I was a ghost.

My eyes were red and swollen but luckily, they could not see them as the daylight was being swallowed away by the night. In the horizon, I could see a mist that was even in my mind. I asked Mama Karire who was closer to me to give me some burning charcoal so that I could ignite my stove. I sat in the middle of the entrance to my abode, peeled potatoes that I boiled adding carrots, African eggplants and beans in them.

Since I wanted to sweeten my evening, I stayed seated listening to the low-pitched private conversations and stories of my neighbors; by the way, they had plenty of them, and I contributed to, making them feel comfortable to continue talking by staying my head off. It was even distracting me from my deepest bad thoughts. I fried a leak in the palm fats making a nice aroma in the evening air.

I had rearranged the house removing grossy things from my way and enclosed them in nuptial room of our parents. I arranged the books on the table at the far end opposite the door with the bible being on top of them, the cross of our Lord in the middle between the two ibyibo (basket) with the white on the right whereas the yellow with red ribbons on the left. I put the benches perpendicularly around the eating table and I always kept the candle on the book table while I used the one for my daily needs.

When I lit the candle, my food looked better than I thought, the color of orange palm, black beans and a nice texture from potatoes touched by carrots and aubergines. The food was tempting me to leave my sadness and enjoy the delicacy of my home but my heart refused to be warmed by a simple attraction to food. I ate to fill my empty stomach. My stomach ached as the food reached in it as a way of rebelling against the food but I kept eating until I felt full hoping that the food would give me the energy for the next chapter.

I could not figure out what was next and therefore I tried to watch agasobanuye (translated movie) saved on my phone to distract myself until the battery died off. I covered myself in the cold bed. I tried to remain thinking about the movie but the air was too heavy. I have never in my life seen such a long night! In my mind, scenes flashed like lightning, but I had no idea of how to go on in this painful trouble filled life.

Time waits for no man. The morning came, I tried to linger in the Rugarama market place in a search for inner peace by talking to people but as soon as I was alone, my pains dragged me down  to torture me. I was going nowhere at all, I kept walking round and about the market. A sudden idea of going to buy rice and sugar came in my mind; it was so strong that I could not resist it. I headed to amaduka (big shops) slowly lost in my thoughts that I was almost about to crash Carine,  who saw me and came towards me as she had  recognized me even though my face had a bit of change from rubbing it the last two days.

Carine was beautiful and smiling. She was short, built and dark with white big eyes. Her natural hair was kept short and neat, propping her round face. From the time we met at school, I had appreciated her natural beauty. However, she had not been lucky to sit in an office for even a day. She had been helping her family on their small farm on which they handled everything manually which made her hands calloused but still caressing.

We hugged each other and exchanged news. Carine said that she wanted to go to the city to look for a job as it was  said that jobs were easy to get in cities. She was even tired of her mother using her as an ipunda (horse) by assigning her a lot of work while mocking at her that she lost time at school. She could even tell her, "You better get married to start afresh!" or “two women cannot reside in one house”. Carine could talk of it calmly; she hid her sadness deep beyond her beautiful eyes.

The idea of running away, caught my attention and I got interested in the plan she had. She was thinking that it could help her go on or even get some kind of personal development. I asked her if she would mind going with me, and she accepted fast saying that my experience of working with various people would make us get jobs sooner and easily.

We decided to go without consent from anyone at home or neighborhood. We packed small luggage; just changing clothes and took a bus to Kigali. It was our first time to reach the city and we looked around where to get a ghetto of just a chambrette for both of us so that we could keep each other’s company. We got a nice bedsitter in the slam across Nyabugogo River just some minutes from the bus station.

Using the little money we had, we managed to pay rent for two months and went to buy a saucepan, a basin, jerrycan, stove and foodstuff. We had to be careful with our small money. We bought a medium bucket of charcoal, potatoes, beans, salt, porridge flour and rice. We were wondering if we could buy a bed but our financial status couldn’t afford us even the smallest one.

Fortunately, we heard of someone in need of selling his old mattress and we took it at just five thousand RWF.  The mattress was an agacapati (very old and flat), we secured some cartons and ikirago (a mat woven in weeds from marshlands). The bed was elevated and good enough for us at least for the moment. We arranged our new house and cooked our simple food. We were introduced to the Umudugudu (village) chief who recorded our identifications and welcomed us. Maria, our landlady, showed us where to get water cheaply (just at 20 RWF per jerrycan).

Life did not look as dangerous going by what people used to talk about life in the cities, especially for new comers or unemployed people from a deep dark village. Our landlady was an old woman who ran a small mixed shop, she told us that we could be buying from her and kept a small notebook for any credit we could take to pay later and that we could pick dodos (amaranthus) and leaks in the garden any time we wanted them; for she used to let tenants have access on them. We felt happy to be hosted by a kind woman that made us hope that the future would be sparkling bright. To us, she lit a ray of hope amidst the calamities.

After eating, we felt relieved and went to bed early. We prayed for our bleak future life. We continued spending the evening by talking about what people back home would be saying from our sudden disappearance. Carine said that her mother would be extremely angry for a while, but as for me, I had no idea of what my neighbors would say, I kept silence for few seconds. I thought of our father in prison and you, my brother, being nowhere I could imagine.

 I sighed speaking as if to myself, or thinking aloud convincing myself that they would not even bother themselves wondering a lot. To our village we had been a villain family, a family of catastrophes. Carine did not want to ask me a lot, may be because she thought it might drain my spirit off the hope we had in the new life. We slept in the happiness of the promising new life though we knew nothing about what tomorrow would bring.

In the early morning, we woke up determined to go and search for those scanty jobs. We went to sit on Komezamabuno (place with stones on which people who were seeking daily casual jobs or employment would sit on waiting for those who needed manpower to come and take them), people came to pick workers but we were left out for we had no prerequisite tools (hoe, spade, slashers etc.) and we looked weaker even among the few women who were present. This became our very first impediment in our quest to fit in in the rough city life.

The sun continued to shine more and the fervent heat of the day became unbearable, we decided to leave silently but we asked those people who looked noble if they had jobs to be done or if they could tell us where to go and secure some. Some replied politely "no", while others yelled at us asking us how we expected them to know about that. One woman mocked us saying that we had better chances giving out ourselves to commercial sex. We knew that some women worked as prostitutes but for us, it was even out of question to think of doing so.

The sun kept radiating too much heat, and we got exhausted and helpless and we decided to go back to our ghetto. With sadness that was high coupled by a lot of sweat that we had shed, and in addition to body weakness due to hunger and thirst, we retreated back to our cube utterly discouraged. We were tired of the long day even if it was still the early afternoon.

We came to realize that we had no cups; we could not think of buying anything else until we got money. We drank water from the jerrycan mouth. We warmed the leftovers and made porridge that we took from the saucepan by spoons. We washed the utensils, put the remaining water in the basin and went to fetch more for the next day.

 On the way, we saw a bar that we had not seen before maybe because it faced the other side.  We discussed going to ask for a job there but we felt a sudden fear of such an area and we continued on our way. In my mind, I felt an attraction to that bar; it looked more clean, big and populated compared to the ones we had seen before. I thought of finding out on how to get a connection there.

 Fortunately, on the way back we met a man that I remembered having seen some day at a village market bringing NPK 17 17  and Urea fertilizers. He greeted us and proudly told us that he owned a bar around that place, and that he was checking out on how the business was going on. He asked me for my telephone number and I gave it out happily.

We ended our long day in talks and watched those translated movies we had on our phones, I was interested to watch movies on Carine’s phone whereas she watched from my phone. She had plenty of Indian translated movies; I loved the way they danced at the market places and how they fell in love everywhere. It was as if we were not under the same sun! She had even the Nigerian Karashika but I did not dare to watch it.

We slept a bit late; in our new place, there was no problem of charging our phones.  Electricity was there throughout and its cost had been included in the rental cost. We had high hopes of getting jobs soon, so we kept our hearts in peace. The morning came and we went back to Komezamabuno, where we sat until around 11:00am as we had just done the day before.

On the way as we headed back to our ghetto, we met a rich lady. We thought of greeting her and asking her if she had a job to offer. We asked for small casual jobs ranging from cleaning and washing or any other. She surprisingly accepted to hire us to remove weeds and sweep her compound. We were glad to get a job but the compound was so big and the day was extremely hot.  She seemed to be home alone but at lunchtime, her kids were dropped by a school bus.

She fed us nicely and when we finished she gave us a 1000 RWF each and asked us for our phone numbers so that she could call us for more cleaning needs. She said she was impressed by how we organised the compound clean and fast. Maybe it used to take days to get it clean and from its vastness, the time one ended cleaning it, the initial sections would be messed again by dry leaves and flowers from the beautiful trees in her compound.

With that wage, we bought three plastic cups and plates. From the remaining, we bought a half bar soap, 5 kg of charcoal and 1 kg of banana. Though we were well fed during lunch time, the walk in addition to hard work made us hungry again. We cooked banana, added some dodo as our landlady had plenty of them, and she had already said that she let the tenants to use them so that they do not miss vital vitamins.

We added groundnut’s flour and took it hot. It was yummy and warming as the evening was becoming cold. We had a time of story-telling with neighbors up to the fall of the night and we went inside. We watched Agasobanuye (translated movie) an Indian love story of a couple dancing near a river, running in beautiful gardens and hugging themselves romantically, until 9:00pm and we slept satisfied. We had already acclimatized ourselves to city life and we now had so much hopes of our city life becoming good.

The next morning we woke up hoping to be employed but it was all in vain. We either sat for long at waiting place or passed asking if we could be hired. Even the day that followed, we failed to get a job. My heart started getting troubled. Carine also looked sad complaining that she hopped for a better life away from people who do not believe in her but it still gave no clear view about what was to come next.

Our hearts could rest for only four days since it was the only period our stock of food could take us; however both of us had absolutely no will to go back to the village, at least after making our lives fit outside. We kept filling our hearts with some hope to get jobs and to be able to get our needs met.

Chapter 3

Daring to Work

One evening, I received a call from the man who told me his name was Claudius. He reminded me that we had met and discussed about a bar he owned. We talked about diverse things. I came up with the thought of asking him if he could hire me since I was still unemployed. He agreed to meet with me in two days’ time. When he called after a few days, he requested that I meet him at his bar and I immediately went there.

The bar was in the down corner of the street, though the building seemed small from outside, inside it was big enough with sophisticated corners of a polygon. It was decorated in colorful swinging lights whose light was scattered by the metallic ribbons around the roof. It seemed to be like another world inside the dark despite all the moving lights. The mahogany counter with its tall stools around looked gigantesque, however the big refrigeration system on the left side and the enormous shelf of many but unique bottles, some small others big, stunned me that I opened my mouth staring at them in astonishment.

What a lucky day for me! I got employed to be in charge of that bar and accounts while another young man was in charge of the kitchen and there was still another young woman who worked as a waiter and cleaner. Claudius gave me a salary advance for that month so that I could get fancy clothes and make-up. He insisted that I should make sure I look presentable to attract customers. He sampled one girl, Katty who was dressed in a mini-miniskirt so that I could follow suit.

Wondering if I understood him well, Katty came closer. She was that middle length girl with big thighs which could be easily seen in her black mid-thigh skirt and a chest visible through her white shirt unbuttoned the two top buttons. I decided to look in her face so that our eyes could meet but she ignored my face. Her red lips shaded in a black line matched with her flat shoes while the mascara and eyeliners had made her eye wide open giving an illusion of them being white though I could easily trace red strings of blood vessels.

She wore her big braids in a pony making evidence of her beauty hidden behind the clouded make-up. Her egg-shaped fair symmetric face was so attractive that behind my mind I thought that even if I came at work naked everyone would still look at her. For a moment, I wandered what would be of me and I asked her to teach me to artificially embellish myself having in my mind an ideal way of competing with her just for the sake of making a living.

Kelly, I doubted whether I could stoop that low, but I cared less, furthermore I needed a lot and I hoped that it was my only chance. The task ahead of me was one that needed an attention from men. I was a bit upset but when I told Carine my fear, she encouraged me to accept the terms but maintain my cool spirit.

I had to start this demanding work the next day. Carine was still looking for a job, but she could relax a bit as I agreed to make sure that we had what to eat from my small salary. My salary was 60,000 RWF monthly. The first day I sat behind the counter avoiding moving into the bar with the uncomfortable skirt. I traced all previous accounts so that the work would be eased by entries as they happened.

The bar was not busy day time until later evening. Some customers took just a beer, paid and left, while others drank too much and made noise until midnight. I complained but Mucoma and Katty told me that was the order of the day. My head became heavy and I started becoming irritated. Luckily, Mucoma, the short but muscular gentleman, begged the last person to go home and we closed. When I reached home, Carine was already asleep.

Our next morning had chores to do with cleaning.  I stayed in bed for thirty minutes more to tell Carine how my first day at work had been. She listened and cheered me up. She told me that she heard of people getting daily casual jobs in the homes of the rich but the location was a bit far. She was planning to go, and in less than a while she left me home, just about to leave as well.

 My day was not different from the previous one. The only luck was that I left a bit early and found Carine still awake. She shared with me that she had gone out unsuccessfully except that a young woman had told her to come back the following day to wash clothes. She was hoping to even be asked to clean the compound or wash window panes.

This seemed to light some dull hopes. She was still courageous albeit the disappointments. We thought that she could ask that woman to tell her friends to offer her small ibiraka (daily wages done on call) like gardening, washing or cleaning their houses. Even if it used to be tiresome, she was ready to do the job meanwhile waiting for a suitable job.

Carine went out early in the morning. She walked for an hour and reached at her place of work to find that they had put all dirty clothes and basins out for her to start when she arrived. Her new boss told her to first assist her with washing dishes. They gave her bread and tea, and she washed dishes and continued with washing clothes. She finished washing at around 3:00 pm, the woman handed her 4000 RWF excusing herself for she had made her wash a lot.

She asked her to eat as she had previously refused to eat before finishing the task, meanwhile as they chatted, the woman asked her where she lived and where she had come from. She also told her to come and check if there was work to do on Mondays and Thursdays promising her just 2000 RWF for each of the jobs.

Carine walked back home and arrived at sunset. She bought small fish, tomatoes and cassava flour. The meal was nice, I enjoyed it as I had come home early; that evening we did not have many customers and the drunks who had come left early enough. Carine told me about her day’s success, and we both felt happy.  We waited for the next day’s surprise patiently as we retired to lay on our cheap second hand mattress.

Mucoma lent me his memory card so that we could watch movies. He had many dirty videos but we enjoyed watching a Nigerian movie that had romance and comedy. We saw another movie though it was a horror movie full of people getting their heads chopped off, shot or drowned. We decided to sleep so that we could manage to wake up early the next day.

Friday of that week, I reached at the bar to find it cleaned and more chairs added as Friday evenings used to be busy and we could expect more clients. The evening came soon, in the kitchen mushikakes (chunks of meat or fish barbecued, roasted or grilled on a skewer) were made ready. Customers started to come one by one, in twos or even in bigger groups, and sat according to their wishes and ordered what to be brought.

Many of them asked for mushikakes, mucomas potatoes (whole or halved Irish potato fried and seasoned by white onion and salt), and drinks, while others could ask for igisafuriya (stuffed chicken, turkey or rabbit where rice, potato, peas and vegetables were stuffed and cooked), rabbit (roasted) and chips or chicken with roasted plantains.

The kitchen was busy but the bar was as well. I was lucky to have prepared more drinks and Mucoma was being helped by his friend Rudomoro in the kitchen. Katty was kept busy, however she had no complaints after all slaps on the butts or touches on her breasts. She seemed to have gotten used to it. When the place became busy, I offered to help her to serve, she could ask me to issue commands and she took them to customers.

The day ended well but I could not imagine about how late we closed the bar, it was already morning! I slept for a while and I came back to the bar doing accounting and preparing for the afternoon. The customers started coming early in the afternoon, and we soon became busy and I could serve if Katty became overworked.

A group of men came in, they drank laughing loud, and they seemed to celebrate something. When they asked for more drinks, I served them as Katty was serving the other tables. One of them passed his hand under my arm and touched my boobs, I thought it was a mistake and I seemed to not mind. I continued giving them their drinks, the other complained of me bringing a Mutziig while he had ordered for a Turbo.

I went to change it, and when I finally leaned on his table to open it; he put his hand inside my shirt. I put the bottle down quickly, threw his hand off, and rushed to the counter shedding tears. I felt so abused and defiled. I was wondering how a gentleman could dare do a horrible thing like that, I remembered a Japanese proverb which condemns men who seduce girls in public but it did not calm me down.

 Katty realized it and came fast to comfort me saying that it would be alright. She asked me to stop crying telling me that it was part of the bar job to let customers touch attendants as a way of attracting them to the bar. I refused to believe in that fallacy and stayed in the counter just to give drinks and receive payments. Brother, do you understand how annoyed I felt? I wonder if you too used to abuse other peoples’ sisters that way.

From that day on, my task was to be behind the counter, giving drinks and receiving money. A strange man kept coming on Saturdays in a group of young men, I was the subject of their harassment; one time, they bet and sent one of them to come talk to me. He came and sat on the counter asking for beer. I gave him and he took the first glass silently. He asked for the second and started by telling me, "I am Vick, I work in a construction company, at this time after a whole week of vigorous work I feel exhausted so coming to relax here is my best option."

He continued by commenting on the match which was going on in the television while facing the big screen on the wall. He was admiring the shots and passes between players that I only remember one name- Ronaldo. I knew very few things about football and thus I simply smiled and told him that the game looked enjoyable. He asked me if I was a fan of any team and I replied that I didn’t even know any of them.

My response made him to start lecturing me on football; it was amazing the way he seemed to know everything related to football! Eleven players of the two opponent teams having to use their brains and muscles to follow the laws of the game like not touching the ball with their hands except for the goal-keeper and the one bringing it back from outside their playground limits. He talked of fouls, free-kicks, thrown-ins and penalties. He showed me the referee and his two assistants and he mentioned them being there to ensure the rules are followed and that they can give yellow card as a warning or red as a dismissal of the player.

My scanty knowledge on football was only about goals and penalties. He talked of the best teams from the UK, Spain, France, Italy, German, and when he mentioned Africa, he spoke of Ivory Coast, Cameroon and Algeria. All this while I wondered if my country Rwanda had a good team. I thought we had the best. I knew how they worked hard. He said that it was good but he immediately jumped to his favorite team Rayon Sport! He could recount how several players had shot nice goals! He kept me company and I did my job well.

Clients continued to enjoy while I was summing up the accounts for the day. In the kitchen, they were also becoming less busy; Mucoma cleaned the kitchen and dishes, and came for accounting. That day we had even accumulated a lot of money. Katty was happy as some clients had left their cash behind or had told her to ’keep change.’ The climate was so tender that late evening that we did not complain about two men who drank a lot and shouted until late. We cleared with the accounts of sales where we realized that we had had a good day’s sales.

I went home tired but happy. I found my sister already asleep but she had tears on her face. I waited until morning to ask what was disturbing her. When I lay on the bed, the images from the bar kept popping inside my head. I suddenly realized how I got happy and relaxed when Vick talked to me even if I ignored most of the things he said about football. I slept rejoicing because my day had been wonderful.

Early the next morning, I heard Katty moving in the house though she was doing everything quietly and silently. I woke up and sat on the bed rubbing my eyes to adapt to the light. She excused herself to have woken me up since she thought I needed more sleep. She said she woke up to prepare herself to go for worship at a nearby Pentecostal church. She also added that she felt worried by her not getting a job and that she wanted to start frequenting churches to attempt a chance of meeting a prophet.

Carine seemed convinced that attending plenty prayer rooms was her remaining chance. I had nothing to add despite my strong disagreement about passing time at church simply because one wanted to hear from foretellers or prophets. I tried  telling  her that she was not so down to lose hope since she had every Mondays and Thursdays to go Maman Bob who promised her at least RWF 2,000 each of those days and that she could sometimes get more day’s appointments.

 I reminded her how we got the house, a caring land lady and a mattress we got so cheaply. We had been blessed beyond what we could expect, I mentioned that even the clothes she was dressed on, she had gotten them from Maman Bob; emphasizing that she still had to believe that God cared for her and that she had to keep hoping. Carine used my own argument to convince me more of her reasons to frequent churches.

She was normally a Catholic goer but due to overloaded works at home, and with the church being miles away, she had rare the time to go to church. She confessed that her faith had plummeted; hence, she needed a new way of believing and even meet new people who would extend her circle of friends. I understood her and asked her to pray for me. They say that religion is opium for the poor, but this time, I believed in its power.

Meanwhile, we took maize-sorghum porridge without sugar as we had no more left and we were not willing to run into more debts. I thought of going with her to church but my Sundays were loaded with huge tasks of cleaning the bar after being messed the previous night. She also left me washing my clothes, which I finished in a hush and went to help Katty cleaning the bar.

Our morning was spent cleaning every crevice and corner of the bar. We worked till we saw people coming from churches and from their third Mass for Catholic believers. Some couples passed by and took a drink or even accompanied with some mushikakes. Evening came so soon and young men came to watch their favorite match while drinking. We closed earlier as soon as the match had ended and after everyone had emptied his or her beer and left.

I was offered an opportunity to go home early enough so that I could help Carine to cook. I passed by the shop and bought ½ kg of sugar, 1 litre of cooking oil, 2 kgs of Irish potatoes and a quarter kg of small fish. We made French chips and green vegetables with the small fish. The supper was super good that we were happy about having gotten a yummy nutritious meal.

 We used the remaining time of the evening to discuss about what we could do so that Carine could get a job. I thought of asking my boss to employ her as a waiter but she refused immediately. I thought of asking Vick if he could help me but I had to wait until we become close friends.  I knew deep within myself that my sister would lose hope. She accepted to courageously continue seeking for a job while I would do my best to pay for what we needed especially for food.

Carine continued to work for Maman Bob who could sometimes orient her to friends for clothes washing jobs or to go for aide-maçon, the jobs which required a lot of energy, however she was happy as we could add-up to pay the rent and basic needs for poverty stricken people. Our relationship was smooth though life was tough. We knew how to take care of each other. I did my best to provide for the necessaries while she patiently sought for jobs. We prayed fervently for her job to come soon.

Several weeks later, I happened to discuss with Vick about his work, he told me that he worked for a construction company at some sites. I asked him if he was involved in hiring workers, and he answered in the affirmative.  I recommended Carine to him. He agreed to meet her that evening and he told her to come Monday morning to work as an aide-maçon reassuring her that it was a good start with even though it was hard. Both of us were happy now she had gotten a job. She told Maman Bob that she would not make it anymore to work for her unless on Saturdays.

Though few women worked as aide-maçons, in the company of men, they do their best; they carried clothes to change when they reached at their work places, lotion or cream to apply after work and the evening they would go home clean and smelling good. She could not stay home even when her menses pained for fear of losing her daily wage. At least on my side, I could sleep on the counter or have a hot drink if my womanly pride rose while at my work place.

Carine became more happy and civilized; the friends at work taught her to dress nicely and sooner or later she started dropping the villager’s mannerism. I was happy for my friend and we shared the dream of a better future. Of course, we used to fight about whose turn it was to cook since I used to come home late and she used to be tired after her long day of carrying cement mixtures or bricks. Nevertheless, we always helped each other and understood each other. A friend in need is a friend in deed.

As time passed, Vick became close to me, every time he would leave some money for me. I started feeling attracted to him but I was not sure if he felt something for me or if he just dredged me to obtain acclamations from his friend who used to applaud him every time he came to talk to me. My heart was filled with uncertainties and pessimism. I started pretending that I was not interested in him by keeping myself busy.

Vick realized it and started talking about how Carine was very courageous and that the company would be calling her every time it had a construction site. He regained my attention slowly by bringing big biscuits, leaving some money behind or buying for me mushikakes that I happily shared with Katty. Katty also shared with me what her friends bought for her. Our boss was always happy with us for we would always exceed his expectations in sales.

Katty was ever smiling and beautiful. She every time wore simple but delicate make-up. She showed me where to get my hair done nicely at a low price, to buy nice dresses and the magic lotion. She liked Vick but she had other suggestions for me saying that they could provide more. She cautioned me about a man who just passed by over the weekend taking his time to relax with me. From my side, I didn’t feel like getting money from men. I had a sense of independence. A strong lady must rise above expecting from men.

Katty once shared with me that her salary was 40,000 RWF which was very small to sustain the daily needs. With that kind  of money she would get used to milking more from her clients who visited the bar and made a deal with her to have some ’good time’ together. She looked beautiful and rich compared to what she made in her monthly salary. I kept refusing her advice for long, despite how she incessantly tried to convince me.

With time, my expenses increased to the point that I no longer had enough of my monthly salary. The situation became more complex; Katty’s persistent messages sank in my mind and I started to realize that people would talk behind me that I worked every day but I did not look like other women. Not having a smart-phone or nice clothes was a topic of discussion to them. It was an arousal that started dragging me to give in to sleeping with the guys who used to offer me a lot of money just for one round late after other customers had left.

The first day, one man found me behind the counter and I realized that Katty had been in the corner with the other one. They left much money to each of us separately; he handed me 10,000 RWF which I used to buy the food stock. I felt guilty but also thankful since we were able to eat well for at least five more days. As days went on, I became more relaxed and open though I knew that gaining money through  that means was giving in too much  but it helped me to get my daily needs covered.

Vick continued to approach me and one day he invited me to pay him a visit on a Saturday evening. I let Katty know about it since we told each other of our love affairs. She gave me ’tips’ to make the night memorable. Vick confessed that he did not know that I was that ’sweet.’  I felt proud of course, but I needed to hear from him some words of love. However, with the sentiments that he uttered that night he did not let the magic word escape his mouth. The night was colorful and romantic. I discovered what the other world had to offer.

In the morning, he woke up earlier, made breakfast and brought to me in bed. After kissing me again, he showed me the clothes he had bought for me. I tried them while he took photos showing me how they looked nice on me. He accompanied me around noon to work. That afternoon I was so happy and Katty kept telling me that it was a nice date to nourish myself so that our love could grow. I wondered how to continue doing so, but Katty just laughed at me for being such a greenhorn.

Reaching home, I found Carine worried about where I had slept and she furiously asked me why I did not tell her that I would not come. I lied that to her that I could not reach her since her phone was not working and that I decided not to come since it was already late. I did not dare to tell her about passing a night with a man, as I knew her prejudices especially after that she had met women who used to take her in special prayer chambers when she was not at work or to pass a night at church.

Carine relaxed when I gave her one dress, the one, which did not fit me well as she was bigger than me. She told me how good the church service was, saying that the preacher of the day had talked about ‘peace and wealth after struggles of these days’. She was amazed from that sermon noting that it seemed as if it was a prophecy directed to her. She strongly believed that it was meant for her and I encouraged her that by believing we possess what we believe in.

Continuously, I fell in love with Vick and I could not resist his invitations. He was so proud of me that he used to openly kiss me when he came with his friends for their weekend cocktail meeting. His friends would make loud applauses for him and that made him more active; being the one to pay for the bills, leaving more money and buying for me drinks.

By the way, even Mucoma was very happy for making more mushikakes that he enjoyed to share with us if Vick paid for them and for all of us after work. Mucoma praised him a lot for being a generous and irresistible gentleman. Mucoma could not stop telling me that I was lucky to have attracted Vick in a way that no one else could think. He apologized on the behalf of his group mates who tried to sexually molest me the first time they saw me and I became quick to forgive them.

 I kept having other men who frequented the place during working days. Carine was immersed in matters  church, she had to attend prayers so frequently that we had no more time to talk in addition to our continuous misunderstanding about our beliefs and her radicalism about people who frequent bars. At the church, they strongly advised her neither to drink nor entertain people who drink.

I understood her after a long discussion everyone defending their side, since beliefs were what matters for her though I kept telling her that holiness is neither measured by how many church services one attended nor how many bars one frequented. I tried to make up my face since I had stopped going to Sunday Masses long ago and I knew how judgmental she was becoming despite our tight link of friendship.

Chapter 4

The Unexpected

Some months later, I was struck by hearing that she was pregnant from person they met in night prayer program. She cried a lot and refused to go neither to work, market nor church refusing to be seen, especially by the women at church. The situation was made worse when she made her mind to let the guy know that she was pregnant. Astonishingly, the guy denied her saying that he was not the only man who could impregnate.

Carine was more sad than I could remember ever seen her in such state. She was broken but she decided to accept her fate and continued to go to work and no longer going to church. To her, she could not stand the judgments from the women she had been praying with in special prayer chambers.

Wise people say that a thorn in someone’s foot does not prevent you from sleeping. I continued with my normal life though for her she was becoming weaker but having no choice except to go on with her life as an aide-maçon. Her feet swelled and her hair turned pale because she had insufficient nutrients intake and she worked for long hours at the construction site; carrying cement or bricks up to the second floor.

Carine tried to go for pre­natal screening, but the center official told her to come with her husband. In spite of her telling them that the father of the baby had denied her and was not willing to hear from her they insisted that she had to come with him, she left sad. She became aware of what she was made from, totally a warrior to the last breath and decided to withhold her tears.

That day, she was really in pain that I had to cry with her.  She was determined to go on with her pregnancy despite all the problems that she encountered. However with no will to tell me who was that man who brought her in troubles despite how as a Christian, she believed that confession is good for the soul. Going forward, she tried to save and buy baby stuff from her meagre resources.

Carine entered into labor when I was still at work and neighbors came to call me. Maria offered to help her since they had talked about the situation. She was preparing her the bed and what they needed. Maria assisted her to deliver a baby boy successfully. I was scared, for it was my first time to see someone giving birth. After the delivery process, Maria asked me to give her the big Primus, which she drunk fast and fell deep asleep for a short while.

We left her to rest for a while Maria took care of the baby inspecting it for any defect, while cleaning and clothing it. She was happy to hold the small boy that she would continue to cherish as her grandson. I made sorghum porridge and put in the vacuum flask that Maria lent us.

I cooked Isombe (pound cassava leaves) with ikinono (cow leg) (The traditional recipe of pound cassava leaves cooked with cow’s leg meat having bone marrow in which groundnut flour, fats and seasonings are added) for the new  lactating mother, the foods were believed to be the best to feed a woman from labor. 

Maria woke Carine up ordering her to feed the small angel. She breast fed him looking at him. I was wondering what she had in mind. The kid slept and his mother covered him in warm sky blue clothes. We gave her a cup of porridge. She took isombe, enjoying ikinono with rice as Maria told her that it would help her to get breast-milk and recover soon.

Maria took time to advise Carine on how she would take care of the baby in those delicate days and how to treat her wounds. Maria was so kind that she offered to be cleaning the baby for at least five days while the mother recovered and learnt to do it by herself. Vick kept asking about Carine’s situation. The news was amazing to him and he immediately sent 5,000 RWF for sugar. He sounded very happy.

Maria reminded me to be kind enough to help my girlfriend until she recovered, which meant that I was supposed take a leave of at least three days from work. When I called my boss to ask him a short leave and he refused. He insisted that, I could use the hours that we did not have clients. I agreed for I had to obey so that we could be able to afford food and other basic needs. I thought of using morning hours to help her and come home early enough to check on her.

At least Carine had been clever enough to save for clothing and porridge flour to take her and the boy for up to two months but the soap and water consumption became too much that I complained inside me. Our bed was not sufficient for all of us now that there was a baby; I had to make a small bed on the other side for myself.

Fortunately, Carine bought a new mattress on which she slept with the boy and I managed on our first one. The room had to be rearranged to accommodate us; we bought woven furniture (a simple bed, 2 shelves; one for dishes, another for clothes, 3 seats and a small table). The sitting place right at the entrance was composed of the three seats side by side with the small table in the center. 

The stove and dish’s shelf was behind the door, while the bed was put adjacent to the wall together with the shelf containing clothes while under the bed, a basin for the baby’s clothes. The room looked very nice during daytime but every night I had to put chairs on top of each other to create enough space for my bed. My daily routine included waking up early in the morning every day to reorganize the house to hide our evening’s congestion. This would deny me sleep especially in my off days, and somehow made me to start thinking more.

We had an agreement to be good friends. I tried my best to help Carine as she stayed home with a hope of her recovering sooner. The washing and cooking was an exhaustion that I had to add to my daily chores. Sometimes my tempers would flare but I used to relieve myself with a drink that Katty and I used to make by blending gin and a little soda. Some evenings before going back home, the men could drink until they felt like the last thing they needed was sex. I never understood the connection between alcohol and sex since I was a naïve teetotaler, but after some observing the motion at bar, I learnt about alcohol beclouding one’s judgement.

The temptation to let myself into their charms was so high to relieve my exhaustion in addition to plenty of money that the men would leave afterward. However, since Vick seemed to prove that he wanted me even if he never mentioned in words, I gave myself to believe in him. I had to dodge other men who wanted me to ’open my legs’ for them.

Nevertheless, since I had started to sleep down near the door with extreme coldness, I felt as if their intention caught up with mine. As an organized woman, I couldn’t give in easily because   I wanted Vick to find me special and engage himself but he seemed to wait for a backup of applauses from his cheering friends. I really wanted to feel loved and secured in my loved one’s hand, and I was ready to fight for our love, to sacrifice my once belief.

Maman Boss called on my telephone to know about Carine. Carine had several weeks without going to help her on Saturdays since she was not able any more, let alone going to work for few days a week as before. She was very happy when she learnt that Carine had no complications. She said that the next day she would come to check on her. As she came, she kept calling me for direction.

She arrived at around 11:00am and on a motorbike. Maman Boss had a beautiful plastic basket in which she brought plenty fruits (ripe banana, oranges, prune tomatoes, passion fruits, apples, and two big pineapples). She also handed me a bag that contained soap, sugar, oil, rice and flour. We thanked her a lot but said it was normal for her to visit a mother especially when she was her friend. She sat on our simple couch and carried the baby in her hands, telling jokes and recounting her labor experiences. She was so funny more than I had thought before.

We offered her a Fanta but she refused with an excuse that she would not take longer. She pulled from her handbag a baby’s blanket and a pair of trousers accompanied by a sky blue shirt and pullover for the boy. Moreover, she also handed Carine a paper envelope. By that sign, she said that she wanted to go and wait for her kids so that they would not miss her when they come home for lunch break.

I accompanied her to the road where she took a moto and left while waving at me. The supply she brought was sufficient to keep us for several days eating like rich people. Carine was very happy after realizing that the envelope contained 20k; we decided to buy a kilo of small fish, beans, peanuts and a sack of charcoal.

 A bright idea popped in her mind of buying a drink for Maria just as a sign of thanking her. Maria did not refuse the drink but she was rather saying that the money was worth something else. This resembled the story in the good book when Mary Magdalene bought expensive perfume and used it on the precious feet of her master.

The weekend arrived very fast. I expected Vick to come charming as usual but he did not come alongside his friends who sat and drank with loud bursts of laughter. They had a lot of news to exchange and they blended with moments of funny songs, cheering up and shouting simultaneously. My mind was full of thoughts wondering where he might have been as it had been days without talking to him. I felt lonely and sad. The evening was cool; we had many clients but I was praying that they leave early so that I could go to relax my eyes and my pain.

We got busy throughout that Katty and I did not have time to make stories, but I was happy that clients cleared at around 11:00 pm. We closed the accounts, did some cleaning and we called it a day. I asked Mucoma to accompany me. I got Carine up breast-feeding her baby. We chatted while I was making the bed and slipped in it sooner and kept silent pretending that I was sleeping to try to keep my eyes from crying, but I could not after long days without hearing from Vick.

Chapter 5

Desperate love

Calling Vick was out of question.  I wanted to use my womanly energy of ‘be not do’ but this time I felt more pressure in my heart that I attempted to call him. For that night, I managed to hold myself and lie in bed wondering about his silence, feeling empty in my heart. The morning came, I could not tell if I had slept. I woke up, removed the bed, organized the house and made the porridge. Carine washed the baby, fed him and clothed it in the warm clothes then washed its clothes and hers. 

Carine was able to do small tasks, I put the food on the stove and went to work. With Katty, we arranged the furniture in the bar, ordered drinks while Mucoma was doing preparations in the kitchen.  The tasks were rather easy but my energy was focused on resisting to let people see my anguish and desperation. In spite of my efforts, Katty kept telling me that in recent days I had changed and refused her recommendations of evening rounds or take away.

Of course I had changed, but I did not want her to know that I no longer appreciated her lifestyle. I wanted to make myself a wife material to attract the attention of Vick. The evening men did not seem to mind my drastic abnormal behavioral change. I sustained my resistance to Katty‘s lectures.

One Sunday evening, it was about to reach the night fall, I was unable to control my nostalgia and despite my attempt to use female energy, I called Vick’s number desperately but he did not pick. This increased my worry even if his group the day before seemed to be relaxed as usual. I tried the number again after ten minutes still with no response. I was wondering what happened though I had nothing else to do. I went home early and slept immediately after the blended drink.

Silence was all over in our small universe. Early in morning my phone rang. My first sleepy thought was that it could be an alarm that I nearly ignored it until I realized that it was making too much noise. When I tried to dismiss it I found that it was a call which ended as soon as I grabbed the gadget. I was trying to see whose call when the call popped up and I realized it was Vick. I picked immediately and I heard him speaking with charms as normal.

I was reassured. I hid my former worries and just listened to what he had to say until eventually I heard a feminine voice in the background calling him to come for breakfast. I realized the voice as it sounded familiar but I kept my temper. My lover pretended not hear the voice calling him, but the woman came closer.

Maybe she did not know that he was on call. Vick was taking longer to get her attention. I got frustrated as the voice sounded familiar, I could not mistake it. She sounded like Katty and as she approached, it became clearer. However, he hung up the call saying he would call me later claiming to prepare himself for his Monday’s activities.

Definitely, I was more puzzled than when he did not call or pick my calls. I was wondering if Vick was already married or if Katty could cheat me on a man I loved and cherished. Tears rolled down my cheeks however I covered myself pretending to sleep. Carine immediately spoke like from nowhere in the silence, asking how Vick was. I did not want to respond but she insisted saying that he seemed to have special attention for me as he kept telling her the same when she was still going to work.

Her comments calmed me; or rather, she wanted me to feel loved so that I do not ask myself many things. Instead, I asked her about the small boy, she replied that he had been sleeping peacefully like an angel. Then, I asked her if she was feeling better, and she responded that it was better though she still had some pains and bleeding. I got concerned if it was a serious flow but she mentioned that when she asked Maria about the same, Maria told her it might last some few more days then disappear.

We talked for too long to realize that the sun was already in the horizon spreading its luminescence and magnificence. The day looked beautiful enough to enlighten my inside. Our morning habit of cleaning the room, making cereal porridge, subsequent arrangement of dishes, did not take long as usual. I bathed quickly and went to work.

It was already getting hot when I got in the bar. I went inside and did some calculations of sales, and ordered more drinks because the store was merely empty. We had had a good weekend. It was even an end of the month, so I kept myself busy in the calculations for up to three hours and then played a movie on the screen that faced the counter and sat waiting for customers.

Katty arrived when I was adding up sales and went straight to the kitchen to relax with Mucoma. She came back to watch the movie as it was her favorite. She seemed not willing to talk and I kept commenting about the movie. I too liked it very much. Katty felt relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the movie. Her moods and late arrival made me wonder if she was not at Vick’s place. However, she did not mention anything about him, so, I kept quiet.

Few clients passed by during early evening hours leaving us with an opportunity to go home earlier. On my way, Vick called me. His romance and charms were as normal. I slowed down my step, we talked for so long that I was engulfed in an imaginary universe of two of us when Mucoma came behind me to tell me that my boss was at the bar and wanted me to go back and have a talk with him. He agreed to call me later if alerted him after meeting the boss.

My boss had been away for some weeks, he was talking about distribution of fertilizers and many rural areas he had visited. He just talked about it for a short time and asked all of us if we had encountered any difficulties. We replied not at all. We showed him the book of accounts and handed him the money. He left shortly claiming to be tired. I alerted Vick as soon as I left the bar. He called immediately as if he had been waiting impatiently and we continued to talk throughout the evening.

After going inside my bed, I could not stop thinking of him. The previous night, flashes of my parents kept moving in my mind. I believed that he was different enough to be able to change my perception about myself. That night, the thought of our brutal father did not leave my mind and I wanted to know what might have happened that he had to quarrel my mother up to the point of ending their marriage by a bloody fight.

I remembered the figure of my mother, an ever-sad woman, with her unending complaints of many stuff that dad had refused her. Perhaps, to be a nice woman, one needs to be silent, peaceful and never complain but she continuously said that she was no longer able to calm her misery. Whenever she mentioned a small thing, the fight had to start. However, the complaints of mum seemed reasonable enough to be solved instead of constant quarrels.

I kept wondering why instead of them sitting down to resolve their differences, they kept fighting like baby birds. The fact that dad did not like me or appreciate any of my little achievements made me think of that as the issue was more complex. My head pained and I slept in a simple hope that one day a man will make me forget that awful life under my own father’s tyranny.

My sleep was peaceful or rather enjoyable until Vick rang my phone again. When I picked it, he just said, "Good morning my honey, I hope you’ve had sweet dreams!" .I replied with a smile or lovely laugh and simply said "yes, and you?" He told me that he was healthy and hearty and that he had already reached the work at a new construction site where they were still making the foundation. He was eager to start a new construction saying that the plan was so good and he wished he could get one for himself in the future.

He asked me about my day, but my days look the same so I said that I expected it to be good as usual. I just mentioned about working days being calm and he commented immediately that people are always busy at their work places and miss good times at pubs and bars. Nevertheless, he said that one day he would pass by to see how the mood was at our place during working days.

At work, we continued to increase sales, people kept coming in a huge numbers that our Boss was happy and offered to increase our salary by 5,000 RWF each, and bring another cook and hire a part time waiter. For the cook we recommended to him a friend of Mucoma who used to help him if he was overworked during the weekends. While for the waiter, he said we could think about it later or he could also bring one if he got. I thought of Carine and asked her if she minded coming to work at the bar as a part time and she agreed since she was not yet able to carry heavy materials.

My boss accepted her with only one condition that she would never come with the baby in the bar. She was casually booked to be coming to work during the weekends or any other time whenever we needed her. She had to see a way of handling where the boy would be left while she was at work. I had no idea of what to do and she seemed nervous. We thought of buying a rolling basket (pram) to bring him and let him in the counter but we could not trust Katty of not reporting  to the Boss or that even Ivan (the baby) could cry and make clients complain.

Since Ivan was still 2 months old, he could sleep long enough to allow his mother to move around especially on Fridays, Saturdays and Sunday evenings. The first Friday, she bathed him, breast-fed him and laid him in the warm clothes; she came around 5:00 and after an hour or an hour and half she could go back to check on him. The second time she went to check on him, she took long and I realized that the boy may have been crying. It was getting past 9pm, and she decided not come back instead prepared the evening meal.

Two men came to sit on the counter and started mocking the new waitress (Carine) saying that she was not smelling good, she looked ugly with her flabby belly and had a reserved mood. The other one added eagerly that they did not like her. I could not know why they were talking to me so. Maybe they wanted to hurt me or they did not know that we lived together. My heart was torn as they continued to argue about Carine. One of them said that she even looked like a woman and uncontrollably I interjected that she had a cute baby.

My lack of wisdom made the things worse they got mad and shouted too much, complaining that they cannot drink a beer served by a woman who had been handling baby’s poo. The other clients got angry and the fight started, some saying that they should not be ridiculous. Some were like; "You do not know if she has a baby and if she has it does not matter since she has to work to feed the kid." Some said that she was clean and they did not realize the wrongs that the two other men were talking about. They added that they were only enjoying their drinks not sneaking into someone’s life.

Katty was confused while I was crying just praying silently that Carine does not come back. Luckily, the two men accepted to leave and the remaining customers continued with their businesses. One group held Katty for long as she served them more beer, she was laughing with them. She told me that they were asking clear and reliable information about what the people were talking about. She told them the reality and some of them skeptically laughed at the story or asked if there any problem with Carine being a waiter.

Before leaving that evening, some people passed at the counter telling me to greet her or to tell her not to come back. That evening, I had no idea of what to say, I condemned myself to have made her to come in this insane society.  I was too sad to talk or eat but I had to pretend that all was okay so that I do not have to explain what the matter was. We ate rice and vegetables made of carrots, tomatoes and beans. We talked of how the job was. Carine was worried about her little kid but for the job, she expected to get used to the situation.

Unable to tell her what had happened after she left the previous evening, I pretended to have no worries and did my morning routine. I washed all our clothes and went to my work place. Carine had to come later in the afternoon when the clients would start to increase in the bar.  I passed my day gathering my strength to face mockeries. When she came, she looked beautiful wearing a simple make-up and I happened to approach her to see if she smelled strange, but what I could get was her modest natures lotion. I was worried and I kept my eyes on her.

 Some of the men of the previous day did not come back and the ones who came seemed to do not pay attention to her as they were discussing on a heated debate that I could not catch. She carried the beers to a table in the corner and the members held her teasing her, when she became firm they let her go but the neighboring table asked her to bring more drinks and one man squeezed her boob in a way may be to test the previous day’s theory.

 Whatever he wanted he got it, as breast-milk spilled on him and the remainder of the group laughed loudly.  She did her best to hold the anger while looking at him with bewilderment. She left crying silently while the man tried to wildly shout at her. The members of his group laughed at him jokingly that he wanted to be breastfed or that he missed his mother which made him angrier. I did not pay attention to what went on with him as I followed Carine outside with nothing to say and advised her to head home.

Chapter 6

The curse of being a woman

Crying for being dejected simply because she had given birth, Carine held her baby and let her tears to fall on him while he looked at her as if they had a secret way of communicating. I think she was regretting to have accepted to continue her pregnancy or asking herself rhetorical questions about the future of her little kid. In the bar, the man continued to create chaos complaining that he came to drink not to get breast milk spilled on him. Other men drove him crazy telling him that he wanted to remind himself how the breast milk tasted.

He shouted until some gentlemen got tired of his noise and ordered him to leave them peacefully. Astonishingly, he started saying that he would not pay if some people could dare command him to go away while he came by himself. In his group, one person offered to accompany him out but with all the chaos, we were unable to make him pay. The guy who remained seated silently among that group said he would pay for both of them.

That evening took longer than I had ever experienced. When the closing time finally arrived, I rushed home to lay my shame inter-twined with anger in the cold bed on the floor. I ’flashed’ Vick; just to know if he was okay. He did not call back immediately and I used the time to tender Carine who was crying like a baby.

Maria had been home, I could tell by the tea I found in the vacuum flask and herbs she had been bringing to Carine as medicine even though I did not know what the baby suffered from. She refused to be comforted and I respected her will to cry out her pain. I sat staring at or blurrily looking at her wondering why all of that had to happen.

Vick later called. We talked while I was taking food and tea. I kept my problems with me but as he pestered me on what happened in the bar in his absence, I could not resist to tell him everything. He was utterly sorry just telling me to relax and to calm Carine. He convinced me that soon everyone would forget the horrible scene of that evening.

Carine was not willing to go back to work again. We called the boss Sunday afternoon telling him what happened. He was already furious, I did not know what they told him, and by the way, many of our clients were his friends or knew each other. Carine was already crying when he started shouting his ferocity and handed me the phone to continue with him. I apologized sincerely for having let him call her for the job.

He continued to be furious saying that she was not clean and that Carine had let his clients go. He added that Carine should have made sure that her personal affairs were covered not to be a subject of discussion in the plain center of the causing such chaos. I wished that time could pass fast to mop away the shame, confusion and pain caused by that evening.

It seemed like my prayer was answered. The time elapsed so fast that the mood was becoming better again without anyone asking or mocking about the breast milk spilt after a whole month of smirks and tale telling about the event. Boss passed by as if to share a drink with his friends but I thought he was observing our movements in every single angles. He got up and went in the kitchen asking me to meet him in the kitchen.

 I was surprised to hear from him that he was sorry for what happened with Carine and that he was angry because he received a bad version of the story. He said that just to excuse himself and he again offered to hire her for simple cleaning job which she could do in the morning or without anyone to disturbing her. The salary was to be 30,000RWF. I thanked him and promised him to convince her to come back.

This time she was reserved or not willing to come. However, it was the only way to get some money to cloth her kid because she could not leave him to go for jobs at construction sites. She would wake up early, clean the house and put the boy on her back to clean her stuff at the bar. While for me, I had an illusion of all being well since with Vick, romantic life was smooth and we were happy.

However Brother Kelly, the idea of not knowing where and how you are made me unhappy. I also wished to go and visit dad to bombard him with plenty of questions, but my instincts told me to drop that issue. Seriously, I wonder if you ever happen to think of me Kelly. Do you?

The idea of visiting my father haunted me and I decided to go and visit him in the prison. The first time, I realized that I had nothing to tell him and I returned mid-way. With the mental support of Vick and Carine, I made my mind to go for the second time. Carine accompanied me and I felt supported to be able to face my own father.

He looked calm, emaciated, aged and spoke very less. He asked me about you but I had no news. We had been separated for approximately four years.  I looked at him with his wasted body, whitened hair and reserved speeches, and I felt pity for him but a sharp rage rushed in my mind when he said that he was sorry that the past had been too dark due to him. I got up and went without a goodbye; Carine did it for me and found me outside the prison compound.

Having someone to take care of me, concerned about my daily news, helped me to recover from my heartbreak after the visit I paid to my father.  Vick cherished me, gave me many gifts. He had reduced his frequency at the bar, instead, used to invite me to his house. His attention was completely on me that he forgot about the other girls. Whether he used to have more I did not know, but Katty has as well changed too much.

 Her behavioral change might mean something; she seemed to recognize easily every single item I had from Vick as if she knew him from his depth.  I did not pay attention for the first time, but she had started to talk bad things about Vick or showing no respect to him, especially when he happened to come to talk to me privately. I can say that she was jealous by the way she suddenly became irritant especially in men related matters.

He kept his word about coming one day during working days. A Wednesday evening, he came after sunset. He came in a grey new pick-up that he immediately told me that it was for the company’s transport. He greeted me while I tried to hug him and he raised me to his height and kissed me. Katty looked outraged whereas Mucoma laughed proudly. He greeted them, receiving compliments from Mucoma that he was a gentleman.

He thanked Mucoma for the compliment by offering him a bottle of Turbo King. I felt proud to have fallen in love with a generous man. He was happy which made him look more charming than ever. He unloaded a heavy sack, which he gave me saying that he thought that I would need them. The bag contained a three litre sun seed oil bottle, potatoes, tomatoes, sugar and rice. I thanked him and tried to put them behind the counter but he suggested that I take them home and come as soon as possible.

I obeyed and handed them to Carine whom we met on the way as she was going to look for what to cook in the evening. She was happy as she liked potatoes and we had no money since the salary for the month was not yet given to us. I came back quickly to the bar finding my phone ringing, it was my boss. He was asking for explanations of me leaving my work place.  I told him that I was just out leaving the phone inside the counter. He tried to frighten me that if I do it again he will suck me. I wondered how he knew that I was not there.

My instincts were right nonetheless. Finding Katty and Vick quarrelling about what they refused to let me know, I got worried. Vick as a gentleman requested that the Igisafuriya be shared by all of us (him, Katty, Mucoma, Rudomoro and I).  He sat on the counter staring at me while Katty went to sit in the corner playing with her phone. He had many funny stories, we laughed for long without realizing the passing of time.

Soon Mucoma came and put the food on the table while Rudomoro came with water to wash our hands. We sat on a round a table waiting for Katty. She refused to come and Rudomoro cracked funnily saying that being no longer able to hold the attention of a guy because of Ruth does not mean that you have to be mean. Reporting to the Boss also pretending not to want to eat was laughable to all of us because he knew she liked the Igisafuriya.

We all laughed but I looked at Vick who seemed embarrassed but he laughed with us. Mucoma requested Katty simply to come and sit near us even if she did not want to eat. She was scandalized by Rudomoro’s remarks but she fought for her pride and came saying that she did not understand his sootiness.

Vick left us in the bar. Mucoma went in the kitchen while Rudomoro continued to shout with Katty who was forbidding him to mention any of what he said before. Nevertheless, Rudomoro took it funny and disclosed all of what he knew about Katty passing nights with Vick before my arrival or how she kept seducing him while he had changed the direction of his attention.  With Mucoma, they kept making jokes about her.

Through their stories, I realized that the day she came late, she was at his house and that she was the one to tell our boss what used to happen in the bar though she used to add salt and pepper. Inside me, I was burning with anger but I hid it and I would join the loud stories with a simple laugh.

Our clients too kept laughing, taking the time to add their views. Katty was shaken by the laughs of the guys, she left before everyone else. When we closed, I asked Mucoma to accompany me, he accepted and with Rudomoro, they accompanied me. On the way, we saw her standing behind a wall, she must have been waiting for me for a night fight but she had failed as I thought I would meet some danger on my way home.

Confused about what happened, I went home and talked to Carine but she seemed not to understand all of those chaotic stories.  Vick called me and kept me busy; he wanted to know what happened after he left. I gave him the story in every detail and he laughed saying that Rudomoro was funny. Me too, I thought they were just joking but visibly Katty was choked by their tales.  He calmed me, advising me to not attach a lot of care to their tales.  Nevertheless, I was unable to believe him after the way he reacted about those tales despite how I was trapped in the crazy love for him.

Eventually, he won my total attention that I started feeling that he was my Mr Right. We were inseparable that everyone around knew us; he used to come and sit on the counter talking to me. He was eager to kiss me in public though I had always been shy and reluctant. He needed public affirmation. He cherished me a lot, with many gifts including a smart phone. I felt loved even in the midst of prejudices about me being poor, or my best friend having to raise her kid alone after a bitter rejection by the baby’s father.

Katty had been feeling offended even by simple details after the tale telling evening. I wished we could reunite and keep peace with her but she was clear enough that our friendship had died the time I started frequenting her former boyfriend’s place. She loved him dearly, and especially, the evening that he pretended to never had known her holding my waist and kissing me in her presence, that really ’killed’ it.

Driven by the ever-growing sentiments for him, I wished we could have just gotten married. They say that if one needs to be somewhere, one has to prepare for what it takes. I saved as much as I could, equipping our house modestly and developing manners of abakobwa. My heart was taken away, my dreams were just with him and it did not take me long to change my plans.

Chapter 7

Love gone sour

Vick proposed that I could move in with him saying that he felt like he needed me closer. Though I wanted him closer too, I refused and gave an excuse that I had always wanted to leave home with a big cortege of my friends accompanying me and with an amazing party and I in white bridal dress with flowers joining my husband for a new journey. He just smiled and kept quiet.

Rather he made me try to visit my father for the second time. We organized to go together on a Friday. I had no idea of how the meeting with my father would be. He came with the car to pick me as the Prison was far in miles. I was happy to go with him to the fearful trip. My father was worried that I might be still be difficult  like the previous time but a spell from nowhere kept me in harmony and we just talked.

Daddy appreciated the fact that I had thought to bring my lover to meet with him but he was not happy despite how he tried to hide it. He still had more decade behind the bars, one could think it was about his miserable situation. But his coldness covered secrets that he hid for a lifetime including the fact that he denied to had problems with his wife and that the incident of that night was a pure accident.

Vick left an amount that I did not know and we left. He played a soft romantic music that he used to sing backing it up while I was busy eating samosas and sipping some cool juice in turns.  I had many questions in my mind. I was especially worried concerning the state of my father being reserved as if he did not like my boyfriend, but since he did not mention anything, I just minded my peace.

Both of us were drowning in sweet romance; that evening we ’enjoyed’ fully. We talked about our dreams together and I slept in his arms. The morning was much better as we tried to recover the energy we lost the previous night. I stayed with him over the weekend just making sure that I go to work. It was as if I had moved in with him though I did not take my stuff with me just an act of precaution. With him, I was happy; he also started to gain weight according to his friends who became my own friends one by one.

Katty had resigned from work, and kept distance as if we never knew each other. She went to work in a neighboring guest-house as a receptionist. Our Boss hired a new girl as soon as Katty left. The new waiter, Diana was lovely and kind. She was of high self-esteem that even a drunkard could not dare to look down on her. Kelly, I don’t know how to explain, but I enjoyed Diana’s friendship.

Besides, I learnt to make table clothes preparing just in case I got married. I wanted to have reserves. However, after more than a month I did not receive my menses and informed Carine that I did not ’go to the moon’ in the normal expected period. She immediately told me that I might have gotten pregnant adding that my body shape had changed and that I had strange behaviors. I waited for another month but it did not come. I confirmed that I was expecting.

Vick seemed amazed by the news despite the way I kept telling him that I’d rather like kids to come after marriage as a way of protect my womanly dignity and my legitimacy. I was sad but I knew that a baby would be a lovable gift to help me quit my solitude. My heart was confused between the two extremes, I cried buckets of tears but outside I kept being a jolly good and happy woman to avoid mockeries.

Days of happiness were shallowly darkened by my fear though I un-lassably tried to be happy. As it was my duty day, I went to fetch water, washed and cooked before going to work. I had a deep fear but I did know of what. At work I had to refill the stock of drinks, I carried many cases of beers until I started fainting. I went to sit outside under a radiating sun though the heat was not reaching me. It seemed like I was covered by an insulating silicon.

Around 30 minutes passed, shivering under the near afternoon sun, I felt as if something was ruptured inside me, with heavy blood droppings, I ran home to wear a pad, which got filled in less than an hour. I changed another and laid on the bed sleeping awhile, I was woken by the wet panty, which I soon changed and started to get worried ignorant of what was happening. My mind was turned to the fact that I was losing too much blood, drinking a lot of water avoiding dehydration, instead of asking what I was experiencing.

When Carine arrived, I told her my situation, she was worried but simply said that it might be spotting that I had better stay at home in bed to rest. I informed Vick immediately and he said he would keep checking on me.  I kept changing pads after every two hours, feeling weak and not willing to eat anything. That evening Vick called me and we talked for long, he asked if I needed to go to the hospital but I told him that I was okay; the pain was mild.

Eventually, I changed but I felt a frozen coldness inside that the whole night I did not sleep, just struggling between warming myself and changing pads, which seemed far impossible. Time stood still that I wondered if a new day would appear again. When Carine woke up to breast-feed Ivan, she found me awake and turning to find a more comfortable position to catch the scarce sleep.

She asked me about the situation, when I told her how heavy the flow was and that contractions were too much that I could not close my eyes. I was so cold that I was shivering even if I had covered myself in both my kitenge and towel before putting the normal blanket. She sighed and come near touching my forehead and adding her new pair of kitenge above my wrappers. She seemed worried but pretending to be calm, immediately she said that it was a miscarriage. I passed the remaining part of the night crying until the morning when Vick called me to know the situation.

He tried to calm me, assuring that we could go to the hospital in the afternoon. At hospital the consulting doctor injected me with a pain killer and proceeded with asking me the details of my situation. I explained the nature of my complaints in terms of pain, bleeding and coldness. I was given numerous cups of warm water by a generous nurse who was assigned to take me to the screening section. I sat waiting my bladder to be full, waiting my ultrasound in pain of the pressure of a filling bladder exerted on my wounded uterus.

Ultra-sound tests revealed that I had an ectopic pregnancy and that the option was to remove it since the heart of the baby was not beating. I was scared from how I heard how they used to aspirate, then, I cried unable to comfort myself. Lucky enough, they gave me just antibiotics and supplements as they realized that it was all on the way out. I remained home resting while waiting to recover soon. With Vick we quarreled when I got tired to explain how I lost my pregnancy, him saying that I had aborted with intent, since I was not happy to be pregnant.

Kelly, can you feel the pain I had? First, being pregnant before getting married was a shame, but I could comfort myself that I was neither the first nor the last to be pregnant out of marriage. Vick was happy about my pregnancy and the fact that I wanted to break my loneliness, I was encouraged to continue my pregnancy. I kept swearing that it was a miscarriage not an abortion but instead he started calling me a murderer, saying that  it was not a surprise for him as I inherited wickedness from my parents. What an accusation!

You cannot understand how offended I felt at the extent of wishing to die. I suddenly felt like the fire of all I used to feel for him was turned into ashes, ashes of remorse, ashes of shame and ashes of sorrow. I knew that I should not regret what once made me happy but it was too much dear. Vick started distancing himself and when I asked him what was disturbing him; he said that he wanted to have the baby. He said it was too good to be true.

But I thought of forgetting myself, forgive and go on especially that I felt a need to retain him, to affirm that the dark time will pass. I tried to make him believe me despite how I felt stony broken. I wanted him to understand me and allow us to continue but he was ice cold. I could not figure out my life without him after all good times we shared and the confidence he built in me.

 I calmed him telling him that the future reserved for us the best but he refused to believe me. He accused me to have aborted by intent as I showed sadness in my eyes when I realized that I was expecting. He had plenty of reasons to accuse me. He alluded to the fact on why my father had killed mum and spit it on my face.

Crying became my food or my new habit; I was vigorously shaken, and uprooted deep inside my being. I was not able to let Vick understand me or to calm him although my own pain of losing the fruit of my flesh was so unbearable. I wanted at least him and only him to understand me and allow me to forgive myself. My pain was sharp in my soul to have lost my own self but also the pain due to the rejection was more hurting. The distance between us became longer and longer.

I was immersed in the afflictions and the shame that he was no longer showing up and he even refused to pick my calls. My memory continuously betrayed me whenever I tried to put an end to my illusion of love; the moments at the lake or on the way holding each other’s hand… I learnt to keep distance and to smile if one asked me what happened in our relationship. I was struck and uneven that even at work I could forget accountings or misplace the money. I became more silent even when the bar was full of demanding customers or their laughter.

With time, I learnt to be lonely once again without his intermediary calls or small messages. My psychological life deteriorated fast as I continuously thought of my lost baby, wondering how I could handle life with Vick’s rejection or if he accepted me, how life would have looked. My sorrow grew out of my control that I could be seated alone and crying. To my amazement, my clients dealt with only waiters and I had to be behind the counter serving only those few who could sit on the counter; those that  came, drank silently or watched a match and left.

Diana could blend for me a strong drink or ask me to dance with her the song that I once enjoyed but still my heart refused to warm up. Carine tried all the best to comfort me that one never loses what you never had but I could not believe that I had lost both my baby and my love. My grievance was so intense that I thought I would never be happy any more time. Was I suffering from post-partum depression?

The love of Vick deeply grieved me and each day he seemed to want to listen to me anymore. I could imagine all the good time we had had, and I found that as mad dreams. Carine kept supporting me even when her own sorrow hurt, she could pray for me during the night begging God to have mercy on both us and to give as a clear way of going out of the mist.

After weeks, he asked me to meet him for he said he wanted to apologize. He had built and moved by several pieces of advice that he got from his companions. My heart was so bitter that I did not want to forgive him in spite his supplications to resume our love story. Despite how he begged me for us to get back on our away he did not apologize about the extreme position he took and bitter words he said about my lost pregnancy.

Letting him know that my pain had permanently changed me, emerged in my mind but as I try to tell him my pains, he silenced me and kept crying that I should understand him. It was my first time to see tears from a man, I could have believed him but my wounded heart did not allow me I was ready to give up on him and instead asked him no more emotional arguments.

I tried to escape his ridiculous tears and fake apologies by saying that it was okay we could resume slowly our relationship. Everyone was reserved and silent; we were no longer in that warming motion but we agreed to move on. Both of us believed in love, I supposed. I stopped expecting more from him rather started to be more reserved especially in terms of romances while for him he had no more gifts or outings.

Moved by the will to repair my heart and my mistakes, I decided to go to visit dad alone for the first time. I wanted to talk with him intimately. Upon my arrival, they called him and he came out. He looked like a silhouette that I was scared that his bones could get stuck in my flesh when he hugged me. I did not say a lot as he rather had plenty to let me know. He confessed that he did not like me as a daughter from the time he suspected that mum became pregnant and that he might not have been my father.

I had strength to listen as he looked like doing his last confessions.  He added that he knew the man I came with the previous time, as he knew his father and that he was the one he had been suspecting to be my real father. The progressive fights at home were because mum radically refused to accept that she might have been in love with another man who, may have engrossed her. Thus, since she was gone with the secrets, none really knew the reality and my father confessed not to have not accepted me all that time.

My father let his tears to roll on his face like a kid. Kelly try to imagine our father Rujukundi crying, I felt touched and softened to listen  to him as he told me what was the real reason, why he revolted and stopped taking care of the family. Which increased the tension between him and mum. The visit took longer than the time they normally allowed. Perhaps they realized that the old man was exhausted by his bitter life. He tried to let go everything from his chest. It was so hard to leave him with all the sad stories he had.

As I left, I rushed to get the bus to come back without thinking of the discoveries he made me reach until I sat in the bus. Looking at the green villages as the bus moved, and being dragged by the danger I was running into, I internally complained, cursing my existence. I had no idea if I should go on with the relationship with Vick while he might have been my blood brother. I leaned on the front seat as if sleeping and left myself to cry and cry my pain out uncertain of what I could do next.

I asked Vick to meet me for a very serious talk and he refused, maybe thinking I might complain of anything as his attention was becoming rarer. I kept waiting for the time we will be alone in calmness to let him know what I learnt from my father. Nevertheless, since I hardly believed so, I forced myself to keep silence until the time becomes opportune.

Meanwhile, from the prison, they called me to inform me that my father had passed on. The news struck me but I had no time to mourn. I knew that the burial would cost me an arm and a leg.  I went to discuss what it had to take for to foot his burial and funerals. As I was not able to take him home, I paid a small amount for a modest burial. Carine and Maria took their time to comfort me but my heart was seriously broken that I could not relax at all.

 A message to Vick about the bad news, took long to be replied until Carine called him as a matter of courtesy. Perhaps he had no time to read my messages. With Vick unable to digest my bad luck, he retreated stopping all communication and I decided to keep silence and keep the secrets, which could have redeemed or condemned both of us. I was unable to see behind that mist that I took a leave for three days. I stayed indoors crying and cursing my birth.

Chapter 8

Going on through the mist