Baking Cakes in Kigali Read Free

in Rwanda?”
    “Well, yes …”
    “Then, Mrs Ambassador, if you know that the virus is in every country that is our neighbour, then there are others who already know that too; it cannot be a secret. And if people know that all of Tanzania’s neighbours have it, why will they think that Tanzania
doesn’t
have it? Will they think that there’s something special about our borders, that our borders don’t let it in?” Angel stopped, anxious that she had gone too far and that she might have offended her important guest. She put her glasses back on and looked at her. To her relief, Mrs Wanyika appeared more contrite than angry.
    “No, you’re right, Angel. It’s only that Amos is always very careful not to admit that we have the problem of that disease in Tanzania. It’s his job.”
    “That’s easy to understand,” assured Angel, “and, of course, as the Ambassador’s wife you must do the same, especially when you’re talking to people from outside our country. But we’re both from there, and we both know that it can come to any family there and take away somebody close.”
    “Yes, of course. Although … not
every
family,” Mrs Wanyika countered. “Not ours. And not yours, Angel, I’m sure.”
    But the Ambassador’s wife was wrong. Had the robber’s bullet not found Joseph’s head when he returned home that night from visiting his wife as she lay dying in Bugando Hospital, Angel would be telling a very different story about his death. Though perhaps not yet: he had been keeping himself fit and healthy, continuing to jog every evening and to play soccer every weekend; he could still—possibly—have been alive today. But Angel recognised that it was best not to say any of this to her guest, who would not be comfortable with the idea and might even feel moved to tear up her Cake Order Form. She decided to move away from the subject.
    “You know, Pius and I were careful to have just two childrenso that we could afford to educate them well. Back in those days, family planning was still very modern. We were pioneers. Our lives should be growing more peaceful now. Pius should be relaxing more as he works the last few years to his retirement, but instead he has to work even harder. Our children should be preparing themselves to take care of us now, but instead we find ourselves taking care of their five children.
Five!
Grace and Faith are good girls, they’re serious. But the boys? Uh-uh.” Angel shook her head.
    “Ooh! Boys? Uh-uh,” agreed Mrs Wanyika, who—Angel knew—had herself raised three sons, and she also shook her head.
    “Uh-uh,” said Angel again.
    “Ooh, uh-uh-uh. Boys?” Mrs Wanyika concurred.
    Both women were silent for a while as they contemplated the problems of boys.
    Then Mrs Wanyika said, “God has indeed given you a cross to bear, Angel. But has He not also given you a blessing? Is a child’s laughter not the roof of a house?”
    “Oh, yes!” Angel agreed quickly. “It’s only that we won’t be able to provide for these children as well as we did for our first children. But we must try by all means to give them a good life. That’s why we decided to leave Tanzania and come here to Rwanda. There’s aid money for the university and they’re paying Pius so much more as a Special Consultant than he was getting at the university in Dar. Okay, Rwanda has suffered a terrible thing. Terrible, Mrs Ambassador; bad, bad, bad. Many of the hearts here are filled with pain. Many of the eyes here have seen terrible things. Terrible! But many of those same hearts are now brave enough to hope, and many of those same eyes have begun to look towards the future instead of the past. Life is going on, every day. And for us the pluses of coming here are many more than the minuses. Andmy cake business is doing well because there are almost no shops here that sell cakes. A cake business doesn’t do well in a place where people have nothing to celebrate.”
    “Oh, everybody talks about your