Picking up the pieces

Continued from here:


My head still spinning the first thing I did was to make Norma a noggin of whiskey mixed with hot water to calm her nerves. She took this in my office while I authorized a week’s emergency leave for her and made some phone calls. I had decided that it wasn’t fair she should be at work with all the turmoil and distress she was going through. She thanked me, hugging me awkwardly and I felt tears well up when she said, ‘Asante sana Tamaku, barikiwa’. Be blessed Tamaku. So extravagant of her. A lawyer friend of best buddy Mike said she would look into various legal aspects. Sheila (bless her) has agreed to negotiate with the cooperative's officials not to levy any interest on the loan until we can sort something out. I think it’ll have to be an office fundraiser for the rest of the money. Read on, I’m not about to tap you for a loan dear reader. Norma is a proud woman too, it’ll be a task to get her to agree to even take our money.

Later I met my mum for lunch at Epic restaurant, Tribe Hotel, because I just needed to see her. I told her everything I’ve told you and she was equally horrified and said she’ll send Rasta her fixer round to Norma’s to move her away from where she’s staying. Mum said to me that the money part is nothing, the shame and betrayal from her own daughter will be killing Norma, so it’ll help if she makes a clean break. And I said thanks so much mummy and of course I agreed because I know mum is always right.

When I got home I was so tired and emotionally drained. I spoke to Norma on the phone who agreed to move with her youngest child to a small flat that Rasta showed her in Umoja. She said she couldn’t bear to see the neighbours’ faces huddled in lowered tones when she went past. And the good news is it’s only costing a little more than what she’s been paying. Must remember to send Rasta the customary brown envelope with ‘something small’. And Norma says she wants to come back to the office on Monday because she’s worried who’s making our teas and coffees. I said firmly no, just spend time with your daughter, you need to.

I still feel sad thinking about it, why dear God, why? She loved these two people like life itself, why do you allow her to suffer like this?