Chapter 23

Hupenyu Hwakanaka—The Good Life

The business climate continued to change in Zimbabwe in a way that pleased Chamu. There were many opportunities for enterprising black men and women. For many years after Zimbabwe won its independence from the British, the white minority still owned the land. It staggered Chamu that only five percent of the country owned ninety-five percent of all the land. The whites owned all the farms, tourism, businesses, and real estate. Where he lived, he was one of the few black people, just like his daughter’s school had a handful of black children. However, things were changing. Indigenous black people could now own land by buying it, not stealing it as the British had done.

Chamu was just the man to take advantage of situations and prosper beyond many other people’s imaginations. He was always ahead of the curve when it came to business opportunities, just as his father had been. Jonathan Tengani had been one of the first people to open a grocery store in the city. Most blacks tended to have businesses where they lived, but Jonathan had broken from the mold when he opened a grocery store in town in the area that had mostly Indian establishments. If they could do it, so could he.

“Chamu, don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t change your circumstances. If you think it, then go for it. I did it, and so can you.”

Chamu remembered his father’s words as he began to dream about opening a bank. He wished he could talk to his father about his desires, but he knew that his father was smiling down at him and encouraging him to follow his dreams.

Chamu saw how incredibly all his plans fell into place. Three years before he had told Priscilla to give up her job and promised her a position in his bank once it was established. For the past three years, she had been waiting for that moment to use her programming skills, and it seemed the time had finally come. She had spent the three years focusing her time on Rudo and helping and volunteering in her pre-school and attending long distance classes. He knew that he didn’t want her to work, but he could tell that she was restless. At the bank he could monitor what she did and who she spent time with. Yes, having her help at the bank was the best plan.

Chamu was about to take his corporation to the next level, and he wanted to see his businesses grow to be respected all over Africa and make his way into Europe and America. The world was his to take. He talked to Priscilla about it at great length.

“I know it’s going to work. I may not have a banking background, but I have the drive and ambition to make it work, especially with you by my side.”

Priscilla smiled at Chamu’s enthusiasm. When he first brought up his desire to start a bank they’d been in Cape Town on holiday. Every year they travelled to different countries for shopping and relaxation. Often after a trip, Chamu would come up with a brilliant idea to grow his existing businesses or start new ones.

“A bank. I never knew it was that easy to open a bank,” she said.

“It’s not easy as such. Everything is hard work.”

“I know, but you make it sound so easy. You are doing so well, while many others are leaving the country.”

“I don’t understand people who leave Zimbabwe. Right now there are so many opportunities to make money, but I think those who leave the country don’t have the vision to start something. They just want to go to England and work in homes, looking after sick people.”

Priscilla would have argued that some people who went to England were able to buy homes and help struggling families, but she kept quiet.

“All you need is to get people with the knowledge, someone who knows more than me, and then in a few years we will have our bank,” Chamu said.

* * *

Now, three years later, Chamu remembered the conversation they had had. Chamu had identified a struggling bank that would do well with the capital he would bring. After months of negotiations the final plan had been drafted by the country’s top lawyers, and Chamu now owned the bank. He could find ways to make Priscilla happy according to his plans.

He would never want to lose Priscilla. He would rather lose all his fortune first.

* * *

“How is my little angel?” Mukai took Rudo by the hand and led her into her living room.

“I’m fine and how are you?” Priscilla watched her aunt’s eyes widen.

“I’m fine,” Mukai answered, and then looked at Priscilla. “You’ve raised her well. She’s well spoken.” Priscilla nodded, but sighed when she heard what Mukai had to say next. “So you two have finally decided to visit me?”

“Has it been that long?” Priscilla asked. Rudo settled down on the chair and took out a book from her bag. Mukai watched, impressed.

“I haven’t seen you since your surprise house party,” Mukai said.

“Oh.”

“You know that’s true, Pri. I was beginning to feel rejected. I was afraid you would change, become too good for the rest of us.”

“How can you say that?”

“It’s true. Your mother says you never go to visit her that much,” Mukai continued. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen people be changed by money.”

Priscilla felt tears fill her eyes. “I want to visit. I just don’t feel like dealing with Baba.”

“I know, but she’s your mother. You should still go there sometimes.”

Priscilla put her head down. She felt like a little child. She looked at Rudo reading her book, not even paying attention to them.

“I want to visit all of you more.”

“All I can say is, what gives away is the hand. The mouth does not give away. I go by your actions, not what you say.”

Priscilla was speechless. So according to Mukai nothing she could say could change the reality of her actions.

“Shall we have some juice?” Priscilla asked instead, getting ready to get up.

“You remember where the fridge is?”

Priscilla got up, looking around the living room, fighting the pain in her heart. Pictures of Unashe gleamed from every corner from the time he was a baby to manhood. He was Mukai’s dearly loved son; if pictures around the room meant how much she loved him, then Unashe was truly precious. Oh, goodness, he looked just like Rudo did when she was a baby. Rudo had Unashe’s eyes.

Priscilla almost ran to the kitchen, breathing hard after glancing back and seeing Mukai start to read Rudo’s book to her. There was a good reason not to visit Mukai.

Being with Mukai was too dangerous. She always feared that Mukai would see something in Rudo, like the way her right cheek dimpled just like Unashe’s, or how her eyes could melt even the coldest day. Maybe she was too paranoid. Still, being in Mukai’s house had a way of taking away from her marriage. It always brought back memories that she preferred locked away forever. When she opened the refrigerator, she was plunged back to the times she spent in this kitchen, joking around with Unashe. At that moment, the memories were so powerful she could almost feel his presence, see his smiling face behind the kitchen counter while they talked for hours.

Priscilla poured the orange juice, added ice and water and slowly stirred. Was her memory of her love for Unashe greater than it really had been?

Maybe time has made me blow things out of proportion. Maybe he didn’t make me laugh that hard or make my heart go that fast.

Priscilla shook her head and went to the lounge. Rudo had disappeared.

“Where did she go?” Priscilla asked. Mukai seemed to watch her carefully. Priscilla felt guilty, wondering if her thoughts of Unashe were all over her face.

“I told her to go play with Unashe’s old toys. I have kept some of his things for his children,” Mukai said. Priscilla almost spilt the drink.

“Are you all right?” Mukai asked.

“Fine.” Priscilla’s voice croaked. She could see that Mukai wasn’t convinced, but made the decision not to pursue it any further.

“I kept all his favorite books. Of course some of them were torn. Can you believe his fire truck is still there on the shelf?”

“You keep that room very intact,” Priscilla said.

“He’s my only child. I’m waiting for the time he gets married and gives me grandchildren. He’s almost twenty-eight now. Don’t you think it’s time he finds a nice girl and settles down?”

“I don’t know. I think he wants to get some things in order first, like his career, before getting married.”

“I wouldn’t mind Chantel as a daughter-in-law. They have been together since he was in high school.”

“Really,” Priscilla said, feeling her heart beat faster.

“Oh yes. I always thought she loved him more than he loved her, but now it seems like things may be getting serious,” Mukai said. “So how are you and Chamu doing?”

Priscilla took a sip of her drink. “We are fine. He’s a wonderful father and husband.”

“He is. I sometimes think he would do anything for you,” Mukai said.

“Meaning?”

“I think he’s different from most men I know. He knows how to treat a woman. Buying that house, taking you on holidays overseas. You have been all over the world.”

“I really can’t complain.”

Rudo walked back into the living room with a fire truck in her hand. Mukai laughed, but Priscilla had a sense of foreboding.

“You are just like Unashe, aren’t you? He loved that truck when he was your age, too,” Mukai said.

Priscilla felt heat invade her body. “I think all children love fire trucks.”

“There’s something about Rudo that reminds me of Unashe,” Mukai said, watching her drive the wretched thing on the carpet. Priscilla jumped up nervously.

Don’t say that! Don’t look too closely.

“Let’s go, Rudo. Please put the truck back where you got it.”

“No. Let her keep it. She can have it,” Mukai said.

Priscilla stared at Mukai, wondering how she could refuse.

As she drove away, Priscilla turned to look in the back seat as her daughter somehow bonded with her real father through that fire truck.