As a young girl she was excited, she had dreams and she loved him so much. One day she finds out she was pregnant and because where shebcame from conceiving while you were still staying at your father’s house was an abomination, they decided to get married before it was visible. He came from a good back ground and loved her. He observed the norms and visited her parents. It was a celebration. It was a colourful day and while she was still pregnant, the parents agreed that she will move in with him as his wife. She was excited but they both wanted more being Christian. A white wedding and a traditional wedding but first, the baby had to be born.
He pampered her, loved the life out of her. They were very beautiful together, the kind of couple you look at and immediately die of Envy. They were young and so in love. They played and prayed together.
Baby came hardly two months later, he was no more. Her heart sunk, he dreams were no more but mostly, she was empty like her life was over. Hardly a year since they moved in together. He didn’t even get to play with the child he was so in love with. He was gone. She broke. A part of her that no one could fix was broken. She talked about her best friend at his wake like he was still living. She tried to be strong but that was only an attempt.
Something that kept her busy. But he looked so much like him. Each time she sat home at 6pm she cried. She hoped maybe he would return home like he used to after work and bathe their son and eat food made by her. But that was only hope. She cried, into the dough as she baked, she cried herself to sleep. She was depressed, she didn’t know how to start. She wasn’t sure of the market for the cakes but she baked. Her back still tied up as tradition demanded. Humming hymns to herself. Sometimes the cakes were salty from the tears, other days they tasted love because she played back all the lovely moments. Soon she knew she needed to stop crying and bake with love for her son needed a strong mother and a future and milk. But she never stopped talking about him. She is my broken Baker.