Then I get into conversation with a pretty woman with two daughters who's also not long back from abroad and is living with her parents again after the collapse of her marriage. Her two girls get on well with Napirai so we too arrange to meet up one weekend. The Sunday simply flies by and we all head off again our own separate ways. One thing I've learned today is that I have the right to an income supplement from my employer for having a child, so I've decided to tell my boss about Napirai whenever I get a moment that seems suitable.
By the end of my second month on the road for work I'm struck by a brilliant idea. Turnover isn't growing very fast primarily because big companies seldom place a firm order straight away. But as it's been my experience that almost everyone I approach buys something for himself, I should offer our products directly to the staff of big companies like banks and insurance firms. My boss says I might as well give it a go and he'll certainly support the idea if I get some sales.
It turns out to be a success. Now I'm making appointments for a preliminary showing to arrange a day when I can come and sell openly. Before long I'm doing my first sales day in a bank and it works a treat. The male employees immediately buy several designer ties and usually also scarves or shawls for their wives. However, these sales appointments are nearly always after work which means I have to work later. On the other hand those who turn up are always in a better mood because it's the end of their working day. The result is that by the end of the month turnover has risen substantially and so has my income.
By now, however, we're into the height of summer and I want to get home as early as possible to be able to take my daughter to play outside. We've settled in to our new flat really well. The neighbour's children have really taken to Napirai and the children are forever charging backwards and forwards between the two flats. Sometimes I've got all the children, then Napirai will disappear into their flat for hours on end. Things are almost as hectic as they were among the children back in Kenya and both of us really enjoy it. On fine evenings Madeleine conies over and we natter to one another late into the night. Napirai in any case sleeps better when she can hear the sound of human voices. She can drop off to sleep no matter how noisy it is but finds it difficult when things are totally silent. I use the extra money I've earned to buy a barbecue and a paddling pool for Napirai, and now half the children in the whole area seem to come round to see us, which makes for great fun.
When it rains we pull on our Wellington boots and go off into the nearby forest. I adore inhaling the smell of the damp earth and seeing the greenery of the meadows and trees. When the weather is fine we build a camp fire in the forest and grill sausages. All the children love that. I love the smell of the smoke too as it reminds me of my life back in the manyattas in Kenya. Every time it takes me back to all those experiences around the family hearth.
Sometimes I grill food at home too on the new barbecue. There's always something going on at the weekends. Either we go swimming in a lake with Madeleine or some of the other mothers from the group and take a picnic or we head up into the mountains for a little bit of a hike. It's always fun for everyone because there are nearly always several mothers together and it's a distraction from their day-to-day problems. I haven't enjoyed a summer so much in years. Things have all worked out for the best so quickly. The only bitter taste in my mouth is that I don't know how Lketinga is getting on as James has heard no more from him since he gave up the shop.
The Bureaucratic Hurdles
At the beginning of September my summer euphoria evaporates in a flash. I had completely forgotten my application for family social security registration. Reading the relevant regulations now is like having the rug pulled from beneath my feet. According to German law I'm still married which means Napirai has to take her father's surname unless we've decided otherwise together. But the name will not be legally recognized unless we can present a valid identity card or social security documents. Apart from anything else they require my husband's birth certificate. And how, in the name of God, am I supposed to conjure up a birth certificate when he's never even had one. I'm given a form on which I'm supposed to answer a thousand and one questions about Lketinga's parents. How on earth am I supposed to gather all this information about a husband whose whereabouts I don't even know?
My head's spinning so much with all this I start to feel unwell. There is not the slightest possibility that Lketinga would ever consent to Napirai changing her surname to mine. And I've only got my residence permit for Switzerland on the basis of us both having the same nationality and surname. I start to panic that somebody might try to take Napirai away from me. Is our whole wonderful new world about to fall apart just because of a couple of stupid paragraphs in some bureaucratic paperwork? Or is Lketinga, of no fixed abode and at least ten thousand kilometers away, to become Napirai's legal guardian?
I keep going through all the questions over and over again but I've still got no idea how I'm ever going to answer them. What I'd like to do is throw them all in the bin. But sooner or later Napirai is going to need an identity card and for that she's going to need a legally recognized birth certificate.
That means getting written confirmation from Kenya, and how on earth am I going to do that? Gradually I start despairing over it all and without the slightest clue what I'm supposed to do I call my mother. She does her best to reassure me but actually hasn't any more of a clue than I have.
None of my new friends and acquaintances can help either so I call the German consulate in Zurich to make an appointment to go and talk it over. The gentleman there is very courteous and helpful but doesn't know what he can do for me. Laws are laws. I should try to find out more about Lketinga's family from his brother and then he'll see what he can do with the information I've provided and what else I might need.
I leave the consulate exhausted and dripping sweat, aware only that it's all going to be very difficult. I think of my much-loved Kenyan relatives and their simple primitive lifestyle. How can I possibly explain to people like them that in our ‘civilized’ world we need all this? These are people who have no idea of their own birthdays, much less of why anyone would celebrate such a thing, and I'm supposed to find out details of the dead. It all strikes me as absurd.
But I can't see any other solution so I write James a long letter, asking him to answer as many of the questions as he can and if possible to reply using a typewriter and get the mission to authenticate his letter. I tell him how sorry I am to cause so much fuss but that it's very important for Napirai and me. I send off the letter with not much hope, knowing that it's bound to be at least two or three months before I even get an answer because James is off at school now and won't be back home until Christmas. The consulate here is going to send Napirai's birth certificate and our wedding certificate back to Kenya to have them authenticated, and that's going to take forever too.
Despite all this chaos, we gradually get back to our daily routine and I try not to think about what could happen. I have to believe this problem too will somehow get resolved.
In the weeks before Christmas my sales to big company staff members really take off as the products make such good presents. My boss is very happy with me and leases me a nice new car, as my old Ford keeps breaking down in town and I've been late for meetings as a result. Every time I have a breakdown, however, I'm amazed how quick and easy it is to get going again. Either another motorist stops to help or you call a rescue service which is there within minutes. It was rather different in Kenya! We used to stand out there in the bush for hours, if not days, waiting in vain for someone who could help to come along. Eventually I had to learn how to do a few basic repairs myself and change the tyres which were forever getting punctures. The only time the natives were able to help was when the Land Rover got stuck in mud or sand and they could fetch wood to place underneath it to give the tyres something to grip on to.