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A lot of sad and often very moving stories come out. Some of the women come across as very self-confident while others are very shy and quiet. A few of them have been on their own for years while others, myself included, have only been on their own for a few months. As I start telling my story most of them want to keep on hearing more and more. A lot of them find my life really crazy, unusual and difficult, although it seems to me some of them have had much bigger problems. Some of them are struggling to make ends meet or to get custody of their children. Others are still struggling to come to term with their separation, particularly those whose husbands left them. My situation seems much easier than theirs. I'm still living on the bit of cash I have left and am just waiting for a work permit to get a new job. I certainly don't have the problem of trying to get maintenance money from my husband.

I can't help comparing the situation I'm in now with the way things sometimes were when I was living in Africa, occasionally at death's door and struggling just to stay alive. Back there I had pretty much to rely on myself most of the time, with no connection to the civilized outside world and almost none of the local Maa language. Days went by when I wouldn't exchange a word with anyone. Running away from our village into the Kenyan highlands was unthinkable because none of the women would have helped me, even by coming along to hold little Napirai as I drove along the treacherous jungle roads. They wouldn't even have done it for any amount of money I could have given them because if they had, they'd never have been allowed back to their tribes. Masai men have no sympathy whatsoever for a woman who wants to run away from her husband.

Here, on the other hand, there are people to talk to who understand and want to help. All you have to do is go and find them. No, as far as I'm concerned it's been a lot easier to be a lone mother in Switzerland and it'll be a lot easier still once I get a job, I'm certain of that. Some of the women warn me not to be quite so euphoric in my attitude as I might find there aren't that many jobs for women in our situation. I'm going to have to find someone to look after Napirai. A lot of the mothers find it a bit weird that I'm still breastfeeding Napirai at age two. But I don't let them worry me. I'll cross those bridges when I come to them.

One of the women, called Madeleine, comes up and sits down next to me and tells me she's off to Kenya at the end of April for a holiday, at last, to get over her divorce. When she tells me she's planning to go down to the south coast we agree that I should come round to her house some time so I can give her more information about Kenya and show her where our shop is. That way she can go past and take a look and maybe even talk to Lketinga.

I'm rather taken with her, and also with two or three of the other women, in particular one of the organizers who just oozes energy. We end up choosing her as our chairwoman. There are some, however, that I don't even get the chance to speak to. The time just flies by and before long we're all clearing away the plates and doing the washing-up. The chalet has to be cleaned and then we say our goodbyes, arranging to meet again in four weeks time.

On the way home I keep thinking about all the different life stories I've just heard. One way or another, the meeting has been good for me. For one thing I'm really keen on seeing more of some of these women outside the group. For another I've realised that I shouldn't just let things trundle along until I've got no money left. For the first time I've been made to confront the problems that lone mothers face. Before I went to Africa I was a successful businesswoman with no interest in having children, and in Africa it's common for many women to have to cope with lots of children on their own. As a result I'd never really thought about it. But after today I realise that there are lots of women who just surrender to their fate as if they've been crippled. There's no way I'm going to let that happen to me!

Back home I tell my mother my impressions and also that I'm keen to join the group, not least because Napirai enjoyed running around with the other children. Tomorrow I'm going to get on to the immigration people to see what's going on; after all, we've been here five months now.

When I lift the phone to call them the next morning, I realise with every fiber of my being that this is a hugely important moment. My mother is sitting there on the sofa with Napirai, watching me and almost certain praying.

When I finally get through to the right department I explain my situation to the woman on the other end. In a friendly voice she tells me to hang on and she'll go and see what's happening. I'll never forget those minutes hanging on the end of the phone. My heart was pounding and I could feel a terrible tightness gripping my chest harder and harder.

The minutes and seconds seem to last an eternity. ‘Dear God, please help us one more time,’ I pray, silently crossing my fingers at the same time. At long last I hear the woman's voice back on the other end of the line. ‘Your name is Corinne Hofmann and you're currently residing at Wetzikon with your daughter Napirai, born 1 July 1989, is that right?’ ‘Yes,’ I manage to croak. ‘Your application has been passed. You'll get it all in writing in the next few days.’ I've been holding my breath and suddenly it all comes pouring out: ‘Thank you, thank you very much, you've just made me the happiest woman on earth. Goodbye.’ I turn round and cry out ecstatically, ‘Thank God! We can stay!’

I feel as if I've been given a new lease of life and dance around the flat with Napirai in my arms. She's laughing and giggling even though she clearly hasn't the faintest idea why her mother's gone so daft. My mother is in tears of relief and I'm so happy I can't even think straight. Everything's going to be fine now. I'm going to do everything I can to get a job and a flat of our own. I ring up my brothers and sister to tell them the good news, and also sit down and write a letter to James to tell him too. I'm so excited I can hardly control myself. Not since my daughter was born have I been so over the moon because of a single sentence spoken by a woman I don't know. It really is the start of a new life. I wonder if she knows the effect those words of hers can have. But then I dismiss all other thoughts from my head: the main thing is I've got what I wanted. As soon as I've got the written confirmation, I shall put an ad seeking a job in the local paper.

That evening Hanspeter is equally delighted by my good news. Over dinner we discuss what job I could do. I suggest I might start in a newspaper kiosk. If I got an early shift I could be home by lunch to look after Napirai. My mother offers to look after Napirai two to three days a week as she's got used to having her grand-daughter around and they get on well together.

Hanspeter and I sit down and work out a budget for how much I'll need if I'm to have a flat of my own. Doing that soon makes me realise that if we're not to be on the brink of starvation I'll need to find a full-time job. I'm going to have to furnish the flat from scratch. Not to mention finding crockery, cutlery, towels as well as furniture. That means that basically a job as a sales representative is going to suit me best as it means I can ration my own time and if I'm on commission there's the chance of making more money faster.

My mother reminds me of my old boss at the insurance company, but although I was really pleased to get the job, I don't go for the idea of selling insurance door-to-door because it would mean primarily working evenings. I'd rather find something interesting to do during the day, so I decide to go ahead and put an ad in the paper.