Our housekeeper has had her baby and has called her Happiness Joy. I wish her all the same. (I do love the African names…I have met a Hope, a Pretty, a Grace, a Precious, a Happy, Jolly and an Innocent; the list goes on). Within a few weeks she will be back at work, baby on her back. African woman are a different and much stronger breed and thinking of the way we sit at home, have meals brought to us and gently rub cream on our sore breasts makes me smile. Not only will she be back to mopping floors within weeks of baby coming but she actually went into labour while walking to work.
At 8 am she was walking along Dead Dog Highway when all of a sudden she felt a twinge and by 9.20 am she was sitting up in hospital with a baby on her breast! Sadly in all the good news there was one small loss. At the moment that she went into labour she was carrying Handsome Husband’s favourite shoes that she had kindly taken to the cobbler. These shoes are now four years old and he refuses to part with them, always having the cobbler attend to their needs. Last night we received a text that said: “I was paining so much I lost your shoes. Please forgive me.”
Handsome Husband is not so filled with Happiness Joy right now. There are no shoe shops of any significance in Kampala and apparently blue and brown don’t match. (?) I am more than impressed that she recalled losing the shoes and that she is not just wrapped up in leaky breasts and new born tears.