The weeks following Mr. Sikalima's departure passed quickly, each day bringing new responsibilities for everyone on the farm.
Before dawn each morning, Mubita was already awake. By the time the first rays of sunlight appeared over the eastern hills, he had counted the cattle, checked the kraal gates, and led the herd toward the grazing fields. His confidence had grown remarkably since his arrival. The animals had become familiar with his whistle and his calm voice, following him without resistance.
Old Hamusonde often watched him from a distance.
One morning, as Mubita led the cattle across a shallow stream, the old man smiled and shook his head.
"The young man learns quickly," he murmured.
Mrs. Bwalya, who had come to inspect the vegetable gardens, overheard him.
"He reminds me of my husband when he was younger."
Hamusonde chuckled.
"Except your husband complained much more."
Mrs. Bwalya laughed.
"He still does."
Both of them burst into laughter.
---
Despite the peaceful atmosphere, the workload had increased considerably.
With Mr. Sikalima away, Mrs. Bwalya now supervised nearly every aspect of the farm.
She managed the veterinary medicine shop.
She handled payments to suppliers.
She monitored the maize fields.
She prepared reports for her husband over the phone every evening.
Although she remained cheerful, Mubita noticed the tiredness in her face.
One afternoon, after returning with the cattle, he approached her.
"Mama Bwalya."
She looked up from a stack of invoices.
"Yes, Mubita?"
"I've noticed you've been doing too much."
She smiled.
"Farming never waits for anyone."
"I know."
"If you'd allow me, I could help after bringing back the herd."
Mrs. Bwalya looked at him thoughtfully.
"You already work from sunrise until evening."
"I don't mind."
She smiled warmly.
"Thank you."
"Tomorrow, perhaps you can help unload some animal feed."
"I'll be happy to."
From inside the kitchen, Chipo watched the conversation through the window.
She admired her husband's willingness to help.
But at the same time, a quiet feeling settled inside her.
He seemed to have endless energy for everyone else.
By the time he returned home each evening, he was often too exhausted to speak.
---
That evening, Chipo prepared nshima with fresh okra and dried fish.
When Mubita finally entered the house, his clothes were dusty and his boots were covered in mud.
"You look tired," she said gently.
"I am."
He washed his hands before sitting down.
"The northern fence needed repairs."
"What happened?"
"A tree branch fell during last night's wind."
"Was any cattle lost?"
"No."
She smiled with relief.
"That's good."
As they ate, little Luyando happily described his day.
"Grandpa Hamusonde showed me how to plant pumpkin seeds!"
"Really?" Mubita smiled.
"Yes!"
"And he says when they grow, I can have the biggest pumpkin."
Everyone laughed.
Luyando continued talking excitedly while his parents listened.
After supper, however, silence filled the small house.
Mubita leaned back in his chair.
"I think I'll sleep early."
Chipo nodded quietly.
"You've been sleeping early every night."
He looked at her.
"The work is demanding."
"I know."
She forced a smile.
"I understand."
He didn't notice the sadness behind her eyes.
---
Several days later, Mrs. Bwalya announced some news during breakfast.
"I'll need to travel to Choma tomorrow."
Everyone looked up.
"The veterinary supplier has new stock arriving."
"I'll only be gone for the day."
She turned toward Chipo.
"Would you mind helping at the medicine shop?"
Chipo looked surprised.
"Me?"
"Yes."
"You've watched me serve customers for weeks."
"I think you're ready."
Chipo hesitated.
"I've never worked in a shop before."
Mrs. Bwalya smiled reassuringly.
"You won't be alone."
"I'll show you everything today."
"Thank you."
"I trust you."
Those words made Chipo smile.
For the first time since arriving at the farm, she felt truly useful.
---
The rest of the day was spent learning.
Mrs. Bwalya explained each shelf carefully.
"These medicines are for tick control."
"These are antibiotics."
"This section is for deworming."
She showed Chipo how to record every sale neatly in a large ledger.
"Never rely on memory."
"Always write everything down."
"Even if someone buys only one bottle?"
"Especially then."
She smiled.
"A forgotten coin today becomes a missing kwacha tomorrow."
Chipo laughed.
"I'll remember."
---
That evening, Mubita returned home later than usual.
He had stayed behind to repair another broken section of fencing.
When he entered the house, he found Chipo reading through the shop records by lantern light.
"What are you doing?"
"Mama Bwalya is teaching me the business."
He smiled proudly.
"That's wonderful."
"I'll be running the shop tomorrow."
"You're going to do well."
She looked up hopefully.
"Do you really think so?"
"I do."
He kissed her forehead before beginning his supper.
For a brief moment, Chipo felt the warmth she had been missing.
But it disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
Within minutes, Mubita's eyelids became heavy.
"I'm sorry," he yawned.
"I can barely keep my eyes open."
"I know."
He went to bed.
Chipo remained at the table, staring at the account book without really seeing the numbers.
She understood why he was tired.
She admired his dedication.
Yet she couldn't ignore the loneliness slowly growing inside her.
Outside, the moon shone brightly over the quiet farm.
The cattle rested peacefully.
The mango trees swayed gently in the cool night breeze.
Everything appeared calm.
But beneath that peaceful surface, unnoticed emotions were beginning to gather like distant storm clouds—still far away, but slowly moving toward the farm.