LESSONS IN SHADOWS (GL)

"...and the nun says, "Do you have holy water or just the sinful kind-"

Cynthia stopped midway through the punchline, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth.

Angela blinked. "Why'd you stop?"

Jennifer, seated between them, looked up curiosity. "What is it?"

And then she felt it- that strange stillness in the air, the sudden hush of voices from nearby tables.

She turned.

Clara stood just a few steps behind her.

In full military uniform. Cap tucked under one arm. Shoulders straight, expression guarded. Behind her, at a side table near the wall, sat a tall, ribbon-wrapped box-a three layered cake, waiting quietly.

Jennifer stared, stunned for a heartbeat, then stood.

Her voice cracked. "Clara?"

Clara opened her arms without a word.

Jennifer didn't hesitate. She ran straight into them.

The sound of forks hitting plates and chairs scraping back filled the silence as the entire hall slowly realized what was happening.

And then the clapping began.

Soft at first-one girl, then another-until the whole dining hall broke into applause.

"Is that her sister?"

Look at that uniform!"

"She brought cake?!"

Clara pulled away with calm grace and brushed a small kiss against Jennifer's forehead. "Happy birthday, baby sister."

She turned back to the side table, unwrapped the cake, and sliced the top layer with practiced ease. Neatly piped across the icing were the words:

To My Baby Sister.

The room buzzed with awe as Clara handed Jennifer the first slice.

🎶"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Jennifer,

Happy birthday to you!🎶

The room was still buzzing. Clara sat beside Jennifer, surrounded by girls asking about her military training.

"Is it true you sleep with your boots on?"

"Did you do a push-up test?"

"Do they shave your head if you fail?"

Clara answered briefly, always composed- her face steady, her tone dry. Across the dining hall, Maria sat apart from the crowd, leaning on one arm, watching the table with quiet distance.

At the cake table, Angela and Cynthia were slicing and serving with dramatic flair.

Jennifer walked casually.

She picked up the knife, sliced a fresh piece, and placed it on a napkin. Angela looked over, holding her own plate.

"You getting seconds already?"

Jennifer smiled lightly, not answering. She folded the napkin over the cake as if it was nothing important-just cake. No one questioned her again. The wrapped piece slid easily into the hollow of her book, tucked away like it had always belonged there.

Clara stood again.

She walked to the table, took a clean plate, and sliced a piece of cake- precise, quiet, no need for show. Then she made her way to the far bench where Maria sat, detached from the noise.

No sarcasm. No attitude.

Clara stopped in front of her and held out the plate.

"If you don't mind," she said simply.

Maria glanced at her-cautious, unreadable for a heartbeat. Then she reached out.

"I don't," she replied, taking the plate.

Their fingers brushed. A stillness passed between them.

For a second, their eyes met-steady, unspoken.

Then Clara turned without another word back toward the crowd.

Maria stayed where she was.

She didn't eat the cake.

Not yet.

She just sat, holding it, watching Clara's back fade into the sea of uniforms.

"I need to sigh out," Clara said softly, adjusting her belt.

Jennifer nodded. "Okay. We'll talk later . On phone, yeah?"

Clara gave a shot nod, her voice lower now. "Also...try to talk to your class teacher. About things."

Jennifer said nothing, but she understood. It was a guardian's duty.

She watched Clara walk away-tall, clean lines, moving through the corridor with practiced ease.

Jennifer turned back.

...

She joined Angela and Cynthia as they left the dining hall, the air still thick with a smell of warm cabbage and faint vanilla.

The three of them walked in a loose line down the breezeway, passing quiet chatter, chairs being pushed back, footsteps scattering across the compound.

As they turned a corner, Jennifer slowed slightly-her eyes catching something ahead.

As they turned a corner, Jennifer slowed slightly-her eyes catching something ahead.

Miss Emily was standing under the shade of the veranda roof, speaking quietly with Clara. Not in the staffroom. Not in an office. Just standing.

Angela and Cynthia seems not to notice.

Jennifer blinked, then looked away.

Maybe it was something to do with her being Jennifer's guardian. Maybe teachers and guardians needed private discussions sometimes. About students. About things no one else should overhear.

She didn't say a word.

They kept walking.

"Eh," Cynthia said suddenly, nudging Jennifer's arm with a grin, " I didn't know you had such a cute sister. If she were a boy, I swear I'd be the one chasing her."

Angela laughed. "Lucky for you, she's not."

Jennifer just gave a small smile, her thoughts already slipping elsewhere. 

Then, she stopped.

Her locker stood partly open.

A long, velvet-wrapped gold box rested inside-elegant, smooth, with a dark ribbon tied perfectly across the top.

She reached for it slowly.

Al Ramadi-Dubai Selection. Dark chocolate.

Imported. Expensive.

Her favorite.

She once tried to find it in Nairobi-even walked through three supermarkets, then a boutique shop in Westlands.

The price tag had made her walk away.

And now it was here. Again.

Same brand as last year.

Same brand as the year before.

Same day.

No note, expect a small, white card.

"Just because you're unforgettable. Happy birthday again."

Jennifer stared at it for a long moment.

It had to be from Clara. She was the only one who ever remembered it wasn't butter cake Jennifer loved-it was dark chocolate.

Clara had gone off to military two years ago, but every year since, this same chocolate appeared. Still, Jennifer wondered why, if Clara came in person this time, she hadn't just handed it over like the cake. But she didn't mind. Maybe this was just Clara's quiet way of doing things.

Still, she didn't mind.

She slipped the box into her backpack, quietly. into her backpack.

A moment later, , Cynthia leaned over, eyes wide like a child spotting treasure.

"Ah ! As I'm made, chocolate again!" she grinned. "I've been waiting for this day!"

Angela laughed. "It's like clockwork . Every year."

Jennifer shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. It's from Clara. She always sends it."

Angela and Cynthia exchanged a knowing look.

"Of course," Angela said, "your sister's got timing like a watchtower."

Cynthia leaned closer to the bag, teasing.

"Still doesn't mean she wants to share it."

Angela gave a playful sigh. "Yeah . We all know. When it comes to Jennifer and chocolate-it's mission impossible."

Jennifer smirked but didn't answer. She had never shared those birthday chocolates. Not once.

Because when Clara was away-two years of silence wrapped in boots and orders-the chocolate always came.

It wasn't just a treat. It was a message.

A reminder that even from far away, someone still loved her like home.

...

Jennifer shifted again beneath her blanket, eyes open in the dark.

Angela was tangled in her sheets, muttering something about milk. Cynthia slept like a rock, one leg sticking out from under her blanket.

She stared at the ceiling, mind drifting.

She thought about the morning.

Physics class.

Miss Emily had walked in wearing a scarf.

It had been warm.

Jennifer had smiled without meaning to-because she remembered Maria asking, "Miss, are you not feeling well?"

That scarf.

Jennifer bit her lip, still smiling in the dark.

Then-ping

She reached for her phone.

One new email.

From: E.Wairimu

Subject: Happy birthday

Her chest tightened. She opened it slowly.

Hi Jennifer,

I heard today was your birthday.

I'm guessing the cake in the office was from you-if so, thank you.

It was... delicious.

Wishing you a quiet night, and a good year ahead.

-Miss Emily

Jennifer just stared at the screen for a long time.

She didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Just held the phone close like it might say something more.