“The cost of trouble?” Mariam repeated.
Mama Pendo did not retreat. She stood in front of the stall with the rent book pressed to her chest. “I own this property. If people start leaving, who pays?”
“Who has left?”
“I didn't say they have. They're complaining.”
“Why twenty thousand?”
“Because I don't want trouble.”
Tunu stood a few steps behind Mariam. Every sentence named her without saying her name.
Mariam removed her apron. “Name one thing that has happened here.”
Mama Pendo glanced at Tunu. “That young man from the stage was seen nearby.”
“What did he do?”
“Do we wait until he does something?”
Mariam stopped Tunu from answering. “My house pays the same rent as everyone else. You cannot charge me because people enjoy discussing a child's life.”
Mama Pendo said they would talk tomorrow and walked away.
That evening Mariam counted the stall money three times. Coins struck the table one after another. Tunu knew the total could not cover the new rent, food, and everything else without something being delayed.
“I'll sell more tea in the morning,” Mariam murmured. “Maybe no eggs for two weeks.”
“I can work Saturdays,” Tunu said.
“What work?”
“Repairing earphones. Radios. Small things.”
“School first.”
“I didn't say I'd leave school.”
“We are not making decisions out of fear tonight.”
The sentence sounded strong, but Tunu saw Mariam put three coins into the emergency tin instead of the usual five.
The next day at school, Rehema found Tunu staring at a notebook without writing.
“Something wrong?”
“No.”
Rehema did not push. “All right. If that changes, my door is open.”
During break Asha bought two mandazi and handed her one without asking questions. Tunu accepted it.
After school, Tunu passed the bus stage. Two young men were loading soda crates onto a pickup. One received cash and split it with the other. Twenty minutes of work. Real money.
Tunu stood watching longer than she intended.
She remembered Nuru's words: before leaving, know what you are running from and what you are moving toward. But this was not leaving, she told herself. It was thinking.
At home, Mama Pendo returned with a folded notice.
“This is the new amount.”
“The month isn't even over,” Mariam said.
“I've given you time.”
“What does our agreement say about increases?”
“What agreement? You've lived here six years without all that paperwork.”
“So paperwork matters today because Tunu came back?”
Mama Pendo lowered her voice. “People call me. They say other girls will start bringing outsiders. They say things will disappear.”
“What has disappeared?”
“Nothing yet.”
“So you are charging for something that has not happened.”
That night Tunu could not study. Science words passed through her mind without staying. Mariam and Kassim discussed asking for more time to pay.
“Maybe my boss can advance my salary,” Kassim said.
“Don't bring your wages into this.”
“It's my home too.”
Tunu closed the book.
She turned on the old phone Kassim had repaired. She opened Jabi's messages. There was nothing new.
She typed: *You said there are sometimes jobs at the market?*
She stared at the sentence and deleted it.
Then she typed: *Do they still need people to count crates and help with loading?*
Her finger hovered over send.
The safety plan said she should tell Mariam before meeting Jabi. It said nothing about asking about work.
From the kitchen she heard Mariam say, “If this rent stays, I don't know what we'll do.”
Tunu pressed send.
Jabi replied: *Sometimes. Why?*
*Just asking.*
*You're in school now.*
Tunu felt irrationally angry. *I didn't ask about school.*
Mariam entered and found her with the phone.
“Studying?”
“Yes.”
Another small lie.
Mariam sat beside her. “The rent is not your responsibility.”
“I heard you.”
“We'll solve it.”
“How?”
Mariam had no quick answer. “The adult way.”
After she left, the phone vibrated again.
Jabi had written that there might be overnight work counting crates, but he did not know whether it was reliable and did not want Tunu choosing it simply because home had become expensive.
Tunu read the message three times.
The person everyone treated as a danger was the one telling her not to rush toward the job.
She set the phone down.
Five minutes later she picked it up again.
*How much do they pay?* she wrote.
---