The village library held schoolbooks, old newspapers, and a small records room at the back. Amina went there with Musa in the afternoon. The records elder, Bwana Kileo, opened the door with a key that had two teeth.
"I cannot release a company book without knowing who requests it," he said.
Amina showed him the lease and audit notice. "I want to verify whether the meeting mentioned in the minutes was properly notified. I will not take the book. I want a statement of what we see."
Musa opened the carbon copy. Page five said Amina had been notified by phone. Bwana Kileo placed the notice book on the table, bound with a yellow ribbon.
They compared page numbers first. Baraka's copy said the meeting was on page seventeen; the records book had a page sixteen, while page seventeen listed parents who had received notice about a school trip. No company appeared.
"Someone skipped a page," Musa said.
"Pages do not skip themselves," the elder replied. "But the board took these books last week."
Amina did not answer. She wanted records, not a statement that could pull the elder into a side.
They searched for Amina's number in the delivery register. A number ending in 447 appeared, but it belonged to a delivery two years earlier. The date column for the alleged meeting was blank. Musa used a ruler to compare the length of the line written after her name.
"This ink is newer," he said.
Bwana Kileo produced another carbon copy from a cabinet. It carried Mama Njeri's signature and the company stamp, but no signature from Baraka.
Amina read the date. "Mama Njeri signed before the meeting?"
"She came on the second day," the elder said. "She said she needed a copy for the investor."
"Did she mention Baraka?"
"She called him the temporary chair."
Amina could have declared that they had lied. Instead she opened her notebook. "Please write that this carbon copy came from this cabinet, with the book's date and the state of its seal. Do not write a conclusion."
Musa looked at her. "Even now you are protecting Mama Njeri?"
"I am protecting the process. If we claim forgery before showing the difference, Baraka will say we want revenge."
The old delivery register showed names of parents receiving school-trip notices on the same day. No member had signed. Bwana Kileo wrote a provenance statement, and Amina requested a photograph only of the page carrying the company name and date. Other parents' information was covered before the picture was taken.
Musa checked the scan on the flash drive. Page seventeen had a torn edge. A fragment of a signature remained inside the edge, but Amina refused to pretend to be a handwriting expert.
The provenance note now said: the original register was seen; delivery notice to Amina was absent; the phone line was written in later ink; and the page numbers conflicted. That was enough to request a new meeting without naming the writer.
Mama Njeri sent a message: *Every minute you delay is money lost.*
Amina answered: *Every minute of an unchecked record can create a new debt.*
Musa sealed the envelope with the library stamp. Bwana Kileo told Amina not to return in anger.
"I will return with dates and questions," she said.
When they stepped outside, Musa admitted he feared Baraka would blame him for the library record. Amina told him the truth of a source did not depend on whether someone liked hearing it.
On the carbon copy, the line saying Amina had been notified was written in the same ink as the new company name. The page carrying the old list was faded. Amina photographed only that difference and closed the packet, knowing the next test would be whether the disputed proxy could survive a proper meeting.
The library statement became the independent source that could support the objection without naming a culprit. Bwana Kileo tied the record book with ribbon before two witnesses. # End of Chapter
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