The years had been hard and full of toil. Over those years, she had never stopped to think of how much things had changed since her husband’s untimely death. So when her only son, Zviroto, married, she had cried, danced and ululated with joy. “Mwari mandiona. Kudzwai Jehovha. Munoona shirikadzi”. She had even written a letter to her brother Tobias in Umtali of the growth of the family. But alas, what started with tears of joy slowly turned into years of sheer, unmet expectancy. That unfulfilled yearning for her son to have a child slowly turned into a somewhat conviction she would not get to hold her son’s child. This scary thought made her withdraw into her cocoon. But she never stopped praying… *** So when the letter from Zviroto had come that evening, telling her they now had a son after many years of barrenness, she never wasted time. That next morning, the first bus that passed through the village found her already standing impatiently under the giant musasa tree.