HER💚

Delice Mukazi
Nov 6
5 min read

It was mid-2019. I was a fresh graduate, newly stepping into the world of “real jobs.” Until then, I had only done gigs here and there, nothing serious. Then came this first proper job, and with it, all the grown-up responsibilities started coming in. I was at the ATM machine that day, changing the PIN of my card, and pretending to know what I was doing. Until I messed up.

My very first attempt at using that card didn’t go well — the card got stuck in the machine. Just like that! A staff member had to rush to the back to retrieve it.

They told me someone was coming to help. A lady. So, I stood there politely, trying not to look too embarrassed. Somewhere in the corridor, I heard her name — Diane.

After a few minutes of waiting, I finally saw her approaching. Dios mio! If this is how people walk, then some should just stop walking altogether and crawl, at least crawling doesn’t require speed! This lady was walking like a tortoise, as if I had interrupted her peace, as if she was silently saying, “Who doesn’t know how to use an ATM machine?”

She kept walking, slowly, steadily and finally reached the ATM. Let’s not even talk about the look she gave me, mpbha! But anyway, I got my card back.

That’s how I met her for the very first time.

We happened to work for the same institution, though in different roles. She had been there for a while; I had just joined.

A few years later, our paths crossed again. She had just returned from Lagos and was deployed to the same branch where I worked. We started talking like any ordinary colleagues, nothing out of the ordinary, just friendly, work-related chats. Slowly, we got used to each other’s presence. Not too close, but close enough to no longer feel like strangers.

After a few months, she was transferred to the head office. Our only link kept being work —help with this, help with that, and that was it.

When I went to Europe, I bought her a big bar of chocolate, which she later shared with her team. Honestly, I don’t even remember why I brought it for her — maybe kwari uguhinda, lol — but somehow, that small gesture started a new thread of connection between us.

A month later, I was also deployed to work from the main branch — the head office.

Though I already knew a few people there, she was the one I could talk to with ease. She helped me settle in, showing me how things worked.

“How do you do it for lunch?” she asked one afternoon.

I laughed awkwardly. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ll figure it out,” I said.

“You know,” she smiled, “I still pack my lunch. Maybe we can share. I can start packing enough for two.”

Mbanza kwinyuza hirya no hino bya Kinyarwanda, trying to play it off, but eventually I said, “Well… it’s okay.”

Next thing I knew, we were leaving the office together every day. After lunch, I became the passenger princess.

That’s how it began, how we got close, how we became inseparable. Where she was, I was. Where I was, she was. And honestly, that hasn’t changed to this day.

Our friendship grew naturally, from gossiping about work to talking about real life: family, dreams, fears, career, love, and everything in between.

I’ve been meaning to write this for so long, yet now that I finally am, words seem too small. How do you describe someone who’s given you this kind of friendship?

I don’t know what others call her, but to me, she’s simply DANO.

Okay, mbuze aho mpera! Hahaha.

This girl has been there for me in every possible way — in tears, in laughter, in confusion, and through every curveball life threw at me. Even now that we no longer work together, nothing has changed. Instead, our bond has grown even stronger, so strong that I somehow became her mama’s adopted daughter.

“Wibuke ushyire Delice ikigoli, akira isombe ushyire Delice, akira iki gikombe ugishyire Delice ajye ashyiramo umunyu, n’iri cupa ajye ashyiramo amavuta.”

What is blood harya? No, God has His own mysterious way of sending you the people you need.

We’ve only known each other for a few years, but when you look at us… you’d swear we’ve shared a lifetime.

This madam knows how to deal with me when I start acting like I’m two years old. She keeps me up late at night talking, as if we’re dating. The way we laugh together like mad women, nothing in the world can buy that kind of joy.

We’ve been to places, and we still have a bucket list, though, to be fair, it’s been untouched since the day we pinned it in our chat (lol, us and life have been facing each other lately 😂).

She’s the type of friend who leaves meetings just to come and say hi when I pass by her office. The kind who pauses everything to attend to my needs. The kind who misses me and actually says it.

And the “I love yous” she tells me, and oh, they’re not the usual ones.

Tutirengagije ko ajya anantuka, lol — but aba ari mpangara nguhangare! 😁😁

Did I mention that she’s my rich auntie? She is, but she’s also much more than that.

I’m sorry if she doesn’t treat you the same, unywe amazi birashira! 😂 Or maybe try to bribe her — buy her meat or anything green. She might give you a little portion of her love, but still, you stand a 0.0000000001% chance. You simply can’t be me. Lol.

So, today is her birthday. And someone has to tell her how important she is. How valuable she is. How her friendship is a treasure. How God must have been thinking of people like me when He created her. (I’m not sure if her man will ever match this mitoma level, lol.)

So, mamie (in PP’s voice), I know you’re reading this. I just wanted to tell imbaga y’abadukurikiye what you mean to me; how deeply grateful I am to have you in my life.

Little did I know that the girl I met in 2019 would become my 911 — the person I’d stay up past midnight writing about. You’ve supported me in ways that defy understanding, and every single one of them is tattooed on my heart.

May this year be the best one yet.

May it mark the beginning of your era.

May God bless you abundantly, protect you, and guide your every step.

May He reveal Himself to you in every part of your life.

May He keep you always.

Nzamira igisasu ku bwawe! 😁