Chapter 4:The choice

Tunde found her crying in the kitchen late in the evening, surrounded by flour and

the remnants of the day's work. He did not say anything at first. He simply came

over and held her without speaking, letting her tears fall onto his shoulder. He

had learned, over the years that they had worked together, that sometimes holding

was better than talking. Sometimes what people needed was just to be held while

they fell apart.

"I made a mistake," Chioma said finally, her voice breaking. "I should not have

expanded. I should have said no to Mr. Okafor. I should have listened to my

instincts instead of listening to the promise of money and fame."

"You did not make a mistake," Tunde said gently, pulling back to look at her face.

"You made a choice. You made the choice that you thought was right at the time.

And now you have to make another choice."

"What do you mean? What other choice is there?"

"I mean you have to decide what matters more to you," he said carefully. "You have

to decide between two things. On one side, there is the security of having two

locations, of making more money, of being successful on paper, of having a

business that looks impressive. On the other side, there is the purity of having

one small bakery where everything is exactly how you want it. Where every loaf is

perfect. Where you know every person who eats your bread. You cannot have both.

You have to choose."

Chioma looked down at her hands. They were permanently stained now, no matter how

much she washed them, no matter what soap or scrub she used. There was paint from

the art she did in the mornings before coming to the bakery — deep blues and golds

and crimsons. There was flour, worked into the lines of her palms from years of

kneading dough. There was oil from the machines in the kitchen. Her hands told the

complete story of everything she did, everything she had sacrificed, everything

she had chosen.

"I want the small bakery," she said quietly, the decision crystallizing as she

spoke the words aloud. "I want the original. I want Lekji. That is where my heart

is. That is where my grandmother's legacy lives."

"Then close the Ikoyi location," Tunde said simply.

"But Tunde, we have commitments. We have long-term leases. We have investors who

are expecting returns. We have made promises."

"And you have a responsibility to yourself," he said firmly. "You have a

responsibility to your craft. You have a responsibility to your grandmother's

memory. All of those things matter more than money. All of those things matter

more than keeping promises to people who do not understand what you are trying to

do."

So Chioma made the hardest business decision of her life. She worked with Tunde

over the next month to close the Ikoyi location. She paid penalties for breaking

the lease early. She broke contracts. She gave up the money that was starting to

flow in, the success that was starting to build, the expansion that should have

made her rich.

And when it was all done, when the last day came and she locked the doors of the

Ikoyi bakery for the last time, she felt like she could breathe again. It was as

if a weight that she had been carrying without realizing it had been lifted from

her shoulders.

She went back to her small bakery in Lekki. She fired the other bakers who did not

understand her philosophy, who did not care about quality the way she did. She

worked alone again, waking at four in the morning, baking bread until noon, then

spending her afternoons teaching at a culinary institute, sharing what her

grandmother had taught her.

She was poorer than she had been with the expansion. She was less impressive on paper . But her bread was perfect again and that was what mattered.

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