When Hearts Whispers – Episodes
The bus park was busy, conductors calling places, buses breathing out white air, vendors lifting baskets of bananas. Aline held the blue-sealed letter while Uncle Patrice spoke to the woman in the blue dress. Kevin stood close, trying to read faces. The woman looked serious, like a teacher checking exam papers.
“Miss Aline Uwimana?” she asked, turning to Aline. “I am Madame Beata from the art program office. Your letter is real but there is a problem. We have two Aline Uwimanas on our list. We must confirm which one you are before you travel.”
Aline’s eyes widened. “Two?”
Beata nodded. “Yes. We sent a verification code to your phone number. You must show it to me.”
Aline bit her lip. “My phone has no airtime,” she said softly.
Kevin didn’t wait. He ran to a kiosk, bought airtime, and rushed back. “Here,” he said, typing fast and topping up her phone. Aline smiled with relief and checked her messages. A code arrived. She showed it to Beata, who compared it with the list and finally relaxed.
“Good,” Beata said with a small smile. “You are the right Aline. But there is one more thing. You must carry a sample of your work for same-day review. Do you have any drawings?”
Aline opened her sketchbook; the lake, the big tree, the butterfly, Kevin under the shade. Beata turned the pages slowly. “Mm,” she murmured. “Strong hand. Clean lines. You see small details others miss.” She closed the book. “All right. You can travel.”
The conductor shouted, “Kigali! Last seats!” A door hissed open. Uncle Patrice held out the ID tag from the envelope. The bus engine shook like a drum. Time was suddenly thin.
Aline looked at Kevin. The noise of the park softened, like someone had turned a radio low. “Six weeks,” she whispered. “No coming back. Only one call a night.”
Kevin’s heart was loud in his chest. He wanted to say, Stay. He wanted to say, Go. He took a slow breath. “Our small promise is not weak,” he said. “If you go, it will grow.”
Aline searched his face. “Will you wait?”
“I will,” he said. “Every Sunday, I’ll go to the tree by the lake. I’ll bring tea in a flask. And at nine in the night, I’ll answer your call.”
Her eyes shone. “At nine,” she repeated, like a gentle vow.
But Beata cleared her throat. “One more detail,” she said, turning to Patrice. “The letter says fees for transport are covered on arrival. Please do not pay extra to any agent here. There are people who try to trick candidates.”
Patrice nodded quickly. “We understand.”
Aline breathed out. Then she turned and hugged her cousin Sandrine, who had just arrived with a small bag of snacks(Amandazi) and roasted groundnuts. “For the road,” Sandrine said with a grin.
Kevin reached into his pocket and pulled out a green thread bracelet he had tied the night before. “For luck,” he said, placing it in Aline’s palm. “Green for our hills.”
She smiled, then slipped a small page from her sketchbook into his hand, a butterfly with four words below: Promises grow with truth.
The bus driver honked. Beata pointed to the door. “It’s time.”
Aline stepped forward, then paused and turned back. “Kevin,” she called.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for buying airtime,” she said, half laughing, half crying. “Small things are big things.”
He laughed too. “Go shine.”
She climbed the steps. Patrice squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. “Thank you for standing with her,” he said. “Dreams need steady friends.”
The bus pulled out, slow at first, then faster, rolling past stalls and waving hands. Kevin watched until it was only a shape, then a dot, then just the feeling of movement in the air. He opened his hand. The butterfly sketch lay there, wings ready to fly.
He walked to a quiet corner of the park, sat on a painted bench, and looked at the sky. A moto splashed through a shallow puddle. A song played on a small radio; soft, hopeful. Kevin took out his phone. Nine o’clock was many hours away, but he already felt the ring in his heart.
A message buzzed.
It was from a new number: Welcome, Candidate Uwimana. Confirm arrival by replying “Landed” at Nyabugogo. Bring sketchbook to the office by 17:00. Kevin smiled. Official, clear, safe. He typed back to Aline: Message from the program came. All good. I’m waiting by the tree on Sunday.
Across the road, a boy chased a rolling Fanta bottle, laughing. Life kept moving. Kevin stood, folded the drawing carefully, and started the walk to the taxi park home. The hills beyond Huye looked green and wide, like open arms.
At nine tonight, a call would come. And the small promise would speak again.
End of Episode 7! Stay tuned for Episode 8
← Previous: Episode 6 – The Number That Changed Everything | Next: Episode 8 – Jealousy, Trust & a Kigali Art Cliffhanger →
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