The Manila Envelope 8. The Manila Envelope Tendayi BloomI hadn’t really believed Mom would come, but, standing in line in the wings of the Holy Family Ceremonial Hall – the big wooden room by the library – it’s hard not to hope. Stepping out onto the platform when my name’s called, I can’t stop myself scanning the faces, willing Mom’s to be among them, then sagging when it’s clear she’s not there. Shaking Ms Navarro’s hand, it takes all my energy to hold back the tears. I take the book and certificate without looking at them. Once back among the rows of girls below the stage, I shove them under my seat and slump back, biting my lip, kneading my fingers.What was it Mom said after that first awards ceremony?‘That certificate is by rights your dad’s.’And, later: ‘Smiling at your success? You glad he’s gone?’Like every year, I wish I could swap the awards, the good school, the bedroom of my own, everything, for Dad to put his hand on my head like before, and for him to make Mom smile.Like every year, as the ceremony closes, Ms Navarro invites the girls to join their families for snacks in the staff area of the canteen.
