From the beginning of our relationship, she told me; “Apart from my 8-5 job, I’m also a pastry chef. When I get the orders, I work on them and deliver them to the customers at their doorstep.” 

She was doing very well with her 8-5 job. She is paid well and has a lot of perks that make her job a dream job for so many people. For her to also have an extra job made me believe she’s the one. We would go to places and she won’t waste time proving that she’s in charge. She acts like the man. She wants to get the bills and be the one to settle them. One day she told me, “If you have a problem with that, we can discuss it. I don’t mean to take your place as the man in this relationship. I had issues with that when I was with my ex. He thought I was taking his shine and it was one of the reasons why we didn’t last.”

“Me, Kobina Edu will have a problem with a woman who pays the bill?” I asked in my head. “Never will I make such a mistake.” I didn’t tell her that though. I told her, “No I’m not such a guy to shoot down a woman’s moment to shine. I will love to have the opportunity to pay sometimes but I don’t care if you do. It makes me feel like looking at the world from the top. It looks different. You’re different. I’ve never had a woman who makes an effort to pay the bill.” 

On that issue we were great. She loved to go out so we went out often. She would pay and I would pay sometimes. She pays more often than I do. 

One thing I noticed from the onset of the relationship was the kind of love she had for her pastry job. She would talk about it all day and her experience with some customers. But for the four months that we had been together, I hadn’t seen her deliver a single order. I asked her, “You’ve stopped baking the cake or you have some class of customers you serve?” She answered, “I serve anyone who can afford me. I haven’t had an order for some time now. The last one I had was weeks ago but that coincided with a program I was attending so I didn’t take the order.”

I was in her house one afternoon when she told me, “Give me some minutes. Today you’re going to taste my cake.” Several minutes later, she served me a piece of cake right from the oven. I’ve heard about hot cake but it was my first time ever seeing or tasting one. I took the first bite and she asked me, “How is it?” I had my mouth full so I only nodded my head repeatedly indicating that it was good. But honestly, I didn’t feel anything in my mouth. Cake ought to be sweet but this one was indifferent. It tasted like it didn’t want to be in my mouth. I asked, “So how many flavours do you do?” She spoke passionately about them and the hustle she goes through to get them done. I said in my head; “Maybe there are others that are better than this or she had a bad day today.”

She visited my house and brought cupcakes. I ate one in her presence to let her know that I ate it but I sent the rest to my junior sister. The following day she called me, “Where did you buy those cupcakes? You bought it online I guess? They advertise online with sumptuous-looking fliers but they serve you nonsense when you place an order. Who taught them how to do such abomination?” I screamed on the phone, “Madam be careful. That cake isn’t just an ordinary cake. It was baked with love. It came from a special person.” When I told her it was homemade she said, “Then that person has a long way to go.”

So it wasn’t only me. It wasn’t a problem with my taste bud. The issue was with the cake. 

She came to me one day looking moody. I asked what the problem was and she told me, “I sent an order to a client and she had been on my case since last night. She’s calling the pastries I sent thrash and telling me that I lied to her.” She showed me the messages on her Whatsapp and I said, “It’s better this way than publicly posting about it on Facebook or Instagram. Just try to calm her down. Everyone has a bad day. Maybe it was your bad day. Tell her you’ll give her a discount on her next purchase to compensate her for the bad experience.” 

She was in a very bad mood but she did what I said. The lady’s response was, “If you have any integrity at all, you’ll refund my money. Why will I make another purchase for you to bring me thrash?”

Her mood was affected all day. I realized she has to know the truth and I was the one to tell her the truth. A week later we were having fun when I brought the topic to the table. I told her, “Maybe you should go for a refresher course to learn new technics in pastries. We learn every day and people buy from different people so they compare a lot. Try that and let’s see. Maybe you’ll improve.” She asked me, “You’ve eaten my cake before. Was it bad?” I said, “I sent some to my sister. She didn’t think it was great.” She answered, “Then your sister has a problem. Does she know how to bake a cake? How much does she know about pastries? How about you? You think the same thing too?”

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I knew the wire was live and the little wisdom in me told me not to touch it. I backed out before it generated into something bigger than I could handle. I changed the topic quickly. She insisted on an answer. I told her, “It was just a suggestion but if you think everything is fine, then just ignore my suggestion.”

She’s a very great woman who wants great things for herself so she doesn’t stop doing. Her only problem is she doesn’t listen to other opinions when it comes to her pastry craft. We’ve dated for a year and a half without problems. She knows my parents and they love her. She had told them about her pastry craft but I’ve done everything within my power to prevent her from sending them a piece of the disaster she calls pastries. 

It was my mother’s 60th birthday. I didn’t tell her about it because I knew how far she would take it. But somehow, she got to know about it through my junior sister. She told me, “I will take care of the pastries. Tell your mom she doesn’t need to do a thing in that aspect.” I told her, “My aunt has been the one doing it for her over the years. I don’t think she’ll like to change her, looking at the number of people coming this time.” She understood me and the birthday went on without her cake. After the birthday, she somehow got to know that I lied to her. My sister told her we didn’t have any aunt that does cake. 

She got angry. She accused me of not supporting her dreams. It took me a week to calm her down. I apologized. She still didn’t believe me but she let it go. Now, my Dad’s birthday is coming. She wants to take care of the pastries. I don’t want her to. Is it time for me to tell her the truth? How should I say it for it not to sound like an attack on her beloved craft? If I don’t play it safe, I might lose her. I nearly lost her after my mom’s birthday. I don’t want to risk it and I don’t want to take a risk on her pastries too. She’s simply not good but she doesn’t want to accept it. How do I tell her in a way that won’t bring a fight? 

–Kobina Edu

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