When Tunu returned from the service centre, she wrote three words on the shop’s small board: **REPAIR FIRST, STOCK LATER.** She hung it above the counter where Beka was opening a customer’s second phone. The board normally carried charger prices and the days when the supplier would bring new cables. Now it looked like an instruction for everyone, including Tunu.
“We look as if we have run out of everything,” Beka said.
“We have run out of part of our ability to buy.”
“A customer will ask why.”
“Let them ask. We will answer with what we have, not with a story.”
They opened the cashbook on the repair mat. Tunu made three columns: *today’s cash*, *Beka’s wages*, and *compliance*. Juma’s rent had its own date. Under compliance she wrote the electrician’s deposit, copies of the lease and transport costs for finding Pili. Each column was asking for money the shop did not yet have.
The first ticket belonged to Salim Mando, a motorcycle rider who needed his screen before evening. His deposit would buy adhesive, but not a new screen. Tunu opened the parts drawer and found a screen with a similar model whose connector was different.
“That will not work,” Beka said.
“Right. We will not force the wrong part just to collect cash.”
Salim stepped toward the counter. “I brought the deposit. If I take it to Faraji, he will put in a screen today.”
Tunu explained without mentioning Faraji. “We can order your screen after the deposit. If you need the phone today, the quick option is a temporary connector repair, but I will not make you pay for temporary work without telling you how long it might last.”
Salim looked at Beka, who had placed a picture of the connector on the small laptop. “Can you guarantee it?”
“We can give you an estimate,” Tunu said. “Certainty about a phone is not sold here.”
Salim thought, left the deposit and agreed to collect the phone after the repair. Tunu wrote down a time for a test call. It was a small decision, but it stopped her from using an unsuitable part because she was afraid.
The second ticket was a student’s charging port. The parts were available, but the job required cleaning the board and replacing a tiny spring. Beka wanted to begin himself.
“You do the diagnosis and I will finish the soldering,” Tunu said. “If you do it well, we get two jobs: the phone and your skill.”
“And if I make a mistake?”
“We will pay for it. That is why we test before installing a part.”
That afternoon Beka led the intake queue. He recorded the model, the visible fault and what the customer reported. Tunu discovered that her apprentice knew how to ask about money better than she had assumed. To one customer he said, “The deposit is not the full price. If the board is damaged, we will call before adding work.”
The customer said, “You sound like the owner.”
Beka replied, “I am learning from the owner.”
Near seven, Tunu went to the supplier counter to buy one battery for cash. She carried money that had been set aside for payroll, took only a small portion and left Beka’s wages in the envelope. The supplier clerk handed her the battery and a short receipt.
“You are not taking a big order?” the clerk asked.
“I am reducing for a while.”
“People say the review list is spreading.”
“People say many things. I have a case number.”
The clerk shrugged. “Then keep it safe.”
When Tunu returned, Faraji was outside watching Beka diagnose a phone. “Have you moved into the repair business?” Faraji asked.
“For these days, repairs pay today.”
“Accessories build the margin.”
“A margin cannot pay until the cash arrives.”
Faraji said, “I can give Beka work for a few days. A person should not sit in a shop whose tomorrow is uncertain.”
Beka did not answer. Tunu felt anger rising, not because the offer was meaningless, but because Faraji had chosen the moment when she was counting every wage.
“Give him the offer in writing,” Tunu said. “He can decide from facts.”
Faraji looked at Beka. “Did you hear?”
“I heard.”
Faraji left. Beka stayed holding the screwdriver without turning it.
“Do not stay because you are afraid to disappoint me,” Tunu said. “If you find work with better terms, you must consider it.”
“I went to my mother before coming here. She needs room rent.”
“That is why I will not lock you in with pity. But today this shop still has work. Help me put it in order.”
The last customer brought a phone that had gone completely dark. He said someone in the corridor had told him Tunu was closing, so he wanted the “final price” before losing his chance. Tunu connected a test charger and showed that the fault was in the port, not the whole motherboard. She gave him two choices with different completion times and costs. He chose the ordinary repair and left a deposit, then asked whether the receipt would still count if the shop’s status changed.
“The receipt shows what you paid for,” Tunu said. “It cannot predict tomorrow’s shop. That is why I have written this contact number.”
She wrote the shop number and case reference on a small slip. The customer put it inside his phone cover. Beka watched Tunu and understood that every ticket was also a test of rebuilding trust.
Later Beka opened the spare-parts drawer and found two connectors mixed with damaged ones. He put them in a tray marked *test only*. Tunu taught him to separate “looks new” from “has been tested.” The lesson delayed closing by twenty minutes, but it saved them from returning a badly repaired phone.
They called every customer who had left a phone. Three repairs were completed. Salim made his test call, the student collected his phone, and the speaker customer paid extra after Tunu showed him the replaced part. Cash came in, but much of it went to the battery, adhesive and a small refund for a customer who had waited an extra day.
At closing, Tunu entered the day’s notes in the correct columns. Beka counted the payroll envelope. Tunu counted the compliance deposit again, then the rent. No one had stolen anything; the numbers were clear. The problem was that repair revenue could cover part of the wages but not all of it.
Beka pushed the calculator toward her. “We are close.”
“Close is not the same as there.”
Tunu closed the cashbook, lifted the board reading **REPAIR FIRST, STOCK LATER**, and looked at it as if it might offer another answer. Instead she wrote beneath payroll in red ink: **STILL SHORT TWO DAYS OF INCOME.**
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