Baking Cakes and Taking Names

"I make these shoes, edible shoes. And this lady phoned, I will never forget, she phoned and she asked: what size shoe is this shoe? So I told her it’s a size three. She asked, “Patsy, can’t you make me a size six?” I told her yis, and she asked can I make two shoes. So I said yis. But then I asked her, “Do you know it is a shoe for eating?” And she didn't believe me! She said “No Patsy, it’s such a beautiful shoe!” That's how real it looks."

Patsy wore yellow to the interview. She explained that her hair had minced in the mist this morning and  it didn't usually look this way. She stood with her neon pink binder against the wall for her photograph. I liked Patsy. If it were up to me she'd definitely be accepted onto the programme. Students from a local business school and a business school in the States are running an entrepreneurial training programme for small business owners over July. My students have been tasked with interviewing the potential participants and selecting recruits for the programme. As per youge, I'm doing nothing more useful than sitting in a corner taking notes, and in this case also oohing and aahing at pictures of Patsy's cakes.

Patsy runs her business from her kitchen in Eastridge, Mitchell's Plain. “My stove is old, it’s an old stove. I’m just praying that it doesn’t break!” And from her kitchen she makes cakes and other fancies. The problem see, is her market. Residents from the surrounding communities are poor, they can't afford Charly's Bakery prices so she has to make cakes at affordable prices, which means she doesn't make massive profit. And when she advertised on Gumtree to reach a wider market, "it all was fine until they heard I was in Mitchell's Plain and then they said no thank you I've found somewhere else." I nod, I understand. Cape Tonians who can afford bespoke baked goods might not necessarily know that Mitchell's Plain is more neighbourhood than hood. Pity, because in addition to everything else, they're missing out on some delicious-looking cake. 

Next on the interview schedule was Zelna. "I'm the only lady in batteries," she explains, "in the whole of SAWEN, it's just me. Some of the other ladies are in construction, but no one else in batteries." Her rows of silver bangles click and clang as she moves her arms. "This game is not actually for a lady, but I'm here." She's here because the man who owned the business before her had a gambling problem and lost everything. She shakes her head at all the gamblers, the drugs: "it was his daughter too," she told us conspiratorially. "She also used that money for gambling and drugs."

But she's got her head screwed on right, she's got ambition she says and she wants to grow the business this year. She wants an empire, she laughs. She broke her ankle because on the 6th of January she fitted 15 batteries and when she got home she was so tired she just fell over. She tells story after story. I'm entranced. The end of the interview and it's photograph time. She stands and says: "Mm, but I'm glad I had my hair done today. Usually I only have my hair fixed on a Friday, but I have an exhibition tomorrow so I must look good." She smiles for the camera and checks the picture on the tiny screen, nodding her approval. 

All in all a good morning. An interesting morning. A morning full of stories; my favourite. And a morning that's reminded me I need a haircut. And maybe a piece of cake. Mm, yes. I wouldn't mind a piece of cake.