Page 98 of Cursed Daughters
He shook his head in disbelief, and then thanked her.
After he left, the place was enveloped in silence, and she could not hear anything, apart from the sound of the surf rolling against the shore. Moonlight shimmered on the dark ocean. Terror struck her for a moment and then she laughed at herself. What was she afraid of? Death? She had gone back and forth about whether to leave a note. In the end, she had gone with writing that they should look after Sango and that she would see them all in another life. Death was not the end.
She took off her shoes and walked down the beach, the sand cold beneath her feet.
The water beckoned.
PART XI
Eniiyi
(2025)
Falodun Family Curse
Monife, daughter of Bunmi, daughter of Afoke, daughter of Kunle, son of Tobi, daughter of Yemisi, daughter of Wemimo, daughter of Feranmi (the one who was cursed), fell in love with Golden Boy. It was like something out of a fairy tale. It was as though they had known each other in a previous life. She couldn’t have said what it was that set Golden Boy apart from all the guys she had known, except she saw his golden eyes whenever she closed hers, and he was beautiful inside andout.
But as with all fairy tales, there was a wicked queen; and soon everyone was tainted by her prejudice and cruelty. The golden boy lost his innocence, the cousin lost her honour, the girl lost her will to live and the curse gained for itself another victim.
I
The night before Eniiyi was due to meet Zubby’s parents, a thick fog settled over Lagos and she was overcome by a fever. Her bones were aching and her head felt as though it would split in two. She dragged herself into the bathroom and dunked a hand towel in a bowl of cold water before placing it on her forehead.
She crawled back into bed. Time passed, she couldn’t have said how long. At some point she heard her mother speak, but she dared not open her eyes.
“You are feverish. Take off the duvet. We need to cool you down.”
Her mother tried to remove it, but she only held on tighter. Her skin may have been burning, but her bones felt as though they were being whipped in a storm. Ebun eventually gave up, and Eniiyi returned to sleep. Sometimes she would see slivers of Monife: the sleeve of her shirt, her long, thick hair, her bare flat feet. If Monife was trying to tell her something, she couldn’t hear it above the pounding in her head.
And then someone was giving her water, and slipping a pill into her mouth. Her mother. And behind her, the shape of Grandma East, and the sound of her voice, praying. She was okay. She only wanted to sleep. She meant to tell them that. Perhaps she had told them.
When the fever broke, she was alone. She stepped out of her bed and walked to her window. There wasn’t much to see; the view was blocked by two gnarly trees, but above that there were a dozen stars and a full bright moon. She opened the window to let some air in;there was an odd smell in her room, something fresh and briny, like seawater. She felt better, weak but better.
Still, she could understand her mother’s surprise when she walked down the stairs later that afternoon in a mustard-yellow crop top and maxi skirt with voluminous pockets.
“You’re going out?”
“I had made plans.”
“Plans ke? You were really sick last night.”
“I feel better now.”
“You should be taking it easy. Go back to bed, Eniiyi. Whatever it is can wait.” The suggestion was tempting. Her bed was warm, familiar; the terror in her heart was less familiar. Was this how Zubby had felt before meeting Ebun? She had promised him she would do this. She wanted to do this. She loved him. And even though they had only been together for ten months, she saw a future with him, and the first step was meeting his family. And yet she couldn’t account for how afraid she was.
“I won’t be back late.”
Zubby had offered to pick her up, but she told him she would take an Uber there instead. Her mother wasn’t aware she was still seeing him. She would tell her eventually, but for now she lacked the energy to fight with her.
—
“Na d house be dis?” asked the Uber driver, slowing before a set of gates that were quite unlike her own. They were painted a light grey and made of three-inch-wide rails. You could see through them to view the house, and even in the fog she could already tell the place was pretty big. Beside the gate was emblazoned the number57.
“Yes. I think this is it.”
As if by magic, a man appeared at her window. He was wearing a blue and white uniform, so she guessed he was the security guard. She wound down the glass.
“Good afternoon, ma. Who are you here to see?”
