Page 29 of Cursed Daughters
Her mother gave her a look, one that was part exasperation, part irritation; and the look incensed Eniiyi. She watched as hermother drew close to Grandma West, soothing her, telling her that in fact Eniiyi—no, Monife—would do no such thing. That she was not going to go near the water. Eniiyi turned away from them and, ignoring Sango, who was whining at her feet, stumbled out of the house.
VII
As she closed the gate and spun around, she bumped into a man, who steadied her with his hand.
“Sorry.”
“Ah,” he said, and waved away her apology.
The man loomed over her, and she was by no means short. She took a few steps back and noticed that he was younger than she had first thought. It was the hair. It was close-cropped and beginning to grey, and his jawline was hidden behind a luxurious black-and-white beard. He was a good-looking man, with twinkling eyes. And despite the heat, he was in an interesting black T-shirt, black blazer, black jeans combo. But he had to be sweating like a pig. She moved her swim bag from her right shoulder to her left and prepared to walk away.
“Umm,” he said, causing her to pause. “Is Ebun…is she home?”
Suddenly she was a little more interested in the stranger.
“Depends on who’s asking.”
He cleared his throat. He looked nervous. He rubbed a palm on his thigh, and she realised he was holding a bouquet of flowers. She raised an eyebrow—Ebun had an admirer?
“My name is Osagie.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells. How do you know my mother?”
Was he blushing? Something about the man was endearing; he seemed not to know what to do with himself.
“You’re Eniiyi.”
“The one and only.”
He put out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation she shook it. Strictly speaking, she should have been curtsying for him, but the man didn’t seem to want that formality.
“Is she expecting you?”
“No. I mean, yes. Well, not right now.” Then he started laughing—a booming Santa Claus sound.
“So…you’re a stalker?” He stopped laughing then, and stared at his shoes, saying nothing, and she felt a little guilty for teasing him. “Give her a call. If she wants to see you, she will come down and open the gate.”
She didn’t know the man from Adam, so she wasn’t about to let him in herself. She gave him a smile and walked away. She would find out about this mystery courter on another day.
As she walked to the main road to locate an okada, she felt her phone vibrating. It was Funsho. He had been calling at least once a day since the night at the bar, a fortnight ago. He had reassured her over and over again that he categorically did not fancy her, unless, unless of course, she wanted him to fancy her, LOL. She ignored the call, but a WhatsApp message came through:
I’m at Elegushi with Tobias and crew. You should turnup.
It was the opposite of what she probably needed, but would be more interesting than going to the pool to swim on her own, at least. She replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
VIII
Elegushi beach was not a sexy spot, but a beach was a beach. Eniiyi found Funsho and his friends on reed mats, spread over what could be bird shit. They’d kicked away empty bottles and plastic bags so they had a relatively clear little patch of sand. The important thing was, she was away from the women at home.
She wore a mustard bikini, which blazed brightly against her dark skin, and she caught Funsho gazing at her. But her friend was not the only one. All the members of their party had stolen a glance at some point or other. She quite liked their attention.
All around them people huddled round benches, sat on mats, danced on the sand, played games, ate food; the closest anyone got to the ocean was to dip their feet in the shallows and then, clutching each other, laughing and screaming, run back to the safety of dry sand. None of them were actually going in. Lagos may have been an island, but they might as well have been landlocked for all the use Lagosians got out of the water.
They spent an hour enjoying the ocean breeze, passing around food and joints. One of the boys had brought a speaker for his phone, and as Teni’s “Case” wound down, Burna Boy’s “Gbona” came on. Eniiyi stood up, dusted the sand from her skin and began dancing, comfortable with all the eyes that were on her. This was unlike her; she didn’t usually look for the spotlight. She felt less like Eniiyi, and wondered if this was who Monife had been—sultry, confident, commanding the attention of men and the jealousy of women. Suddenly she noticed one of the gatemen of Elegushi beach running towards them, waving his arms.
“Oya! Everybody! Be going!” The man’s expression was one of irritation; or perhaps it was…fear? But nobody moved. They had each dropped a thousand naira and they were not leaving until they got their money’s worth.
The man continued to shoo at them with his hands. He went from mat to mat, and slowly people began to reluctantly stand up. Someone turned off the music.
