Page 39 of Cursed Daughters
“What?”
“When did this one start?”
“What do you care?”
“Excuse me? I care. Ebun, I don’t want you smoking this stuff.”
“Hypocrite much?” her brother said, but she ignored him.
“So, your boyfriend travels and suddenly you want to play big cousin again.” Ebun’s words were filled with so much vitriol, Mo took a step back. “We haven’t had a proper conversation in months. You have no idea what is going on in my life!”
She stormed out of the room. Mo looked at Tolu, and Tolu shrugged.
“It’s probably her period or something.”
Mo narrowed her eyes and took a drag from the spliff. Golden Boy wouldn’t approve, but she only indulged every now and then. But maybe Ebun was right—she had been preoccupied with Golden Boy recently. Maybe, just maybe, she’d overlooked her. She handed the weed back to her brother and went in search of her cousin.
—
Ebun was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Go away.”
“Make me.” Mo sat on the desk and Sango settled down beside her. “What’s doing you?”
“What’s doing me? What’s doing you? All you care about is man. You’re no different from my mum.”
That stung. Mo might not disapprove of Aunty Kemi being a serial dater, but she definitely did not consider them two peas in a pod. For one, Aunty Kemi didn’t believe in love, or so she claimed. And for another, her aunt used foundation that was two shades lighter than her natural skin tone, and always applied a fake beauty spot just below her eye. Mo, on the other hand, was happy with her ebony skin and natural hair. But now wasn’t the time to belabour the point. Her normally composed cousin was clearly upset.
“Are you going to fight me, or are you going to tell me what’s really upsetting you?”
Ebun sighed and then sat up slowly. “Mum wants me to go and ask my dad for money for university.”
“Ooof!”
“Yea. I told her I’d rather eat rocks. Why does she always do this? Why can’tsheask for the money? I barely know him! Or better yet, why can’t she earn the money herself? If she spent a quarter of the time selling her jewellery that she spends chasing man, she would probably be a millionaire by now.”
“Do you want me to talk to her?”
Ebun glared at her, torn between still being angry at where she now ranked in Monife’s list of priorities and wanting her older cousin’s help.
“Would you?” she finally said.
III
It was clear Aunty Kemi had struck out. When her “man-friend” dates were successful and they lined her pockets with cash, she would come home and pour herself a generous bowl of gari, which would be topped with two spoons of sugar, a dash of milk, large cubes of ice and a handful of groundnuts. Beside this bowl would be a plate of asun, or beans, or snails.
But on the days when she returned empty-handed, her bowl of gari would have no ice, no groundnuts, no milk; just water and a meagre spoon of sugar. And there would be no side plate with accompanying delicacies, signalling to her family that they needed to save all the money they could.
Mo found her in the dining room, leaning over a plain bowl of gari and muttering to herself—the coming month was going to be tough on their household. She was tempted to turn back, but she remembered how frustrated Ebun had been.
“Aunty, no luck today?”
Aunty Kemi sighed. “I was close o! But then his wives came and dragged him away.”
Mo burst into laughter. “Maybe you should stop going after the married ones.”
“Hmm. They are the ones with the loosest pockets o! No one spends money better than a man that has his own family to take care of.”
Since Kemi’s efforts had come to naught, Mo would have to tread lightly.
