Page 42 of Cursed Daughters
“I don’t know, Mum,” she said when she caught her breath. She was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her face. “I do not know.”
Eventually she and Ebun managed to shoo the bird out of the room. Ebun opened the front door and it made its escape.
“It’s a bad omen,” said Bunmi, as soon as they had caught their breath.
“Mum, it’s just a bird.”
“No bird inside a house is just a bird. Is the house its natural habitat?” she asked, as if only a mad person wouldn’t see this for what it was.
“I don’t think the bird had an agenda.”
“It’s true, Aunty. It was more afraid of us than we were of it,” said Ebun, putting down her broom.
“I am going to go and call Mama G,” her mother announced, which made Ebun roll her eyes.
It was only later that evening, as Monife thought of the bird in their home, that it dawned on her that all the windows in the house had bars across them—making it impossible for burglars, and by extension, birds, to make their wayin.
VI
“Does this mean he is going to propose?”
Her mother, aunt and cousin were all in her bedroom. Mo hadn’t invited them; they had simply shown up one by one. But she didn’t mind the way the conversation was going—she wanted to be married to Golden Boy. She loved the sensation she got when she made him laugh, she loved the scent of him. She felt an unexplainable sense of wanting to fall asleep whenever she was in his presence, and she could only attribute this to the strong feeling of safety that he gave her. Nor did it hurt that he was fine; just walking beside him gave her a sense of pride. They were a handsome couple.
And he loved her. It was in the way he would touch her, often and lightly—a hand on her shoulder, a wrapping of his arm around her waist, a tapping on her thigh—as though he had to stay connected to her physically.
There was not a single shred of doubt in her mind that they would be together for ever. She wouldn’t entertain any other thought. He opened his heart to her; he had loved her steadily and without question since he’d asked her to be his. Still, she had never been introduced to a boyfriend’s mother before, and so she welcomed her family’s interference. The two mothers were fussing over her—Aunty Kemi had lent her jewellery and her mother had showed up with a silver purse.
“Which one?” Mo asked them, presenting the options—a ruby-red mesh dress with a paisley pattern, a dark mature-brown sleeveless button-up dress, or a mustard-yellow sundress. Her motherpointed at the brown, but she decided to go with the yellow; her skin would shine beneathit.
“So why did you even ask me?” her mother grouched.
“Sorry. Don’t be angry.”
“So, is he going to propose? You are twenty now.”
“I don’t know, Mum. Maybe. Maybe soon.”
“Why are we so obsessed with guys, and marriage, and—”
“Ebun, abeg,” declared Aunty Kemi. “This is not the time for your feminist speeches.”
Mo hoped it didn’t show on her face, but she was grateful for her aunt’s interjection.
“What should I do with my hair?”
“Put it up. It is better when you look neat.” But her hair was at its most glorious when it was allowed to fly free. She quickly separated it into eight parts with her finger, then twisted each part tightly. She would undo the twists just before she left the house. She brushed the edges down with a little bit of gel and then used a scarf to hold the hair in place. Her mother was muttering about how Monife never listened.
She sprayed perfume in the air and then stepped into it. “Am I ready?” She spun for the three of them. Her mother and aunt smiled and nodded. She turned to Ebun.
“You look beautiful,” her cousin admitted.
VII
He came to pick her up at five p.m., exactly as he had promised. He had never made her wait for him.
“You look…I mean…damn.”
“Thank you.” She’d put a cream cardigan over her mustard sundress. It was Harmattan, so the air was very dry and slightly chilly. He spotted her mother coming out onto the front step, and he quickly bowed his head.
