Page 53 of Cursed Daughters
“Come in. Come in. Ah, Monife! You don come for refund again?”
“No, ma.”
Mama G grinned from ear to ear, sensing a client. Mo had been wrong to worry that a wolf might be a threat to the old woman’s hut; the old womanwasthe wolf. She was led to a table and a young house girl materialised from behind a curtain and brought her a glass of water. She didn’t drink the water; the glass looked a little cloudy. And her nerves were at an all-time high. She and Ebun had always rolled their eyes at Bunmi’s belief in this kind of rubbish, and yet here she was.
Mama G dropped herself into the seat opposite—an ornate, garish thing. “What do you think of my place?” she asked.
“It’s very nice, ma.”
The woman nodded, acknowledging the compliment. She had expected no less.
“So man matter dey worry you.”
“I…umm…I’m with this guy. I’m dating this guy. But his mother is against the relationship.”
“?é o f?´ kí n pa?”
“No. No! No. Nobody should die!”
“O sure?”
“Yes.”
She should have gotten up then, realised this was the wrong place for her. She could have gotten up.
“Okay o. So, kí ló f?´?”
It dawned on her then that she hadn’t really thought this through. She wasn’t here for some love voodoo. She knew Golden Boy loved her. She had never had cause to doubt it. What she didn’t know was if that love was enough. He was becoming more and more susceptible to outside forces. Then there were the generations of women in her family unable to hold a man down. At this rate, she would be no different.
“They say the women in our family are cursed. None of us marry, and if we do—”
“Yes. Your mama don tell me. The woman use blood seal that curse—it is very strong.”
“Look, I just want to be with him. I don’t want to lose him because of a stupid curse.”
Mama G was shaking her head and humming at the same time.
“You young people…You are a fine girl—and boys plenty for ground. Why you dey worry over just one? Na only him dey pursue you?”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
“Nawa o. Okay. Cicera! Cicera!” The young girl reappeared from behind the curtain, and Mama G barked some orders at her in a rapid foreign tongue. Mo couldn’t work out what language it was. Mama G could speak Yoruba fluently, so she had always just assumed she was Yoruba, but perhaps she came from further north. Cicera took her leave, running out of the room, then Mama Gturned back to Mo. “This thing I give you, you must drink am every day. The man must drink am too—at least once. If e drink am two times, even better. You hear?”
“Yes, ma.”
“After that, I give you special paper—you go write his name on it. Fold the paper well, then pin am for the middle part of your pad.”
“My pad?”
“Where you dey menstruate.”
“Umm…what?!”
“Then you go wear this pad when your blood dey heavy. These kind unbreakable bonds always need blood.”
“I don’t know if—”
“The drink and the paper go cost you seventy naira.”
