Page 65 of Cursed Daughters
“What are you planning to do next?” asked Ashley. So Eniiyi explained about genetic counselling. She could almost get carried away, but she didn’t forget what her true intentions were, why she’d arranged this in the first place, and so she carried on talking, hoping to ease Uncle Tolu into the topic.
She waited for him to get comfortable, for the wine to relax his shoulders, and then she leantin.
“So, Aunty Monife…” His eyes flew open and he looked left and right, as though searching for her mother or grandmothers for backup. Luckily, there was no one there. “Where was she when she drowned?”
He pressed his lips together and sat up. Ashley sucked in a breath. Her uncle opened his mouth and shut it again.
“The beach. Elegushi beach. The ninth of April 2000.”
“Were you there?”
He and Ashley exchanged looks. “They…your mother has never told you?”
If she admitted that no one had told her a single thing, her uncle might clam up, continue the family silence. But she wasn’t sure she could pull off anything else. She had already revealed her hand.
“I think I’m owed the truth,” she said. “I am constantly compared to her, and yet I know next to nothing.”
“You should really talk to your mother, Eni,” said Ashley. But Eniiyi did not look at her; she kept her eyes trained on her uncle, who was working out what he shoulddo.
“She is not a child,” he said eventually. “Monife drowned. But it wasn’t an accident. She took herself there, and she walked into the water and…” She could see he was struggling to say the S word.
She was stunned. She blinked a couple of times and her mouth hung open. She had taken for granted that Monife’s death had been an accident; no other possibility had ever entered her mind. But now she could understand the odd looks, the intense secrecy, the fog that had gathered around Monife and her death. Her aunt had killed herself.
Her brain was working hard and fast, making up for twenty-four years of misinformation. She did not know how much longer she would have her uncle’s attention.
“Why? Why did she do it?”
Tolu shrugged and drained the port. “Now that is a question only your mother can answer.”
PART VII
Ebun
(2006–2012)
I
Ebun’s half-brothers were more acquaintances than siblings. She was familiar with them, could describe them to a stranger, but she had no real relationship with them. Still, every now and then, they would remember her, try to include her; especially once she became a mother.
This time, Tomisin, second son of her mother’s third husband, invited her for his daughter’s tenth birthday. And she decided to accept the invitation, because Eniiyi was rarely in the company of other children.
The doors of her brother’s home were opened for her, and she was led through a long, wide corridor with marble floors to the back of the house. Tomisin worked in the oil industry and was clearly a success.
Eniiyi was twisting her head this way and that, looking at the expensive furniture as they walked through the house to the garden. Janet Jackson’s “Doesn’t Really Matter” blared from the stereo and the garden was brimming with guests chatting to one another, sipping from wine glasses, whilst the children ran around chasing each other. And in the centre of it all was a swimming pool. Ebun instinctively tightened her grip on Eniiyi’s shoulder; if she had learnt one thing about the six-year-old, it was that she would run towards the most dangerous thing she spotted.
She searched for her brother, and failing that, his wife, Odeli—who was hard to miss. She had braids that shone and shimmered all the way down past her ass, and she had squeezed into a skin-tight,translucent dress that hugged her every curve. The outfit was not exactly appropriate for a children’s party, but then this children’s party seemed to be as much for the adults as for the children. Her sister-in-law was standing with three other women, who gave Ebun a once-over as she drew near. Odeli greeted her warmly and gave her three air kisses.
“You made it!”
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh, and this must be little Enitan. Goodness, look at that hair! It’s exquisite!”
“Eniiyi.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course.” Odeli twisted her body and waved to a woman in a plain uniform, who came jogging over. “Please take Eyini to meet the children.”
Ebun held her daughter’s hand tighter. “It’s okay. She is fine with me.”
