Page 68 of Cursed Daughters
“We did our best by both of you.”
“And yet…”
“And yet what? I would never have spoken to my mother like this. O ò ní ?`tò.”
Ebun ignored her mother and turned to her daughter. “Eniiyi, I don’t want you thinking about curses and juju. There are more important things, like your school work. And your friends. And learning to be helpful here at home.”
“Grandma says I don’t have a daddy because of our family curse.”
“What?!”
“She said—”
“That’snothow I said it. The poor child was asking questions I cannot answer, Ebun. Maybe it’s time to—”
“Who’s my daddy?”
Ebun had played with various answers to this question over the years. She had even considered telling the truth. She assumed Eniiyi would ask once she started school and saw that her classmates had two parents, but her daughter hadn’t said anything. Nor had she spoken up during father-centric school activities such as Father’s Day card-making, the father–child sack race during sports day, the parent–teacher meetings. A part of her had wondered at this, but she was so grateful, she didn’t question her luck.
But here it was. Eniiyi was eight now—a tall girl with hooded eyes and a wide smile, wearing a tee and faded jeans. Her hair was plaited into ten braids and then pulled into a single bun. She had a light playfulness that Ebun had struggled to attain all her life. And she was fearless. There was no denying the similarities between her and Monife now. Even the way that Eniiyi stared at her mother, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Why are you asking?”
“I want to meet him.”
“Eniiyi, you don’t need a father. You have me. And your grandmas.”
“Everyone at school knows who their father is. I want to know my own.”
“Are you lacking anything?”
“Yes. I am. A daddy.”
“I did fine without a dad. You will be fine too.”
“Má s? b?´?`. You had a father,” her mother pointed out.
“Not a present one. I think it would have been less painful not having one at all.”
“No, Mum, it wouldn’t have been. You don’t know what that’s like. So you can’t say.” And Eniiyi, who was starting to catch up to her in height, got up and left the room, followed quickly by Sango.
That stung. Ebun didn’t know what to say. Perhaps she had made the wrong choices, but she had made them with the knowledge she had at the time. There was nothing she could do about it now. And if there was any truth to the curse, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, whatever she had done; she and Eniiyi would still have ended up alone.
“Maybe it is time to name the man,” said her mother, using her gentle tone, the tone she employed to manipulate stubborn men and soothe stubborn sons. Ebun was a little offended that her mother thought it could work on her.
“Mum, don’t.”
“It’s not normal for a child not to know who their father is. I have tried to keep my peace, but it is not right.”
“The man is dead, Mum. What do you want me to do?”
Her mother paused for a beat.
“Is he?”
Ebun didn’t bother to respond.
V
