Page 70 of Cursed Daughters
Stop,said a voice.Breathe.But she didn’t stop and she didn’t breathe. “So what are you doing here? Why are you wearing her clothes?”
“I…I just wanted to know…about who I was before.”
“Excuse you?”
“I…You never talk about it. But everyone says it. And I just wanted to know about her. About me.”
“I swear to God, Eniiyi. I do not want you repeating that nonsense.”
Suddenly the young girl clenched her fist and raised her chin. In that moment, she looked like an exact copy of Mo. Ebun took a step back.
“Grandma West says it is called atunwa. When a person comes back.”
“Eniiyi.”
“But Grandma West said—”
“No buts.”
“But Grandma—”
“Your grand-aunt is not okay.”
“You’re lying. You’re always lying.”
Ebun slapped her. And then she slapped her again. And again. She was not wholly in control. It was like an out-of-body experience. She did not recognise this woman who was beating her child. She wanted to stop. She could hear Eniiyi crying, but it was as though it were coming from a distant place. Sango was barking, but he was on the other side of the door and could do nothing. If Eniiyi had to fear her, if that was what would deter her from embracing the idea of being a reincarnation, then so be it. She was doing this to save her.
In the end, it was her mother who stopped her. Kemi caught her hand mid-slap, the long nails digging firmly into her wrist. “Ebun. Ó ti tó. It is Enough.”
Ebun was indignant, ready to point out the number of times she had been the recipient of her aunt’s or mother’s violent temper; but then she heard Eniiyi’s whimpering. Her daughter was in tears, holding her arm and wincing. Ebun felt as though her heart was being torn in two. She wanted to apologise, but the words would not come. Instead, she left her mother to soothe her crying daughter, and stormed off down the hallway.
VII
Ebun called a family meeting after Eniiyi had locked herself in her room.
The two older women dragged their feet. Her aunt claimed she had to finish cooking the jollof rice; her mother wanted to conclude her phone call; but Ebun sat in the living room, sipping a glass of water, until they both appeared before her.
“What is it you want to say?” asked her aunt.
“Please, sit down.”
The women looked at one another, but in the end, her mother gathered her voluminous bubu and sank into her armchair, while her aunt sat on the sofa and irritably rumbled in her bag for her snuff box. They could not have looked more different, but Ebun knew they would band together if they felt threatened.
“Did you know Eniiyi has become convinced that she is Monife?”
“Haaa! Is that why you beat her like that?!” cried her mother.
“You beat Eniiyi? Why?” demanded Bunmi.
“Don’t. You can’t behave like you didn’t beat us in your day.”
“I don’t recall,” sniffed her mother.
“How will you recall, Mummy? It’s not convenient for you to recall.”
“Don’t talk to me like that! I am still your mother. Èmi ló bí?!”
Ebun sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. This wasn’t going well. “Mummy, Aunty, have you been telling Eniiyi she is the reincarnation of Mo?”
