Page 73 of Cursed Daughters
“Okay, well let’s pick one, and if you get in, I think it’s best you start in September.”
“Can I go tell the grandmas?”
“Sure.” And then her daughter was off, and Ebun was left to nurse her aching heart.
IX
The school Ebun chose had a policy that all the girls were required to cut their hair. She expected resistance from Eniiyi. Eniiyi’s hair, when stretched, reached her mid-back. But her daughter agreed to being shorn of her glory as if it were nothing, as if she had been waiting for the opportunity all along. And it was left to Ebun to doit.
Each day, Eniiyi would come to her. “Are we cutting it today?”
And each day, Ebun couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. “Not today, maybe tomorrow.”
And the next day, on and on, until September 13 was only a week away. Ebun knew her child; if she didn’t act soon, her daughter would take matters into her own hands and end up looking like a patchwork doll. So one early morning, she opened Eniiyi’s bedroom door and beckoned to her.
“Oya, let’s do it.” She didn’t have to say what “it” was. Eniiyi sprang out of bed.
She sat her daughter in the bathroom they shared and smoothed a towel over her shoulders. She ran her hand one more time through Eniiyi’s hair, and then she lifted the hair up, using a crab to hold it in place. Eniiyi’s birthmark was there on the back of her neck, brighter than ever against her otherwise dark skin—the detail Ebun had used time and time again to reassure herself that Eniiyi was her own person; but it was easy to forget its existence, hidden as it was beneath her daughter’s voluminous hair.
She reached for the scissors. Even as she started cutting, herdaughter did not flinch. Eniiyi seemed to be shedding the burden of living with her grandmothers and mother, the burden of living the life of another, and the burden of carrying all their hopes and fears.
As her daughter’s tightly coiled locks fell to the ground, so did Ebun’s tears.
PART VIII
Monife
(1995–1996)
I
She returned from her run with Sango feeling lighter. The madness that had seized her was abating. She would throw away Mama G’s products, she would bare her heart to Golden Boy and they would make it through the chaos. Fuck the curse. She wasn’t going to let that stop them from being together.
When she saw him standing at her gate, she took it as a sign. Destiny was on her side. They exchanged a chaste kiss and then he followed her inside.
“How was your trip? Has your uncle been thoroughly guided to the great beyond?”
“You’re a funny one. The trip was all right. I spent most of the time wishing you were there.”
She resisted the urge to point out that he could have invited her. She poured water into Sango’s bowl and then joined Golden Boy in the east living room, sitting beside him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She was sweaty but guessed he wouldn’t mind.
“Mo, you stink,” he grumbled as he tried to pull away. She raised herself and rubbed her cheek against his. “Ugh, Mo!” He succeeded in disentangling himself and went to the bathroom to cleanup.
Across the room, Sango was nudging her handbag with his nose. She had forgotten to give him his snack but was too lazy to stand up. When GB re-entered, drying off his face with the bathroom hand towel, she pointed to the bag. “Sango expects a treat as a reward for going on a walk,” she said. “Would you mind?”
“He expects to be rewarded…for walking?”
“Yup, and if I don’t comply, he might never follow me outside again. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”
Golden Boy leant forward and scooped up the handle of her bag, spilling half the contents on the floor with his sudden motion. As he picked up lipsticks, a wallet, several pens and pencils, Monife spotted the pad. She had completely forgotten about it. She stood up just as Golden Boy lifted the object from the floor; time slowed. Perhaps he wouldn’t look closely at it, perhaps she could grab it from him, perhaps…but it was too late. He had noticed the text. His name was hard to miss; it was written in capitals, black ink against the white paper pinned to the fabric.
He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes stony.
“What is this?”
She didn’t answer him. Her brain wasn’t working fast enough. It was obvious that a lie was needed, but what lie?
“Mo?”
