“All your mother knows is rolling dung. Who buys humans? Firstly, did your mother go to school? No. So, she does not know what she is talking about. Secondly, you stink of dung: Who would buy a stinker? You are just dumb because you don’t go to school.”
Giibwa lost confidence in the abduction jibe. Not going to school was her sore point. She revisited Kirabo’s dark skin.
“Kagongolo, your skin is so scorched, you will bite both the upper and lower lip to bleach it with that Ambi cream.” Giibwa sucked both her lower and upper lip between her teeth and pretended to scour her face with effort.
This time, Kirabo ran after her resolutely. Giibwa was not lissom where Kirabo was wind. Giibwa kept glancing over her shoulders. As Kirabo caught up, Giibwa threw the torso of the doll at her and Kirabo stopped to pick it up.
At a safe distance, Giibwa taunted, “All your aunts are sluts.”
“What did you say?”
“That is why your grandfather gives you property.”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
“Guy, public bus; your aunt Gayi, village coach. Fancy a ride?”
Kirabo stopped chasing and pulled out her trump card. “You know what, Giibwa? It is time my grandfather had a word with your father. You have gone beyond.”
Giibwa’s face collapsed. The consequences were dire. She turned and ran out of sight. Kirabo did not chase her. When she returned to their “house,” smoke was everywhere. The matooke and mushrooms, which had been cooking, were burning. Fire had travelled to their “house.” The sackcloth and all of their playthings on the floor were on fire. Kirabo knew she could call Giibwa back, could forget their fight and ask her friend to help her put out the flames, but she did not. Giibwa had gone too far this time. Instead, she broke leafy branches off the trees and beat the fire on the ground until it died. Everything in their “house” was lost.
6
Nsuuta sat against the wall batting her ointment-covered eyelids. She stared through the doorway into the road as if watching the world go up and down. It was still morning, five hours of day. And because the heat had not yet escalated, a sweetness in nature persisted. Kirabo was a few metres away from the door when Nsuuta called, “On whom do I see?”
“On me.”
“Ah, Kirabo. Come in, come in.”
Kirabo stepped in, trying to control her excitement. Even though Grandmother had travelled, Kirabo made sure to sit a little distance away from the doorway. Widow Diba might see her. Diba was that kind of resident who, if you saw her coming while you peed by the roadside, you sat down in your pee and smiled.
“Grandmother has gone to Timiina.”
“To see her relations?”
“She left this morning.”
“Wonderful. It is good for a woman to take a break from marriage and mothering. Let her clan pamper her. She will come back refreshed.”
Kirabo frowned. Was Nsuuta being old, or just being a hypocrite? Old people say pleasant things for the sake of it. Every time Widow Diba came around, Grandmother said Happy to see you, but under her breath she groaned She has come. Kirabo searched Nsuuta’s face, but there was no trace of sarcasm.
“How is your grandfather?”
“He is there like that. You have news for me?”
“Oh, she is impatient,” Nsuuta clapped. “She has not even asked how I have been.”
Kirabo greeted Nsuuta, wondering why a witch would care about good manners.
“I have considered the matters you brought to me.” Nsuuta batted her eyes as if the ointment stung. “But I will only tell you more on condition you will not tell anyone.”
“Not a word; in God’s truth.”
“Well then, firstly, look no further: I found your mother.”
“You did?” Kirabo’s eyes almost popped out.
“She is alive.”
Kirabo clapped and held her mouth.
“She finished studying at Kyambogo Technical College and got married.”
There was silence. Kirabo was not interested in her mother’s intellectual or marital life: Where was she, when would she see her?
Nsuuta must have read her mind, for she continued, “But she cannot see you yet.”
A knife ripped through Kirabo’s chest.
“It is not safe for her to see you.”
“Not safe?”
“She has not told her husband about you.”
“About me?” Kirabo did not understand why she could be a secret.
“She was very young when she had you. And you know what the world is like to girls who get pregnant in school.”
Kirabo did not speak.
“But I saw her heart crying.” Nsuuta held both Kirabo’s shoulders. She was so close Kirabo could see an outer ring, whitish, around Nsuuta’s faded irises. “As soon as you can see her, my powers will let me know. But you must promise to be patient.”
Kirabo blinked rapidly, her long lashes exaggerating the act. All the anticipation about seeing her mother, the first words she would say to her, the way she would hold her, the beautiful things her mother would say, the mountains and mountains of gifts her mother would give her.
“When will it be safe?”
“I will keep checking.”
“Can you not make her sneak to see me? I will never tell; will not even call her ‘Mother.’ Once I clap my eyes on her, ba ppa, I am done. Never to contact her again.”
“I don’t make people do things. Only evil witches do that.”
Anger started to harden Kirabo’s forehead. A witch was a witch, no such thing as a good one.
“Don’t worry, you will see her. If you promise to wait until her marriage is gulu-gulu strong, I will take you to her. You don’t want to destroy her life, do you?”
Kirabo did not shake her head. A marriage built on deception was already dead. The reverend said so in church.
“Keep coming to check on me so I can tell you the latest news about her. Now, the other problem—”
“What is her name?”
“Whose name?”
“My mother’s.”
“The name did not come to me.” Nsuuta wiped her lips. “The other problem was flying, yes?”
When the tears reached her eyes, Kirabo ground her teeth. You cry for the living, you give death permission. The tears remained there, not spilling, not going back.
“There are two of you and one flies out, yes?”
“Hmm.”
“Then be happy.” Nsuuta shook Kirabo’s shoulders as if to loosen her pain. “Look at me, Kirabo. You are not a witch. You are just special, eh?”
“Grandfather says I am special.” But it came out as a wail.
“He has discernment, that man, but I don’t think he sees the whole picture. Listen.” Nsuuta leaned forward. “You fly out of your body because our original state is in you.” She poked Kirabo in a Lucky you way.
“Our original state?”
“Yes, the way women were in the beginning.”
“We were not like this?”
“Of course not.” Nsuuta was indignant, as if this current state were contemptible. “We changed when the original state was bred out of us.”
Kirabo looked at her hands as if to see the change. “Was it bad what we were? Is it what makes me do bad things?”