He started running my life with superstitions the very day we started dating. It was alright as far as it didn’t hurt me and it didn’t affect the very nature of the relationship that we were in. I had my natural hair on when we started the relationship. He didn’t tell me anything about my natural hair until I told him I wanted to twist it. He asked, “Don’t you feel comfortable in your own hair?” I said, “I’ve always loved my natural hair that’s why I’ve kept it natural all this while.” He said, “So why are you going to twist it?” I said, “Nothing. Just to give me a different look I guess.” He said, “Keep it like that.”

I thought it was just a suggestion until I twisted my hair some weeks later. He frowned when he saw me. I said, “I’m sorry but I had to.” I laughed. I thought it wasn‘t anything serious. He said, “You can’t twist your hair just because of a different look. If God wanted you to have a twisted hair, he would have given it to you right from the womb.” It turned into an argument. Finally, he said, “If you really want us to go on, you’ll listen to me sometimes.”

Our relationship was very young then, barely a couple of months old. I didn’t want us to have our first fight just because of my hair. I asked him, “Does it mean I can’t do anything to my hair? Ever?” He said, “Love your natural hair. That’s what God gave you.”

I went back to the salon and got my hair untwisted. Things we do for love. I thought it would end there. I thought it was just a one-off thing that won’t surface again to give us a reason to fight. But I was lying. The rules kept unfolding and started getting me uncomfortable. This was an educated guy who had completed the university and working in a reputable institution. Some of the things he said, you won’t even anticipate it from a guy who had never stepped a foot in class one.

I was with him one evening when I felt a little bit hungry. I thought of preparing salad but on second thought, I just decided to boil an egg and eat instead. When I finished boiling the egg and took it to the hall, he asked me, “Is that what you are coming to eat?” I said, “Yeah. It’s enough to keep me going. It’s late. I can’t eat anything heavy.” He said, “It’s late that’s why you can’t eat a full-boiled egg.” I asked, “I can’t eat a full-boiled egg? Why can’t I?” He said, “You’ll be biting into your future kids if you eat an egg at this time.” It was funny and shocking at the same time. I said, “Tell me you’re joking.” He said, “Everything is a joke to you, right?”

I looked at the egg on the plate and looked at his face. I said, “This is the first time I’m hearing this and it’s actually funny.” He said, “There are a lot of secrets in this world we don’t know. Most of our sufferings come from the little mistakes we do because we didn’t know the rules. You should be happy that I’m telling you this.” Then I remembered the name of his church—a church I only learned of its existence because of him. I asked, “So is this religious? Or it’s one of those childhood superstitions we were raised with.” He said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s the truth that sets us free.”

I looked at the miserable egg on the plate, catching cold and begging to be eaten. I walked back to the kitchen and immediately I went off his sight, I threw the egg down my throat and started biting into it mercilessly. If indeed I was biting through my future kids, then those kids wouldn’t have limps or eyes when they are born. I swallowed the egg, drunk some water on top, and came back to the hall. He asked, “You ate it?” I said, “Yeah. I’d already boiled it so I couldn’t waste it.” I saw his face changed immediately. His demeanor went from happy to cold. For the rest of the evening, he didn’t say a word until I told him I was leaving.

Usually, he would walk with me down the road and stop a taxi for me but that night because I bit into the bones of my future kids, he didn’t even look at me when I said I was leaving. He only nodded his head as I walked by him and left.  When I was going home, I told myself, “Noo, this thing can’t work. Just three months together and all I’ve heard are rules and superstitions that a day-old boy wouldn’t even believe.

If you thought the egg issue was the worse, then wait until I tell you the story of my red nightie. He called on a video call one night when I was about to sleep. My hair was in a red bonnet and had my red nightie on. We spoke and laugh for a while until he noticed my nightie. He asked, “Are you going to sleep like this? All red?” I said, “Yeah, that’s how I always sleep. My nightie on and my hair covered in bonnet because I don’t want it to get twisted in the morning when I wake up.”

I asked, “It’s everything alright?” He said, “When I tell you, you’ll think I’m being overly superstitious so it’s ok.” I said, “Oh don’t worry, just tell me. It’s anything wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Then he dropped the bomb. “As a woman, when you sleep in red clothes, you’re inviting spiritual husbands to come and have their way with you.” I was quiet for a while. I asked, “What’s the name of your church again?” He said, “Forget about the church and face the truth here. Don’t you sometimes have dreams about you and another person sleeping? And you wake up and realized it was a wet dream?”

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I was quiet for a while. I said, “I don’t dream and even when I do, I wake up and don’t remember anything about it.” He said, “That’s the work of the spiritual husbands. When you dream and you wake up, you should remember. When you forget, it means something is being hidden from you.”

I spent the whole night thinking about what he told me and thought about how a man of his caliber could believe something this outlandish. I told myself, “This won’t work. The earlier I walk out the better.” The next weekend, I went to the salon and got my hair done. And got my nails fixed. (Something I’ve never done before.) From the salon, I went to his place. Immediately he saw me he frowned like he was looking at something despicable. He said, “I thought we agreed you won’t do this again.” I said, “Well, I like the look it gives me.” He said, “You won’t ever listen to me.” He pulled that cold attitude again until I left his place. When I was leaving his place, I knew it was the last time I was going to see him.

He didn’t call until three days later when I posted a status then he commented, “So you won’t look for me? You did something wrong and I complained so you’re angry?” I said, “This thing isn’t working, don’t you see it? I’m not the kind of girl you need in your life right now. I will always do the opposite so it’s better we let it go.” He said, “So because I told you the truth, you’re angry?”

He pressed for a comeback but I didn’t listen. Later he said, “At least we can still be friends?” I said, “Yeah we can be friends.” He sent a message one day and I didn’t reply so he stopped trying.

–Celestine   

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