“Udoh! Imoh!” Mama’s voice sent lightening through me and I paused to feel the thunder. It came sharp and heavy! A smack to the back of my head made me stagger forward, but her claws grabbed me by the collar, and reeled me back. I trembled in her grasp and gave a tentative glance at Imoh. Maybe she had realized that her money was missing and Imoh had only been waiting to rat me out. He wouldn’t miss out on the chance to be portrayed as the holy child, the favourite born. He was standing next to her, unharmed, untouched. Anger welled in my gut and I wanted to protest.
“Witch!”
“Rot in hell!”
Scowling faces glared down in disgust amidst the drumming and chanting from village maidens. Their faces, a bright orange in the glaring firelight from the burning torches. She raised her hands to shield her face from the glaring beams and tucked her head to elude lashing hands. They pulled at her clothes, tearing her already ragged linen, ravaging her like wild dogs, tossing her from side to side. Her head jerked forward as a hard slap caught it!
Mama always told us that at midnight, the village witches turned into crows and owls and would sing their dirges in the evil forest. I and Ali would quiver under the ankara sheets, frightened to our toes...But Ali was no longer frightened.
