I  completely forgetting the errand I was sent on. It stopped right in front of Maigari's house, and I continued forward, deeply curious to see inside the car—I wanted to know if it looked like a room inside.

I widened my eyes in shock when I saw who came out of the car: a handsome city boy, dressed in elegant clothes, with a pleasant fragrance wafting around him. I didn’t even realize my mouth was open as I stared at him. He walked into Maigari's house, and without even knowing, I followed him until I found myself inside the compound. That was when my senses returned and I remembered what I was doing—I had been sent to buy potash! Surely, I would be beaten today by Baba Gaje. There was never a wasted day that didn’t end in me being beaten three or four times. Sometimes, I even admit it’s my fault—I can’t help but stop to watch anything interesting, and surprises never seem strange to me anymore.

When I returned to buy the potash, I circled Maigari’s house again just in case I could catch another glimpse of the car and that city boy. What I saw next was even more surprising and confusing. He had a small device in his hand that he placed to his ear, talking to himself. It wasn’t just me—boys from the village were watching him, too. He got into the car and drove off. I wanted to go closer, maybe even touch the car, but I was scared. He left, and I didn’t head home until the car had completely disappeared.

When I arrived home, I was trembling. I saw Baba Gaje scooping tuwo (a thick meal), with the soup already placed beside the fire—it seemed it had been taken down a while ago. She gave me a piercing glare.
“So now is when you see fit to return? Useless, shameless wretch! Nothing will stop me from beating you today, you worthless girl!”

I began to cry.
“Please, Baba, forgive me.”

Lanto looked at me. “Where did you even go?”
Still crying, I replied, “Um… um… at Maigari’s gate… there was a car, and I stopped to look at it…”
She cut me off. “To look, huh?”
I went silent. She resumed her complaints.

Jummala, who was off to the side, said, “Look at her—this is exactly how the women in this house gossip all day.”

Baba Gaje continued scolding me. This was how things always went in our house—especially for me. No one ever defended me because everyone feared Baba Gaje. She made more money than all of them combined, selling everything from fried cakes, kola nuts, groundnut oil, rice, beans, and pap. She was also the head of our village’s savings group.

I hid behind the granary when I heard my father calling for me. I came out, sobbing.
“Jidda,” he said, “why do you always end up in trouble, getting yourself beaten?”

Through my sobs, I answered,
“Baba, I was sent to buy potash.”
He held my hand. “So you stopped to stare at the car again, huh? I told you to stop wasting time gawking.”

“Gaje will beat you again—yes, I’ll be sleeping in the room tonight.”

Then we heard Baba Gaje shouting:
“So you two are hiding and insulting me? With all the stress I go through, and no one ever appreciates it! I won’t tolerate this!”

Father replied,
“Gaje, I’m not stopping you from beating her. I’m just advising her not to keep watching things aimlessly. But fine—if she does it again, go ahead and beat her.”

“I swear I’ll beat her today. And she won’t eat any of this food! I send her out, and instead she goes wandering about with kola nuts, wasting time and not returning.”

I started to say, “Please forgive…” when a slap landed on my face. Father quietly walked out. He couldn’t bear to see what I was going through. Whenever anyone tries to calm Baba Gaje down during a beating, she accuses them of siding with me. From then on, she held a grudge against them. And if she’s upset with you, then she orders all the other women in the house not to speak to you. If anyone does, she targets them, too. So they all just watched me, and when they talked about it, they’d say, “She deserves it.”

She beat me however she liked, then released me with a stomp. I cried until I was too tired and hid in a corner.

Indo and Shafa crossed the courtyard, then Hinde—Baba Gaje’s niece—called Salame and Laminde and they left. I tried to follow even though I knew Hinde might chase me away. But Baba Gaje called out,
“Kuluwa, come here! If you’re not going to the gathering, then take this tray of kola nuts instead.”

She showed me the tray and added,
“You know how much it’s worth. You let your nosy eyes distract you today—you’ll suffer for it. I’m leaving now.”

I heard my father’s voice:
“Jidda, are you still there?”
“Yes, Baba,” I answered, kneeling.
“Here,” he said. “I know you haven’t eaten, right?”
“No,” I replied.

He handed me a black nylon bag—I didn’t even know what was inside.
“Eat it, okay? Where are you taking the tray?”
“