Zubayat
She tells me it will be alright, I nod my head thrice like I agree; but I know it’s a lie, it would
not need to be alright if things were already alright, and if isn’t alright, why should she think
it will be.
Salome you aren’t a believer like me she says, I ask her what a believer means, she laughs in a
funny way, which makes me laugh too and tells me the story of Babayaga.
Babayaga is an old hag, an ugly Witch she says; she has big snakes for hairs and long thin
claws like Asa. She rides a broom and flies at night. She scares little children on their beds
and cooks those who become scared to eat or sometimes eat them raw, just for the fun of it;
with their limbs crunching like Iyaibo’s chewing stick in her mouth.
“Ugly like her” I point towards a pito seller with long tribal marks.
She laughs loudly, shaking with tears rolling from her eyes. I do not laugh; I am too scared to
laugh.
