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Showing posts from January, 2019

The Bride Price Fund by Chinwendu Okafo

We were saving money for the bride price. We were slipping it into the slit of the iron safe hidden under the bed. It was better to have it within reach than in a bank  where we would live in constant fear of liquidation. We harboured no fear of people tampering with our bank verification number, then debit alerts. It was the trend in town. We had heard tales of white collar scammers, with a foreign accent, calling to say one's credit card has issues before  demanding for the last four digits on it. We started saving after Kalisia was made to kneel before the Umuada during her mother's funeral. They were the daughters of the land. Women with flappy chicken arms and stomachs gone large from excessive consumption of funeral food. They said she was a disgrace. ‘How can you live with a man that has not placed a single wine on your head?’ ‘How can you beget children  for him when you're still unmarried?’ ‘Do you know we can take the children away from you?’ ‘Twelve years! Tufia. W…