Episode 1: A woman scorned
“What did you put into that potion you gave me, it didn’t work,” the tall pompous woman said from in front of the counter.
“Did you follow my explicit instructions?”
“Yes, four drops into his food and he’d leave that whore for me”
“Four is too much, I said two,” Bahiya said.
“I had to make sure it would work,” she said, “and it turns out it didn’t”
Bahiya Imani was a lot of things, but discreet was not among them. Her facial expressions always showed her emotions. And for this customer, she only felt one: disdain. If the relationship was doomed, then why not let it be, she thought. Of all the waganga she could have chosen to see, she just had to walk into her shop. Was that God’s way of paying her for practicing the occult? Yes, Bahiya Imani still considered herself a nice little religious puppy that attended service every Sunday without miss. But a lady had to make a living. And that she did with the old books her grandmother left to her in her shop, with the details of practicing witchcraft. When she discovered the book, she thought it hogwash whatever was written inside. Well, all until the curiosity cat came beckoning and as she opened it for a read and some experimentation, it worked!
Her first spell was a botanical one, since she considered that niche safe enough. It was not like a plant would instantaneously transform into a man-eating vestige and rip her to bits. The spell was for revitalizing the dried-up roots of a plant essentially bringing it back to life. She messed it up. The eucalyptus seedling that she had chosen, managed to revive itself into an upright position for about half a second, just for it to resume its limp-like descent into dust. But that was already sign enough for Bahiya, so she opened shop.
And now, here was a customer so desperate for love from her partner, she would have rather hexed him into it than earned it solely. Yes, Bahiya did judge her. Of course, she did. She had no right, what with her aiding and abiding.
The next best option for her client would have been an unthinkable option, but it had to be done if she was meant to get her payment for services rendered.
“Have you noticed any strange behavior from him after…” Bahiya asked.
“Well, no he isn’t obsessed with me, but he has upped his bed game”
“Okay then, what more could you want?” Bahiya asked.
“I want obsession, like he can’t breathe without the sight of me. Besides, he is still seeing that bitch. I want him to leave her for good”
This colorful lady before Bahiya was an upper-class woman. It was obvious by sight and smell. Her perfume was of the usual Somali variety that would stink up the air for the next hundred meters irradiating anything it came into contact with. Her weave seemed expensive. She also wore jewelry that may have passed for being of original metallic make, but to Bahiya, it just looked painted upon. And her clothes? She was dressed in a pantsuit. Off to a big office meeting after a bewitching? Bahiya joked.
The woman was incorrigible, and Bahiya understood her type of people. The kind that thought the entire world revolved around them. The kind that considered other lines of work… unsanitary. Bahiya hated those type of people. The judgmental lot. Ironically, she was quite judgmental herself but she didn’t mind it.
“Okay, do this” She reached for a plastic bottle that was beneath her counter and set it upon the surface of the slab.
“How far along are you?” She said.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you pregnant?”
“Heavens, no,” the woman said.
“Fantastic,” she said, “on your next period, I want you to bleed into this bottle and place it under the bed you share with your boyfriend”
“That’s disgusting!”
“Hey, you wanted foolproof,” Bahiya said.
“And you are sure this will work?”
“Positive”
And the woman stormed out. Bahiya was not entirely sure that it would work but it was worth a shot. This wouldn’t be like that time she accidentally glued someone’s mouth shut. Or that time she jinxed a man so much, he lost all his wealth in a fortnight, when all he wanted was more profit.
DO: ALWAYS USE BLOOD FOR BINDING RITUALS (YES, EVEN LOVE)
DON’T: ENABLE A NARCISSIST WITH THE TOOL THEY REQUIRE TO MOOCH OFF OF PEOPLE’S ATTENTION
Bahiya wrote into her journal. It was funny. And what was even funnier was Bahiya imagining that begrudged customer storming into her shop yet some few weeks later with claims at inefficiency. She loved the irony.
“Does that blood thing actually work?” Spoke Najdah whom Bahiya hadn’t noticed had been cleaning the windows the entire time.
Najdah was Bahiya’s sole employee. They were best friends, so it was the least she could do.
“It should work; haven’t you ever heard people doing that in Nairobi?”
“That city is always full of hooligans struggling to make sense of being used for sex,” said Najdah.
“You speak as though from experience”
“Let’s not rehash that tale”
“Anyway, I enchanted the bottle, the blood is meant to act like an anchor for the target’s affection to whomever it belongs to”
“And do you think it will work?”
“Well, I already spent her down payment on some herbs so…”
“You still need that money to pay off the Witch Council remember”
The Witch Council was this pristine little collection of some of the best witchdoctors on that side of the country. They domineered over and managed all affairs appertaining to the occult in the Coast province. And since, they were the governing body of such a secret enterprise they did what governing bodies best do: quelled. Yes, they tried to squash any threat to their supremacy. And such always elucidated itself in tiny little uprisings of small-scale come-up witchdoctors like Bahiya herself. Bahiya had already missed a couple of their scheduled meetings, so she couldn’t miss this one when they came calling.
“Good evening, Miss Imani”
“Hello, Consolideur, “answered Bahiya, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“You know why we are here,” the man spoke confidently. Beside him stood two other men, all dressed in the darkest shade of black clothes. Not suits, just a mixture of casual and office clothes.
“Look,” she started, “I haven’t been able to make enough money to pay you guys. Maybe, if you gave me just a little more time, I could…”
The Consolideur interrupted her, “Listen, Bahiya. No need to get all gritty. We’re all friends here, I’d like to believe. How about,” he looked ominously into the distance as though his train of thought had flown from him, “how about you do us one favor and the council will consider your debt settled”
“And what is that?”
“Listen, I know you are just an amateur in our craft. But we remember your grandmother. Mama Fadhiya was an exceptional witchdoctor and a dear friend to the council…”
“Get on with it,” Bahiya had grown tired of their pacing.
“The council would like, as a show of your loyalty to us, for you to brew us something in your tiny little kitchen upstairs”
“Brew?” Bahiya appeared puzzled, “like a potion?”
“Precisely”
“What kind of potion?”
“Datura’s Scorn”
Bahiya had not noticed, but her reaction to those words evoked a nearly immediate visceral reaction from her.
“POISON!”
“Calm down,” the consolideur said, “yes”
“But the Omari statutes state clearly the ban on all brewing of poisons throughout the entire province!”
“Relax,” he said, “it will just be our secret”
“They could revoke my license, and then I’d lose the shop, not to mention a whole lot worse could happen…”
“Miss Imani, relax. We wouldn’t let that happen”
There was this building moment of eerie silence between them where she just stared at them. She was practically being forced to break the law. And she wouldn’t even know what for.
“What is it going to be used for?” She asked.
“That information is not mine to divulge”.
