"Woman want baby. Woman want JuJu.”
“What?”
“JuJu. It’s magic. African magic, white or black.”
“I don’t want black magic, Tutu.”
Tutu smiled.
“Here,” she said. “Have this.”
Tutu gave me a tiny carved figurine; she explained how the women of Ghana use ones just like it to help with fertility. They carry their wooden doll at all times, usually hidden under clothing so only a spirit's eyes can see it. Then hopefully, an ancient one will take possession of the doll, be with the woman and watch over her. If the woman proves herself worthy, the ancient one might choose to be reborn as her baby. How cool is that?
“Well then,” said Tutu. “Woman want baby?”
“You know I do.”
“We do deal? JuJu make baby?”
“Sure, Tutu. Let’s do it.”
You have to understand, I had no baby after two years of trying with my husband. Our European ways had got us nowhere, so why not try some African magic? Hubby was up for it, and besides, Tutu and I have loved each other since always, our secret deal only confirmed what was already going down between us.
“You my bitch?”
“Yes, Tutu.”
“Say it.”
“I am your bitch.”
“Good. Drink this.”
I gulped down some ghastly green liquid, seconds later a hammer hit me between the eyes and everything went fuzzy. I was still conscious, only I’d dropped to my knees and had my head pressed to the floor, sent totally wacko by the hallucinogen I'd just taken.
“Woman ready,” Tutu told my husband when she phoned him. “Come do her quick.”
Hubby was home in ten minutes. Tutu slipped out the back the moment he showed, she wasn't being rude, she just didn't want to intrude. She said she couldn't be there to fulfil our ritual in person. Tutu had laid on the magic and split. Seconds later hubby walked in and said...
“Oh Jesus Christ!”
What I was offering had nowt to do with Jesus. I was hot. The JuJu was hot, hubby felt it and so did the spirit; she was in my fertility doll watching the whole show. I know she was there, because I was with child straight after… So now we have our baby and it's strange how magic works.
"Happy, my bitch?"
"Oh yeah, Tutu. I love you so much."
"I love you too, my sweet bitch. I love you and our baby."
Our precious daughter looks so like my African princess. She has the same deep brown eyes, the same smooth dark skin, and Tutu is such a devoted parent. Hubby don't get it, but then he don't get JuJu and he don't make babies.
Hubby can have his divorce if he wants, although he would be wise not to make too much of a fuss. My deal with Tutu is forever, I am the mother of her child, I am her bitch and my love's JuJu magic can do much more than make babies.
~
steffanie x
“What?”
“JuJu. It’s magic. African magic, white or black.”
“I don’t want black magic, Tutu.”
Tutu smiled.
“Here,” she said. “Have this.”
Tutu gave me a tiny carved figurine; she explained how the women of Ghana use ones just like it to help with fertility. They carry their wooden doll at all times, usually hidden under clothing so only a spirit's eyes can see it. Then hopefully, an ancient one will take possession of the doll, be with the woman and watch over her. If the woman proves herself worthy, the ancient one might choose to be reborn as her baby. How cool is that?
“Well then,” said Tutu. “Woman want baby?”
“You know I do.”
“We do deal? JuJu make baby?”
“Sure, Tutu. Let’s do it.”
You have to understand, I had no baby after two years of trying with my husband. Our European ways had got us nowhere, so why not try some African magic? Hubby was up for it, and besides, Tutu and I have loved each other since always, our secret deal only confirmed what was already going down between us.
“You my bitch?”
“Yes, Tutu.”
“Say it.”
“I am your bitch.”
“Good. Drink this.”
I gulped down some ghastly green liquid, seconds later a hammer hit me between the eyes and everything went fuzzy. I was still conscious, only I’d dropped to my knees and had my head pressed to the floor, sent totally wacko by the hallucinogen I'd just taken.
“Woman ready,” Tutu told my husband when she phoned him. “Come do her quick.”
Hubby was home in ten minutes. Tutu slipped out the back the moment he showed, she wasn't being rude, she just didn't want to intrude. She said she couldn't be there to fulfil our ritual in person. Tutu had laid on the magic and split. Seconds later hubby walked in and said...
“Oh Jesus Christ!”
What I was offering had nowt to do with Jesus. I was hot. The JuJu was hot, hubby felt it and so did the spirit; she was in my fertility doll watching the whole show. I know she was there, because I was with child straight after… So now we have our baby and it's strange how magic works.
"Happy, my bitch?"
"Oh yeah, Tutu. I love you so much."
"I love you too, my sweet bitch. I love you and our baby."
Our precious daughter looks so like my African princess. She has the same deep brown eyes, the same smooth dark skin, and Tutu is such a devoted parent. Hubby don't get it, but then he don't get JuJu and he don't make babies.
Hubby can have his divorce if he wants, although he would be wise not to make too much of a fuss. My deal with Tutu is forever, I am the mother of her child, I am her bitch and my love's JuJu magic can do much more than make babies.
~
steffanie x
