Margaret Kinuuza was my uncle’s daughter and my mother hated her mother. Aunty Moleek never cared much for my mother hatred, until she heard my mother plotting to cut Margaret’s hair while she’s sleeping. She was the first female Samson of our clan and my mother wanted the inheritance for me.
The elders said that the hatred started when Aunty Moleek gave birth to her son, the most beautiful boy in our town. The first thing people always asked was if he was a girl. He was more beautiful that all of my elder sisters combined and my mother hated that Aunty Moleek’s children got all the attention. So when Margaret was born two years after me, more beautiful than all her siblings, my mother knew that she spelled trouble and that is why she wanted to rid her of the hair that grew on her head, the thing that qualified her to inherit my grandfather’s smoking pipe, the one that was passed down from generation to generation, more precious than gold and silver. The pipe through which visions were seen.
Photo: Hazel Fasaha Tobo