You were seven when you had that terrible stomach upset. I was worried sick. The doctor said it was an “acute episode of a worm infection”, common with kids your age. “He just needs to take some medicine and he’ll be fine in no time.” Grandma told me it was “jèdí jèdí” and that I had spoiled you with too much candy. “He needs the àgbo, Iya Teniola,” she insisted. Two days later, you were fit as a fiddle. As I tucked you into bed that night, you told me sleepily, “I want to tell you a secret Mommy, but you can’t tell the doctor or grandma.”
