For most of my life animals have been my best friends. Growing up I had all sorts of pets, dogs, turtles, fishes in a bowl, a parrot and even a hamster. All animals except one: the cat.

I was never allowed near them. I never owned one, nor was I allowed any friends who had them at home. Each time I asked my mother why? she simply said “There would be no cats in this family!”

After years of getting shut down, I gave up asking. My curiosity faded. I carried on loving animals, and unknowingly, avoiding cats, until one fateful day.

Years passed. I was happily married, and a new mother of twins. Earlier that year, my grandma died, so we traveled to our village for the burial. My husband was on a business trip, so it was just me, my babies and my parents.

The locals welcomed us with warmth. While catching up with old relatives, one uncle laughed and asked, “Do you still play around with animals?” I smiled and nodded. Then he added more seriously “Agbaya, Sa stay away from cats, especially those from this area”

That night, I saw a stray skinny cat outside. It looked sad and hungry. Against every warning, I fed it, then went to sleep.

The next night, when it returned, I fed it again.

Then the next night, and the next, till we finally left for Lagos.

And that interaction was over, or so I thought.

Back home, exhausted, I collapsed on my bed ready to rest. Then I heard a familiar meow from the window. I looked up and there it was. An identical cat staring straight into my room. I blinked, “did he follow us here?” “Is this just a coincidence?”

I ignored it. But the meow only grew louder and angry until dawn. I barely slept with the noise at my window.

The next night, it came again, the same cat, the same time, was staring into the room. But this time it didn't meow, it just sat there staring, not at me but at my baby's crib.

Moments later, my baby started crying, unable to sleep, till dawn.

This cycle continued interchangeably for weeks. Meow one night, staring at my baby the next. It was driving me overboard, I needed help. I finally called my mum, and told her everything, the cat in the village and now this.

She came over immediately, her face darkened.

Then told me

Decades ago, during the period of the great famine, One of our ancestors killed a stray cat that stole his family's only food.

The cat belonged to a sorceress, who in boiling rage cursed our family bloodline.

“ For your cruelty, the cat shall be your enemy. it shall torment you and your children. Feed it, and it shall never leave”

That's why my family avoids

“What do I do?” I asked, trembling.

“There's only one way,” she said. “Kill it. Before it claims something more.”

That night when the cat came back, we waited, trapped it, and killed it. The night passed quietly.

But the morning didn't.

I woke up to claw marks on my baby's crib, paw prints tracked across my room and black fur on my bed.

It certainly isn't over,

What do I do?