In an ice-cream parlour in Yaoundé, Régine, fresh from her exams, receives a secret from her mother that changes everything.
Suddenly she leaned towards me, her eyes all at once darker, almost piercing, as if what she had to confide weighed heavily on her heart. She came so close that I could feel her uneven breath against my cheek. The atmosphere around us shifted subtly; the hubbub of the room grew distant, almost muffled, as if the outside world were fading away to leave room only for this precise moment, this intimate confession. She whispered in a faint, quavering voice, tinged with a gravity I had never heard in her before:
“Do you believe in God, my daughter?”
I was struck dumb, the words catching in my throat. Why this question, and why now, in such an ordinary place? Time seemed to stretch; with every second, I felt a new weight on my shoulders. Without understanding, I nodded, my thoughts in a tangle, desperately searching for meaning, for logic, while my lips stayed sealed, unable to put my questions into words.
“Good,” she went on, and her voice, though low, rang like an ominous echo in the sudden silence of my mind. “Because I have to tell you a secret. Something that has been tormenting me for more than a year now. Your sister Jeannette will soon be leaving to finish her studies in Europe, and you will be the eldest in the house. You will have to watch over your little brother. Know that if I were ever to leave our home, your brother and you would probably become the target of occult forces that your father has invited into our home without even realising it. For now, your faith in our Lord is your only shield against these spirits, but remember that I will always be by your side.”
The story continues in the book.