Spells on my hair

Though I don’t miss the feeling of being confused all of the time, there were a few things that were eaiser when I was clueless. Before I could understand Bambara, I didn’t have to hear all of the crap people say about each other. I had an exception from village gossip. Now, I’m right in the thick of it. Everyone’s got someone to complain about, and I can’t pretend I don’t understand for very long. It’s like any other small town in the world. Everyone’s in everyone’s business, everyone’s got their grudges. Staying a neutral party is a challenge.
Beneath the gossip though, are there really dark evils in Dombila like many people believe? Spirits, genies, jinks, curses… I never realized how these ancient customs are so much a part of everyday concern. Shaka is always looking out for me. I appriciate it, but it sometimes gets pretty ridiculous. He told me not to run by the market. “Those are people in there who want to cut your hair.” He’s said that before, and even gone so far as to collect the hair that I have taken out of my hairbrush and thrown outside out of fear that these people will get their hands on it. I guess they have spells and stuff they can do on my hair that’s he is quite concerned about. “Don’t go to the market! They’re gonna take your hair!!”
Tired of this I snaped back, “Shaka, they are not going to take my hair! I can look after my own head thank you very much.” And then, totally unplanned, it just came out. “And by the way, even if they do have my hair, it won’t do anything to hurt me!”
He looked completely shocked. He shook his head. “Even now Aminata, you really don’t know Malian people.” This culture is serious stuff. And unfortunately, I can’t play dumb anymore.