CHAPTER 1: THE TEACHER

This story is not just about a witch.It is about every Adaeze we have buried alive with our mouths.I grew up hearing about the Evil Forest. A place where they threw twins. Where they left wicked women. Where no one returns.But as I grew older, I asked myself — what if the forest was never evil? What if the evil was the people who needed a forest to hide their own wickedness?In many villages in Igbo land, a girl who is too strong, too educated, too outspoken, too unwilling to marry the man they chose, is called a witch.They don't need broom to fly. They just need your tongue.Adaeze is that girl. She taught children when nobody paid her. She fetched water for wives who gossiped about her. She kept her father's house when his second wife tried to sell it piece by piece.And for that kindness, they called her witch and sent her to die.I wrote this book because I am tired of kind girls being punished.