Some hours before Eniiyi is born, Monife, the daughter of Bunmi, her grand aunt, is buried after her remains are pulled out of the Elegushi beach, where she chose to end it all on account of a curse the Falodun women have battled from generation to generation
Over two decades later, Eniiyi will jump into the same water to save a drowning man.

Eniiyi, Ebun, Monife, Bunmi and Kemi stand at the heart of Cursed Daughters, Oyinkan Braithwaite’s compelling sophomore novel. Trailing them are their ancestors, dead but not forgotten.
They include Feranmi, with whom it all began, who was cursed because of her husband; Yemisi, who was labelled a witch; Yetunde, who men avoided like a plaque; Tobi, despised by her in-laws; the unstable Afoke; and Fikayo, the one whose health was her undoing.
In a novel that seems to suggest that some endings are nothing but mere beginnings, when Eniiyi emerges from Ebun’s birth canal, there is little doubt that she bears an uncanny resemblance to the recently deceased. Bunmi, the dead woman’s mother, becomes convinced that her daughter has returned to her through Ebun. From that moment, she dotes on the newborn and names her Motitunde, an identity that cements her belief that the child is her daughter reborn.
As Eniiyi grows, she accepts the unusual reality of having two grandmothers and addresses them accordingly, calling one Grandma West and the other Grandma East, in recognition of the wings each occupies in their family home, a home where its daughters have always returned when their men turn against them.
Eniiyi also sees Monife in dreams where the dead gives her the silent treatment until the day she says “not again” through Eniiyi’s voice.
Eniiyi grows up aware that she belongs to a line of women fated never to remain long in their husbands’ homes, bound by a curse said to have been placed on a long-dead matron who stole another woman’s man.
Over 200 pages into the novel, the identity of Eniiyi’s father or the circumstances surrounding her conception are still shrouded in secrecy. All that is offered are insinuations about a guilt we aren’t given details of, a trick that helps drive the plot and sees us following, among other issues, the friction between Bunmi and Ebun over Eniiyi. Because of Bunmi’s attachment to Eniiyi, she invites herself into every decision that has to do with her or unilaterally takes decisions on Eniiyi without bothering to inform the mother and sees absolutely nothing wrong in her actions. As far as she is concerned, they have equal rights to her. After all, she is her daughter’s replica born on the day the original is interred.
The author shows us Individual differences in the way Bunmi and Kemi (Ebun’s mother) handle the curveball life has thrown at them. While Bunmi hopes her ex will return to her and their children, Kemi throws herself at the Lagos society jumping from one benefactor to the other and even when she becomes a grandmother, she refuses to throw in the towel. Instead, she enhances her beauty with Spandex and Wonderbra.
Supernatural issues dominate the pages of this compelling read: a generational curse and reincarnation. Before Eniiyi’s birth, all the Falodun women were concerned about was generational curse; her resemblance to Monife heightens this belief as it brings in reincarnation and the fears associated with it.
The novel raises posers: Are generational curses and reincarnation real? Are they imagined or are they just coincidences? And are there clear signs that define them? Braithwaite offers neither straight nor easy answers. Instead, she gives perspectives and leaves the answers to the reader.
She shows us the spiritual angle to these issues, especially how people who claim to know more than the rest of us purport to have the solutions to these challenges; in the long run, money must exchange hands. Are there answers in the darker spiritual corners of Lagos? Can the pattern be broken? Is liberation possible from family secrets and silent traumas? And do we see results even when cash is doled out to the spiritualists?
In the end, the quagmire we are left with in this novel whose plot oscillates between the past and the present is to choose to believe whatever we wish because as becomes clear; at times, the past intermingles with the present even on the politically turf with many baffled in the novel by the president’s “the seemingly arbitrary decision to change the national anthem whilst his citizens faced economic crisis; the lack of hope in the political process”.
Aside from the women, two other memorable characters stand out in this novel. The first is Sango, Monife’s loyal dog; the second is the Falodun house, the sprawling old and falling mansion with its east and west wings, that dominates the narrative. Without the house, this would have been an entirely different story, and certainly an incomplete one. The author’s success in making both Sango and, especially, the house so integral to the plot’s development deserves high praise.
All in all, Braithwaite offers us a novel that deeply explores the complex nature of female rivalry, trauma, superstition and familial obligations. And she does so in prose that is a delight to read. The humour also makes the novel a compelling read.
It is no surprise it made the Time 100 Books for 2025.
***Olukorede S. Yishau is the author of two novels: In The Name of Our Father and After The End; a collection of short stories: Vaults of Secrets; and a travel book: United Countries of America and Other Travel Tales. He is concluding work on his third novel. He lives In Houston, Texas.





