I found my mother's juju wrapped in my boyfriend's shirt and I still married him

I was 24, living in Lekki Phase 1 with my boyfriend of two years. One Saturday I was packing his clothes for laundry and I felt something hard inside the collar of his favourite shirt.

It was a small black cloth tied with red thread. Inside was a piece of my hair. My own hair. I knew because I had just cut it the week before and I had been looking for that exact strand. My mother had come to visit three weeks before and I let her sleep in my room.

I confronted her. She didn't deny it. She said, "You think love is enough? I did it for you. He was going to leave you like your father left me." I cried that night. I married him last year. We are fine. But I still can't look at my mother the same way. She carries something in her eyes now, like she knows exactly what she did and she would do it again.