“Sacrifice? What do you mean by that? Do you mean that I should kill someone or what?”

“No, child. It is straightforward.” The old man took out a gold liquid, which was in a small vile. He handed it to her. Hilda took out a wipe and tried to take it from his hand. “No, you need to take it with your hand, not with that cloth.” His hands were filthy, and Hilda feared touching them.

“But you’re so dirty.” Hilda placed her free hand on her nose. The smell was becoming unbearable.

“The cloth will take away the magic, my child. We don’t want that now, do we?” Hilda placed the wipe back and hesitantly took the vile from the old man.

“Now, what do I do with this thing, old man?”

“The instructions are simple. All you have to do is not speak for 3 full days starting today.”

“Ha! That can’t be. I refuse!”

“Your call. You can stay with your red hair and broke forever, or you can take on the challenge”. The old man had a stern look on his face. Hilda thought about what she might gain and changed her mind.

“Fine! What else?”

“You can only greet people and only respond when they greet you back. You cannot say anything else. On the third day, you will drink this potion in the evening and witness the magic.”

Hilda was not very impressed by these terms, but she took them. “Okay, so when do I start?”

“Now!” He proclaimed in an intense voice.

Hilda almost opened her mouth to object. The old man placed his finger on her lips. She wanted to tell him off, but she turned her back and started walking to the bus terminus. She tapped her tag and went to sit at the back of the bus as usual. The resident pastor began his sermon, and everyone looked back at Hilda. Her hand was on her mouth, and she was turning red. She told herself to calm down, and nothing would keep her from getting the life she deserved.

“Is she sick?” whispered one of the passengers to the person beside them.

“Her face looks like her hair today; it is on fire. Maybe she had too much to drink yesterday.” They both let out an audible laugh. Hilda’s eyes kept looking around, and everyone was talking about her. Her eyes were starting to tear up, but before one tear could escape, the bus stopped at her workplace. She dashed to the door to get out first and ran into the gate.

Hilda remembered that she could only greet people, so she greeted the security guards at the gate, and they were baffled. “Mbuli, this one knows how to greet her elders?” They didn’t respond. She kept walking, determined to get someone to say something. It was driving her crazy.

“Good morning, Caroline.” Caroline, the receptionist, looked at her and rolled her eyes. Hilda had called her dumb on Friday for spilling tea onto her. At that moment she wished she could apologise, but couldn’t say anything so she continued walking.

When she arrived at her shared office, she greeted staff. It was crickets all around; you could hear a pin falling. Hilda placed her purse on her desk, took out her make-up bag and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror. Her face was burning red. She couldn’t believe it. Hilda had always said no one’s opinion of her mattered, but it did. However, she acted like nothing affected her because she could always talk back. She powdered her face to hide the colour and returned to her desk.

Whenever a colleague came over to talk to her, she would use sticky notes to respond. More straightforward questions, she would shake her head or nod. Melissa from finance took it upon herself to find out if she was sick. Hilda responded by shaking her head. When it was time to knock off, a few guys came over to ask if Hilda wanted to go out for drinks. She thought about it and then remembered how uncontrollable she became when drunk and refused the offer. Hilda packed her stuff and left the office.