I’d never managed to fast until six in the evening for thirty days straight. But now my fasting would be riddled with holes, like a grater, like an overused rag. I hated incompleteness.

After Mum died, Teacher came to our house often – so often that I thought Dad would replace the photo of Mum that hung on the family room wall with Teacher’s picture. But two years later, Dad married again and I realised that Teacher would not be replacing my mother. I never got close to my stepmother but at least she didn’t make up stories about how my mother went to heaven, in contrast to the wicked, who are tormented in hell. I didn’t believe Teacher because once, before my mother died, she told me that heaven and hell were as dark as shadows. Sometimes heaven and hell perch on your head like a butterfly, she said, sometimes they disappear. Even though you are unaware that death is upon you, they appear to us in turn, as close as your breath.

When I told Dad about my period, he just commented awkwardly, ‘Oh, I see.’ Teacher’s lecture came the next day. Dad and I were like a human and a wandering spirit. He needed a medium to reach me. Someone to act as a psychic. First Mum, then Teacher. He must have told her. Traitor.

‘From this moment your sins are tallied, Mara,’ said Teacher. ‘Your mistakes are no longer your parents’ responsibility but your own. So, bow your head at the sight of men. Have a sense of modesty. Don’t speak loudly. You know, a woman should never become a singer.’

Wow. Mum liked to sing while she bathed. She fantasised about wearing a tight kebaya and performing with a gamelan orchestra, her hair tied in a knot.

‘A woman’s voice can tempt. It can invite fornication.’

‘What’s fornication?’

‘What’s between your thighs is a treasure. Don’t sit with your legs open.’

‘Why?’

‘Many desire it. It is a source of disaster.’

‘Why?’

Teacher never explained. I decided I wasn’t allowed to know because each prohibition invited danger. If I understood, I would crave the forbidden. Menstruation led me to know of a treasure chest sealed tight. It needed to be buried away, hidden beneath the sea, because it was bloody.

‘From now on you must rinse your pads and underwear,’ said Teacher. ‘Wash them so that they’re spick and span, and then wrap them in newspaper.’

Why? Why? Why? Whywhywhy?