Ifedayo didn’t work for money; she was already rich; she didn’t say how. Some illnesses defied explanation. That’s why people went to her. She didn’t offer any medicine or perform any ritual because a supplicant asked for it. She selected the ritual, she selected the herbs, she consulted the spirit after demanding answers, even if the supplicant was uncomfortable answering. She gave her treatment only after she understood what herb or spirit was appropriate. Ifedayo asked questions, she tossed her cowry shells, and she worked it out. The secret of her practice was that she was the sufferer. Her wealth was being human. She was Ursa, who remembered colors; she was Itai, who could only be a clown; she was Layla, an ugly duckling; she was Seth who would be a hermit.